EXEMPLARY NOVELS; IN SIX BOOKS.  

The two Damosels.  
The Lady Cornelia.  
The liberal Lover.  
The force of blood.  
The Spanish Lady.  
The jealous Husband.   
FULL OF VARIOUS ACCIDENTS BOTH DELIGHTFUL AND PROFITABLE.  
By MIGVEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA;  
One of the prime Wits of Spain, for his rare Fancies, and witty Inventions.  
Turned into English by DON DIEGO PUEDE-SER.  
LONDON, Printed by john Dawson, for R. M. and are to be sold by Laurence Blaicklocke: at his Shop at the Sugarloaf next Temple Bar in Fleetstreet. 1640.   

TO THE WORTHY (AND WORTHILY OF ALL WHO KNOW YOU TO BE MUCH HONOURED) Mris SUSANNA STRANGWAYES, Wife of GYLES STRANGWAYES Esquire, Son and Heir to Sir JOHN STRANGWAYES Knight.  
YOung Ladies and Gentlewomen that are studious of reading good Books, (such as yourself oft converse withal) when they find their eyes wax dull and weary, put their book from them; and for their better refreshing and diversion, change the Scene, and breathe themselves a while, till their spirits being thereby revived, they turn to their wont strength and vigour. I have seen some of your Sex, (especially such as have been gentily bred) when they have wrought hard with their Needle upon some curious Work, have laid that aside, and taken a Lute in hand, or some other musical Instrument, and played a Lesson or two thereon, to recreate themselves therewith, and anon after fall to their work afresh: So natural is it to all sorts of persons whatsoever to take delight in Variety. To harp always on one string, is harsh to the Eare. To feed still upon one Dish, doth but glut the Stomach. Your wisest and learnedst Men both in Church and Commonweal, will sometimes leave off their more serious Discourses, and entertain themselves with matters of harmless Merriment, and Disports. Such are these Stories I present unto your view. I will not promise any great profit you shall reap by reading them: but I promise they will be pleasing andd elightfull; the Scene is so often varied, the Passages so pretty, the Accidents so strange; and in the end brought to so happy a Conclusion. Here, though one bit (as we say) will draw down another, you shall not cloy yourself. These are but a few of running banqueting dishes: Take (as you like) here and there a little of each sort: which will but whet your Stomach, and set an edge on your Appetite, against you come to feed your Understanding with meats more nourishable and substantial. If you shall but kindly accept, and take in good part (which the sweetness of your Disposition cannot otherwise choose) this poor Pittance, you will encourage me to invite you to a more solemn Feast, worthier yourself, and him, who shall ever love and honour your Virtues and Goodness.  
Don Diego Puede-Ser,   

A STORY OF TWO DAMSELS.  
THE FIRST BOOK.  
FIve Leagues off from the City of Seville, there is a Town called Castilblanco, and into one, of those many Inns which it hath, about the shutting in of the day when night was drawing on, entered a Travaylour, a stranger to that place, mounted upon a very handsome Nag, he had no servant attending on him, and without staying that any should hold his Stirrup, with great nimbleness he dismounted himself. The Host of the house made all the haste he could unto him, (who was a diligent man and careful to give his Guests content) but for all the speed he made he came not in soon enough; in so much that this Travaylour was already lighted from his horse, and had sat him down upon a bench which was in the court, where falling a pace to the unbuttoning of his doublet his arms fell presently one one way, and another another giving a manifest sign and token of fainting, and swooning. The Hostess who was a charitable woman, ran forth unto him, and sprinkling his face with cold water made him come again to himself; and he making show that it did much trouble him that they had seen him in this taking, returned to the buttoning up of his doubtlet, entreating that they would presently bring him to a lodging whither he might with draw himself, and that if it were possible he might be all alone. His Hostess told him that she had no more but one empty in all the house, and that that too had two beds in it, and that she must be constrained if any other Guests should come thither that night, to accommodate him in the one of those two beds▪ Whereunto this our Travaylour replied, that he would pay her for both the beds, whether any guest came or not; and putting his hand into his Pocket, and taking out a Crown in gold, he gave it unto his Hostess, but with this condition, that she should not let any one lie in the spare bed. His Hostess was no whit displeased with her pay, but rather willingly offered herself to do that which he desired: yea, though the Dean himself of Sevill should come that night to her house. Then did she ask him, whether he would sup or no? he told her no; only he entreated her that there might be an especial care taken of his Nag▪ He called for the key of the chamber, and carrying up with him his Portmanteau, he entered thereinto, and shutting the door after him, he turned the key and locked it. And to make the surer work (by that which afterwards appeared) he had set two chairs against it. He had scarce shut himself up in his Chamber, but that mine Host and Hostess, and the Ostler and two other of their neighbours which were there by chance, laid their heads together (as if they had been so many grave Counselors) and began to talk and discourse of the great beauty and sprightful disposition of this their new guest, all of them concluding that they had never in all their lives seen a fairer or more beautiful Creature. Then fell they to the reckoning up of his age, and their resolution was, that it was about 16. or 17. years or much thereabouts. Much prattle they had about it, too and fro, off and on, and more particularly, what might be the cause of that his fainting and swooning? But because that was beyond their reach, they rested contented being rapt with admiration and wonder of his rare proportion, and comeliness of person. The neighbours went away to their own house, the Host to take care of the Nag, and the hostess to make ready something for supper for such other guests as might happily come. And it was not long before another entered, somewhat but not much elder than the former, and of no less metal and spirit, and the hostess had even scarce seen him, when she broke out into this exclamation; God bless me, what a strange thing is this? Are Angels come this night to lodge in my house? Why say you so said this new come gentleman to the hostess? Sir said she, I do●… not say that for naught; only I say unto you, that you will be pleased to spare yourself the labour of a lighting, because I have never a bed for you; for those two which I had, a gentleman that lodgeth in that Chamber there, hath taken them up, and hath paid me for both, though he hath need but of one, because he will have none to be with him in his Chamber. And it seemeth he loveth solitariness and shuneth company, but why and wherefore I know not: for he hath such a face and disposition as ought not to be hidden, but that all the world should both see and praise it. Is he such and so handsome (mine hostess) as you speak him to be? (replied the gentleman) such? (quoth mine hostess) yes much more than such, since only he is such. Thereupon the gentleman replied, though I sleep all night on the bare floor, I am resolved to see this curious piece by you so highly commended, and calling to his man, who came along with him, willing him to hold his ●…tirrup he alighted, and gave order to have his supper made ready as soon as possibly they could, which was done in a trice: And whilst he was sitting at supper, comes me in an Alquazil of the Town, (as ordinarily they use to do in little Villages,) and sat him down by this gentleman to converse with him, and keep him company till he had made an end of his supper, and between whiles he did not (for all his discoursing) forbear to trill down three good goblets of Wine, and tyre upon the brains and cradle of a Partridge which the gentleman gave him, which kindness the Alquazil thought he had requited to the full by ask him, what news at Court? how the wars went on in Flanders? and whether the Turk were not making great preparation for his coming down into Christendom? not forgetting to question him touching Transilvania, how things stood there, etc. The gentleman had by this time supped, and was silent all the while, because he was unaquainted with those passages, and therefore could not satisfy him in those his demands. Now likewise by this time had mine host ended the provendring of the Nag, and came and sat himself down to make a third in this their conversation, and to fall a tasting of his own wine, gulping down no less than the Alquazil, and after every cup that he took he would wry his head; and laying it on his left shouder, and highly commending the wine, said that it carried him into the Clouds, though he durst not stay any long time in them, lest he should have too much water in his wine. And ever and anon he fell a reiterating the praises of his guest that had shut up himself, telling them of his swooning, and that he would have nothing to his supper, exaggerating all things in an excessive kind of manner. Hereunto he added what Portmanteu he had, and the goodness of his Nag, and what a dainty riding suit; all which did require that he should not travail thus without a man to wait upon him. All these exaggerations did stir up a new desire in the other to have a sight of him, and entreated his host that he would by one means or other so bring the business about, that he might get into the chamber and lie in that other bed, and that he would give him a Crown in Gold for his pains. And although the greediness of gain had already wrought the effect even upon mine Hosts will, yet he found it was not seasonable by reason that he had shut in himself, neither durst he awaken him out of his sleep, having likewise considered with himself, that he had paid well for both the beds; all which rubs the Alquazil did remove, making the way very facile and easy: Telling them that which may, and is to be done, is this, I will knock at the door, saying that I am the justice, & that by the command of my master the Alcalde I was willed to bring this gentleman to lodge in this Inn, and that there being no other bed for him, his will and pleasure was that he should have that; whereupon mine Host must reply, aggravating the great wrong and injury that is done him, being that he had rent the chamber and bed of him, and that there was no reason in the world why he should not freely enjoy that which he was possessed of, and had paid so well for it; so by this means mine host shall be blameless, and your worship shall obtain your purpose. This plot of the Alquazil was very well liked and approved by all of them. And the gentleman who had a longing desire to see this rare jewel, enclosed as it were in a case, gave the Alquazil four royals in Requital of his readiness to do him this desired service. Whereupon he presently puts his plot in execution, and in conclusion the first guest showing great risentment, removing the chairs and unlocking the door, opened it to the justice: And the second guest craving pardon of the wrong which he might conceive he had done him, went and laid him down in the leer bed. But the other returned him not so much as one word in answer thereunto, much less would he suffer him to see his face, for he had scarce opened the door, but he hide himself with all the haste he could to his bed, and turning his face to the wall, that he might not answer him, made as though he were asleep: the other also betook him to his rest, hoping in the morning when they were to get up to accomplish his desire; The nights were of those long and large ones of December, and the coldness of the weather and the weariness of their journey, might enforce Travailours to procure to them pass over with sweet repose. But because the first guest knew not what ease or rest was, anon after midnight he began to sigh so grievously, that with every sigh he seemed to send his soul from out his body, and so deeply were they fetched from the heart root, that though the second guest were fast asleep, he could not choose but be wakened with the pitiful sound of the complainant. And wondering at the sobs and throbs, wherewith he accompanied those his sighs, he attentively set himself to listen unto that, which to his seeming he whispered and muttered to himself. The room was dark, and the beds in a good distance the one from the other, yet notwithstanding all this, he came to hear amongst other his discourse, these ensuing, which with a weak and feeble voice were uttered by the first afflicted guest.  
Ah me! of all other I most unfortunate! Whither doth the unresistable force of my destiny carry me? what course is this which I run? or what hope have I to part out of this intricate Labyrinth wherein I find myself? O my few and ill expired years, incapable of all good consideration, and counsel. What end will this my unknown peregrination have? O my contemned and despised honour, how lightly have I set by thee? O my ill requited love! O how have I trodden under foot the respects that I owed to my noble Parents and kinsfolk! And ah me, a thousand and a thousand times that I have with so loose a reign suffered myself to be carried away by my desires! O ye feigned words, which did sotruly and really oblige me, that by my works and deeds I should correspond with you! But alas poor miserable perplexed wretch that I am, of whom do I complain? To whom do I make my moan? Am not I the person that was so willing to deceive myself? Am not I the party that took the knife with mine own hands, wherewith I did cut off my credit and throw it on the ground, and together therewith the reputation and worth of my ancient parents? O faithless Marco Antonio, how is it possible that in those sweet words which thou uttredst unto me, the gall should be mingled of thy discourtesies and disdains? O thou ungrateful where art thou? whither forgetful of me, art thou gone? Answer me, for I speak unto thee; uphold me, for I am ready to fall, pay me that which thou owest me; relieve me in my distress since I have so many ways obleiged thee unto me. Having said this she was silent; manifesting by her sighs and groans that her eyes did not cease to shower down tears in abundance. All which this second guest lay listening unto with a still and quiet silence; collecting by those discourses which he had heard, that without doubt it was a woman that did thus complain and be wail her wretched condition; which served as a coal to kindle the more the desire he had of knowing her; and he had often resolved with himself to go on to her bed, being fully persuaded she was a woman. And doubtless he had done it, if in that very instant he had not heard him rise, and opening the chamber door call to the Host of the house to saddle his Nag, because he would presently be gone. To whom mine Host, after suffering himself a good while to be called upon, made answer, that he should go sleep and take his rest, for it was not yet midnight, or but a little paste, and that it was so exceeding dark that it were great rashness and indiscretion to put himself upon his journey. With this he rested quiet, and returning to shut the door, he did not lay, but throw himself all at once down upon the bed, sending forth withal a strong sigh. It seemed unto him that heard him not amiss to speakeunto him, & to offer himself to procure his remedy, as far forth as on his part he was able to perform; to the end he might oblige him thereby to discover himself, and to recount unto him the lamentable history of his misfortune: And therefore said unto him; Certainly (noble Sir) if the sighs which you have vented, and the words which you have uttered had not moved me to a fellow-feeling and condoling of that evil, whereof you complain, I should think with myself that I wanted natural compassion, or that my soul were of stone, and my breast of hard brass. And if this compassion which I have of you, and if the purpose which I have put on to hazard my life for your remedy, (in case your malady requireth it) may merit any courtesy in recompense thereof, I beseech you that you will use it with me, by declaring unto me without covering or concealig any thing from me, the cause of your sorrow. If my sorrow had not bereft me of my sense (answered he that complained) I might very well have bethought myself that I was not all alone in this lodging, and therefore should have put a bridle to my tongue, and made a longer truce with my sighs: But in punishment of my memories failing me, and in such a place, where it so much imported me to have looked better unto it, I will do that which you desire me; because by renewing the sad story of my misfortunes, it may be that a new sense, and fresh feeling of them will make an end of me. But if you will that I do that which you desire me, you shall promise me by that faith which you have professed unto me in that offerture which you have made me, and that as you are a Gentleman, and by that inbred goodness which is in you, (for by that which your words express you, you promise much) that for the things which you hear from me, and which I shall tell you, you move not out of your bed, nor come unto mine, nor ask more of me, than what I shall be willing to tell you; for if you shall do contrary thereunto, in that very instant that I hear you stir or move, with a Sword which I have at my bed's head, I will run myself through the body. The other (who would not stick to promise a thousand impossibilities, for to know that which he so much desired) made answer, that he would not in any the least Title differ from that which he desired, confirming the same with a thousand oaths. Upon this security the first guest said unto him, I will now do that which hitherto I never did to any, to wit, to give you an account of my life, and therefore hearken unto it.  
Sir, I must give you to understand that I who entered into this lodging (as no doubt but they have told you) in man's attire, am an unfortunate Damsel, at least one that was so, not full eight days ago, but have now lost that noble name by mine unadvisedness and foolishness, and by giving credit to the well composed, but counterfeit words of faithless men. My name is Theodosia, my country one of the chiefest and prime places of all Andaluzia, whose name I silence (because it doth not so much import you to know it, as it doth me to conceal it) My parents are noble, and more than meanly rich, who had between them one son and one daughter; he, for to be a staff to rest themselves on in their old age, and an honour to their house, and she, the clean contrary. They sent him to Salamanca to study, and me they kept at home, where they bred me up with such wariness and circumspection as best became their virtue and nobleness, and I without any repining or grudging was always obedient unto them, conforming my will unto theirs without erring therefrom in any least point, till that my happiness being in the Wane, or my misfortune growing towards the Full, a son of one of our neighbours, more rich than my parents and no less noble than they, presented himself to mine eyes. The first time that I saw him, I was not sensible of any thing else, save only a complacency and kind of pleasingness in having seen him, neither was it much that I should be somewhat taken therewith, because his bravery, gentle carriage, face, and fashion were of the most, praiseworthy and best esteemed in those parts, receiving some further addition by his rare discretion and courtesy. But what does it avail me to praise mine enemy, or to go, by way of discourse, in larging his my unfortunate success, or (to say better) the beginning of my folly? In conclusion, I say, that he saw me not once but often from a window that was right over against mine. From thence (as it seemed then unto me) he sent his soul unto me by his eyes, and mine, with another kind of content then at first, took pleasure and delight in beholding him and did even enforce me to believe that they were pure truths which I read in his face and behaviour▪ His eyes, were the intercessors and procurers of speech, his speech, the Interpreter of his desire, his desire, the inflamer of mine, and of giving faith and belief unto his. To these he added promises, oaths, tears, sighs and all that which to my seeming a firm and constant lover could possibly do, for to express the integrity of his loving affection, and the steadfastness and sincerity of his heart and mind And in me (poor soul) who had never seen myself in the like occasions, and dangerous adventures heretofore, every word, was a Canon shot which did batter down a part of the Fort of mine honour; every scalding tear, was a flaming fire wherein my honesty was scorched and burnt; every sigh, a furious wind which did in such sort augment the flame, that it came to consume that virtue which until then had been never touched; and lastly, having plighted his faith and truth to me to be my husband in despite of his parents (who had provided another wife for him) I did set all my retiredness at six and seven, not caring which way the world went: and, without knowing how myself, I delivered over myself into his power (my parents being unacquainted therewith) without having any other witness of my folly, and inconsiderate rashness, than Marco Antonio his Page, (for this is the name of the disturber of my rest and quietude) and scarce had he taken of me the possession of that which he so much desired, but that within two days after he disappeared and was gone, neither his parents; nor any other person being able to tell or imagine which way he took, or what was become of him. In what a woeful case I was, let him speak that is able to speak it, for I know not, nor ever knew more, save only to bewail and lament it▪ I did chastise my hairs as if they had been in fault, and guilty of my errors; I did marryrise my face, because I conceived that it had given the occasion of all my mishap. I cursed my fate, accused my too quick determination, I did shed many and infinite tears, I saw myself even almost choked betwixt them and those sighs which vented themselves from forth my grieved soul: I silently complained on heaven, I reasoned and discoursed with mine imagination, to see if I could discover any way or part that might lead to my remedy. And that which I found was, to put myself into man's apparel, and in that disguised habit to absent myself from the house of my parents, and to go seek out this second Imposter Aeneas, and this cruel and faithless Viveno, this defrauder of my good thoughts, and of my lawful & well grounded hopes, and so without sounding to the bottom, or diving any deeper into my discourse, occasion offering me a riding suit of my Brothers, and a Nag of my Fathers, which I saddled in an exceeding dark night, I got me packing, with purpose to go to Salamanca where (as it was afterwards told me) it was thought Marco Antonio might hap to be; for he likewise is Student there (as before I told you) and my brother's chamber-fellow. Nor did I omit to take good store of Crowns with me, against all chances that might befall me in this my unthought on journey. But that which doth most trouble me, is, lest that my parents should follow after me, and find me out by my clothes, and by the Nag which I have brought along with me. But put case I did not fear this, yet am I afraid of my brother, who is in Salamanca, by whom if I come to be known, the peril is easy to be apprehended, whereunto my life is put for though he may hear my excuses in my discharge, yet the least point of his honour will weigh down the balance, and oversway all the satisfaction that I shall be able to give him. Notwithstanding all this, my principal determination is (though I lose my life in the pursuit) to seek out this false hearted man my Husband, for he cannot deny himself so to be, unless he will give the lie to those pledges which he left in my power, which are a Ring of Diamonds, and the Poesy therein, speaking thus▪ Marco Antonio, is Theoaosia's Husband If▪ meet with him, I will put him to the question what it was that moved him so quickly to leave me? And in conclusion I am fully resolved that he shall comply with his promised word and faith made unto me, which if he refuse to do, I will kill him; showing myself as ready to take revenge, as I was facile in suffering him to wrong me. For that nobleness of blood which my parents have given me, goes rousing up my spirits, and puts such metal into them, that they already promise me either a remedy of my received wrong, or a full revenge of my offered affront. This (noble Sir is the true and unfortunate History which you so much desired to know, which may sufficiently plead the excuse of those sighs and words which did awake you out of your sleep. That which I now beg and entreat of you, is, that since you cannot give me any remedy, yet at least you will give me your best counsel and advise, whereby I may be able to avoid those dangers which may oppose themselves, and stand in my way, and to qualify and moderate the fear which I have of being found out, and to facilitate the means which I am to use for the obtaining of that, which I so much desire and stand in need of.  
He who had attentively harkened to the History of enamoured Theodosia, continued a great while without returning her so much as one word, & so long that she thought he was asleep, and that he had heard nothing of all that she had said. And for to certify herself of that which she suspected, she said unto him; Sleep you Sir? Indeed it is not amiss, that you should sleep, because the grieved and afflicted person, who recounteth his miseries and misfortunes to him that is not sensible of them, it is meet that they should cause in him that heareth them rather sleep then pity.  
I sleep not replied the Gentleman, but rather am so broad awake, and so sensible of your disadventure, that I do not know, whether it may be said that it grieveth me in the self same degree as it doth you; and therefore the counsel which you crave of me shall not only end in advising you, but in helping you as far forth as my ability and strength shall enable me. But seeing that in the manner which you have held in recounting unto me your success, you have manifested the rare understanding wherewith you are endowed, me thinks, that answerable thereunto, your own rendered up will should not have so mightily misled you▪ so that it seemeth your own inclination and willingness did more deceive you, than Marco Antonio his persuasions. Yet notwithstanding I am content to take in excuse of your error, those your few and tender years which for want of experience cannot come to discern the manifold deceits of men. Gentlewoman patient yourself, go, take your rest, and sleep if you can, during this small remnant of night, and when the day shall come on, we two will lay our heads together, and see what course is best to be taken for to give you remedy. Theodosia in the best language she could deliver, acknowledged her thankfulness, and settled herself to rest a while, that she might give way to the Gentleman to sleep. But it was not possible for him to take any rest, but he rather began to toss and tumble too and fro in the bed, and to sigh in such sort that Theodosia was enforced to ask him, what he ailed? And that if it were some passion whereunto she might apply any remedy, she would do it with the same willingness as he had offered unto her. Hereunto the gentleman answered, suppose (Gentlewoman) that you are she which causeth that disquietness which you have perceived in me, yet you are not she that are able to remedy it: For could you be she I should not feel any pain at all. Theodosia could not well understand whether those confused reasons tended, yet notwithstanding she suspected that some amorous passion did trouble him: And thought with herself that she was the cause, and she might with some reason suspect and think so, since that the commodity of the lodging, the solitude and darkness of the room, and she being now known to be a woman, it had been no such great wonder that it should awaken and stir up in him some evil motions. And therefore being fearful thereof, she made herself ready in great haste, and with much silence and stillness, and took to her her sword and dagger, and being thus armed sitting down upon her bed, she continued in that posture expecting day, which within a little while after gave tokens of his coming by that light which entered in by many chinks and crevices, which commonly all your lodgings in Inns are seldom without. And what Theodosia did, the same did the Gentleman, for he no sooner saw the lodging starrifyed with the day light peeping through those many little holes, but he forth with rose from his bed, saying, Arise Mistress Theodosia, for I will accompany you in this your journey, and will never let you go from my side, until that you have Marco Antonio to be your lawful husband, or that either he or I will lose our lives, And by this shall you know the obligation and willingness, whereinto your misfortune hath put me. And having said this, he opened the windows and doors of the Chamber. Theodosia was well pleased therewith, longing to see by the clearness of that light, what manner of man he was with whom she had held discourse all that night. But when she had viewed him and knew him, she then wished that it had never been day, but that there her eyes had been closed and shut up in perpetual night. For the Gentleman had scarce turned his eyes towards her to behold her, (for he like wise did desire to see her) but she presently perceived, that it was her brother of whom she was so much afraid. With whose sight she had almost lost that of her own eyes, and remained suspensive and speechless, and without any colour in her cheeks. But drawing from fear courage, and from danger discretion, pulling out her Dagger, she took it into her hand by the point, and humbling herself on her knees before her brother, she spoke unto him with a troubled and timorous voice, saying; Take this (my beloved brother) and work on me with this sharp pointed Iron the chastisement of that folly which I have committed, satisfying therewith thy displeasure, sithence that for so great a crime as mine, it is not fit that any mercy should be extended towards me. I confess my offence, acknowledge my sin, but would not that my repentance should serve to excuse my fault. Only I beseech you that the punishment may be such, as may take away my life, but not mine honour; for although I have put it into manifest peril, by absenting myself from my father's house, yet notwithstanding it cannot escape opinion, if the chastisement which you give shall not be secret.  
Her brother looked steadily on her, and thought the looseness of her audaciousness did in●…ite him to revenge, yet those her so tender and effectual words, wherewith she manifested her fault, did in such sort mollify his bowels, and work such compassion in him, that with a pleasing countenance and cheerful semblance, he raised her up from the ground, and comforted her the best he either could or knew; telling her (amongst other speeches which he used unto her) that because he could not find out a punishment answerable to her folly, he would suspend it for the present, and that therefore as well in respect of that, as also for that it seemed unto him, that Fortune had not as yet wholly shut the doors against giving her remedy, he rather made choice to procure it her by all possible means, then to take revenge of that wrong, and affront, which by her overmuch lightness and credulity reflected upon him. With these kind words Theodosia began to recover her lost spirits, her colour returned to her face, and her almost dead hopes were quickened and revived. Don Rafael (for so was her brother called) was not thence forward willing to treat any more with her touching her disaster, knowing how harsh that note would sound in her ears, only he advised her that she would change that her name of Theodosia into Theodoro, and that they would both of them go forthwith to Salamanca to look out Marco Antonio, albeit he imagined that he was not there; because being his chamber▪ fellow he would have acquainted him with his going thither, though it might be that the wrong which he had done him in his sister did not only make him conceal it, but to have no desire at all to see him. This our new Theodoro referred herself wholly to that which stood with her brother's pleasure. And now (for a Parenthesis) comes in mine Host, whom they appointed, that he should make ready their breakfast, for they would presently be gone. In the Interim that their beasts were sadling, and breakfast come in, there entered into the Inn a Gentleman a Travaylour, who was instantly known by Don Rafael. Theodoro likewise knew him, but durst not come out of the lodging for fear of being seen. These two lovingly embraced each other, and Don Rafael asked this new comer, what news there was in those parts from whence he came. To whom he made answer, that he came from the port of Santa Maria, where he left four Galleys that were bound for Naples, and that in them he saw embarked Marco Antomo Adorno, the son of Don Leonardo Adorno, with which news Don Rafael was wonderful well pleased; conceiving, that since so without any further trouble, he came to have knowledge of that which did so much concern him, it was a sign that the business he had in hand would have a good end. He entreated his friend that he would exchange his Mule with him for his father's Nag, telling him that he was to go to Salamanca, and was loath to carry along with him so good a Nag so long a journey. The other who was a well bred man, and his friend was content to exchange with him, and took it to his charge to deliver the Nag to his father. They two broke fast together, and Theodoro alone by himself, and the time of parting being come, they took their leave each of other, and Don Rafaels' friend took the way that led to Cazalla, where he had a goodly Lordship, Don Rafael did not go cut with him, and that he might the better give him the slip, he told him that he must needs return that day to Sevill. And therefore as soon as he was gone, their beasts being brought forth, having made their reckoning, & paid their host, saying Adieu, they road forth of the Inn, leaving as many as remained therein, wondering at his great beauty & gentle carriage; who for a man had no less gracefulness, metal and sweetness of behaviour than his sister. They were no sooner gone thence, but Don Rafael told her the news which he had received concerning Marco Antonio, and that he thought it fit that with all possible diligence they should make for Barcelona, where ordinarily the Galleys which either pass into Italy or come for Spain, stay a day or two; and in case they were not as yet come they might stay & expect their arrival, & that there without doubt they should find Marco Antonio. His sister said unto him that he should do what liked him best, for her will was his Don Rafael then calling to the Muletere, whom he brought along with him told him that he must have patience, for it stood him upon to go to Barcelona, assuring him that he would give him good content and pay him well for the time he should continue with him. The Muletere, who was a good fellow, & as blithe a lad as any of his function, and one who knew that Don Rafael was a liberal gentleman, made answer that he would go with him to the end of the world, and do him the best service he could. Hereupon Don Rafael demanded of his sister what moneys she had brought along with her? she replied that she had not told them, & that she knew no more concerning them, save that they had put her hand into her father's Cabinet seven or eight times, and took it out full of Pistolets, & according to that quantity, Don Rafael imagined that it might be a matter of some 500▪ Crowns, which with other two hunded which he had, and a chain of Gold which he wore about his neck, he thought himself very well provided: And the better, for that he verily persuaded himself that he should meet with Marco Antonio in Barcelona; with this persuasion they slacked no time, they made all the haste they could, without losing one day's journey, and so without any let or impediment befalling them, they came within two leagues of town, which is nine from Barcelona, named Yqualada. They had notice upon the way, how that a gentleman of quality, who was to go Ambassador to Rome, stayed in Barcelona expecting the Galleys which were not as yet come thither; news which liked him well, & gave him much content with this good tidings, they jogged merrily on, till they were upon entering into a little wood, out of which they saw a man come running, & looking behind him, as one that had been shrewdly affrighted. Don Rafael put himself before him, saying unto him, my honest friend, why dost thou fly away so fast? or what is it hath befallen thee, that with manifestation of such great fear, hath put wings to thy feet, and made thee make so much haste; will you not that I run with haste (answered this affrighted man) since that I have miraculously escaped from a company of outlaws, and highway robbers, that keep this wood to pray upon passengers? This is not well (said the Muletere) it is not well I tell you; robbers at this time of day? we are like to smart for it, they will make novices of us. Brother be not dismayed, do not vex or grieve yourself at it, for they have done their business▪ and are gone by this time, having left bound to the Trees of this wood above 30. passengers, stripping them even to their very shirts. Only they left one man at liberty, that he might unbind the rest, after that they had recovered a little mountain, from whence they would give him a signal to set them free. If this be so (said Calvete) for so was the Muletere called, we may safely pass, because that place where these robbers make their prey, do not for a pretty while after return thither again. And this I am able to assure you of, as one that hath fallen twice into their hands, and am well acquainted with their tricks and fashions; it is true that he tells you, said the man. Which being heard by Don Rafael, he resolved to pass forward, and they had not gone far, when lo they lighted on those that were bound, being above 40▪ persons, whom he that they had left loose, fell to unbinding of them as fast as he could; it was a strange spectacle, to see some stark naked, others clad with the robbers tattered rags; some weeping to see themselves robbed and stripped of all that they had, others laughing to see the strange forms and fashions of their fellows, and how oddly they looked when their feathers were plucked from them, and outed of their gay clothes. This man reckoned up to a farthing what they had taken from him; that other, that a Box with an Agnus Dei in it, which he brought from Rome did more grieve and trouble him then all the rest of the things, though of great value, which they took from him. In conclusion, all that passed there were nothing else but tears, and the loud lamentations of those miserable despoiled passengers. All which not without a great deal of sorrow, the two brothers beheld, rendering thanks to heaven that it had freed them from so great and imminent a danger. But that which hath wrought more upon their compassion, and stirred up most pity in them, especially in Theodoro, was to see fast bound to the trunk of an oak, a young youth of the age (to seeming) of 16. years, with a shirt only to his back, and a pair of linen breeches, but of so fair and beautiful a countenance, that he moved and enforced all that beheld him to take pity of him. Theodoro alighted to unbind him, and he returned very courteousand thankful language for the received benefit. And to make it the greater, he entreated Calvete their Mu●…tere to lend him his cloak, till that they should (which they would do the first town they came at) buy another for this pretty gentile youth. Calvete gave it him, and Theodoro covered therewith the youth, ask him whence he was, whence he came and whither he would. At all this Don Rafael was present, and the youth answered, that he was of Andaluzia, and of such a place, which in naming of it, made them to know it was but two leagues distant from their own habitation; he told them that he came from Sevill, and that his design was to go for Italy, to try his fortune in the exercise of Arms, and to be trained up in the school of honour, as many other Spaniards daily used to do. But that his chance was unfortunate by that his ill encounter, with those Outlaws and Robbers, who took a good quantity of money from him and such clothes that he could not buy the like for 300. Crowns, yet notwithstanding all this, he was resolved to prosecute his course because he came of such a race, that the first evil success that befell him, should not cool the heat of his fervent desire. The good discourse and language of the youth, together with their having heard that he was so near a neighbour unto them, and more especially for that Letter of recommendation which was writ in his forehead, wrought a loving affection in both the brothers to favour him in all they were able. And so sharing amongst those which to their seeming had most need, some moneys; more particularly amongst the Friars and Churchmen, which were to the number of eight. They made the youth to get up upon Calvetes Mule, and without further stay, in short space they arrived at Yqualada, where they came to learn that the Galleys had put into Barcelona the day before, and that within those two days they were to be gone, if foul weather did not hinder them. This news made them to rise early in the morning before the Sun was up, though all that night they slept but broken sleep; The occasion of this sudden passion and inquietude in the two brothers, grew upon this occasion; they sitting at board, and with the youth whom they had unbound, Theodoro fixed his eyes very wishly on his face, and beholding somewhat curiously with a prying look, he perceived that he had holes boared through the tips of his ears, and as well by this, and by that maiden blush, and modest countenance which he showed, his mind gave him that she must needs be a woman and sat upon thorns all supper time, wishing that it were ended, that taking him aside he might the better certify himself of this his suspicion And whilst they were at supper, Don Rafael demanded of him whose son he was, because he knew all the principal persons thereabouts, and if he had named the place aright, he could not choose but know his condition and quality. Whereunto the youth answered, that he was the son of Don Henrique de Cardenas, a Gentleman well known to all; hereunto Don Rafael replied, that he very well knew Don Henrique de Cardenas, but withal knew and was well assured of it, that he had no son at all, but conceived that he told him so, because he was loath to discover his parents; and because it did not import him to know whether it were so or no, he would not press that point any further, nor had any purpose to question him any more of it, it is true (answered the youth) that Don Henrique hath no sons, but a brother of his called, Don Sancho. Nay (quoth Don Rafael) that is not so, he hath no sons neither, but one only daughter, and it is said of her, that she is the fairest Damsel that is in all Andaluzia; but this I know no otherwise then by the fames and general report that goes of her. For though I have been often there where she lives, yet it was never my good hap to see her. All that you say (Sir) is true, (replied the youth) for Don Sancho indeed hath no more but one daughter, but not so fair as fame reports her. And if I told you that I was son to Don Henrique, I spoke it (Gentlemen) only to this end, that you might hold me in the better esteem, but ingeniously to confess the truth, I am not the son of Don Henrique, but of the Steward to Don Sancho, who hath served him these many years, and I was borne in his house, and upon a certain distaste which I had given my father, having taken good store of money with me, I was willing as I told you to make for Italy, and to follow the wars, by which course I have seen many of mean birth and obscure parents come to be noble, and rise to the highest places of honour and command. All these reasons, and the manner of delivering them. Theodoro attentively noted, and still went more and more confirming the suspicion he had entertained. Now by this time supper was ended, and all taken away, and while Don Rafael was making himself unready, Theodoro having told him the conceived suspicion he had of the youth, with his good leave and liking he took the youth aside to a broad bay window, which looked out towards the street, and they two standing both close breast to breast, Theodoro began to break the Ice, and to speak to the youth in this ensuing manner.  
I could wish (Sennor Francisco) for so did he style himself) that it had been in my power to have done you so many good offices, that they might have obliged you, not to deny me any thing whatsoever, that I either could or would ask of you, but that little time which hath brought you to my knowledge hath not given way thereunto, it may be that in that which is to come, you shall come to know that which my desire deserveth from you. And if to that which I now have at this present, you shall not be pleased to give satisfaction; yet for all this shall I not cease to be your servant, as I now profess myself truly to be. And before that I discover my conception unto you, I would have you to know, that although my years be as few as yours, yet have I had more experience of the things of this world, than they promise. And thereby have I come to suspect, that you are not a man as your habit shows you to be, but a woman, and likewise so borne as your beauty publisheth you to be, and peradventure so unfortunate as this changing of your apparel presents it to our understanding, since that such kind of disguizing as these are never good for the party that put them on; if that which I suspect be true, deal plainly with me, for I swear and vow unto you by the faith of a gentleman, that I will assist and serve you in all that I am able. Now, that you are not a woman, you cannot possibly deny it, for by those windows in your ears, the truth is clearly to be seen, and I must tell you, you have been a little too negligent and careless in the shutting and stopping of these holes, with some wax of the same colour with your ear, which might so artificially have been done, that another so curious as myself though not so honest, should hardly have discerned that which you have not so well known to cover. I tell you therefore that you need not be scrupulous, or cast any doubts in declaring unto me who you are, for I offer you my assistance and service, and assure you that I will be as secret as you yourself would have me to be.  
With great attention did this ●…youth stand, harkening to that which Theodoro said unto him; and continuing a while silent before that she made him any answer, she took hold on both his hands, and bringing them up to his mouth, by plain force he kissed them, and likewise bathed them with great store of tears, which trickled down his fair eyes, which strange sorrow caused the like in Theodoro, in so much that she could not forbear to accompany him in them, it being the proper and natural condition of women of quality to grow tender and sensible of other folk's griefs and afflictions. But after that with some difficulty he had withdrawn her hand from the youth's mouth, he stood very attentive to see what answer he would give him; who sending forth a grievous groan, accompanied with many sighs said, Sir, I neither will, nor can deny that your suspicion hath not been true, I am a woman, and of all women the most unfortunate, that ever was brought forth into the world▪ And since that the good deeds which you have done me, and the fair offers which you have made me, oblige me to obey you in all that you shall command me; listen now unto me, for I shall now tell you who I am, if it may not be troublesome and tedious unto you, to hear another's misfortunes. Let me live for ever in them, (replied Theodoro) if I shall not take as great pleasure in knowing them, as I shall the pain they will give me, in that they are yours. For I already begin to be a sensible of them as if they were mine own. And so returning to embrace him, and to make him new and true offers, the youth being somewhat better quieted, began to speak in this wise.  
Touching my country I told you the truth, but touching my parents, not. For Don Henrique is not my father, but mine uncle, but his brother Don Sancho is. And I am that unfortunate daughter which Don Sancho hath; who for her beauty (as your brother saith) is so much praised and commended, the falsehood whereof is easily to be seen in that little or none at all that I have. My name is Leocadia; the occasion of changing my attire, I shall now deliver unto you. Two leagues from that place where I lived, there is another, one of the richest & noblest in all Andaluzia, where in there liveth a principal gentleman, who fetcheth his pedigree from the noble and ancient Adorno of Genoa. This gentleman hath a son, who (if fame do not overlash herself in his praises, (as she hath done in mine) is in the rank of those Gentlemen, which deserve no mean commendation, being every way as complete as can be wished or desired in one of his quality. This Gentleman then, as well for the vicinity of both these places, as also that he was well affectioned to the exercise and sport of hunting, as my father likewise was, came now and then to our house, and stayed there five or six days together. All which days, yea and even part also of the nights he and my father passed abroad in the fields From this occasion either Fortune or Love or my little heedfulness, took that which was sufficient to throw me down headlong from the height of my good thoughts, to the bottom of that low estate and condition wherein I now am. For having beheld some what more than was lawful for a wary and discreet Damsel, the gentleness and discretion of Marco Antonio, and having considered the quality of his Lineage, and the great store of goods, bearing the name of those of Fortune) which his father had, it seemed unto me, that if I could get him to be my husband, it was all the happiness that could come within the compass of my desire. With this thought I began to eye him with more care, when as indeed it ought to have been done with more carelessness, since that he thereby came to take notice of my love by my looks. Nor did this Traitor either desire or need any other entrance for to enter himself into the secret of my bosom, and to rob me of the best pledges of my soul. But I know not (Sir) to what purpose I should put myself to recount unto you point by point those lesser matters in the prosecution of our love, because they make little to the substance of that business I am to treat of, but to tell you at once, that, which he with so many solicitations obtained of me, which was that having given me his faith and word, under great and (to my seeming firm and Christian oaths) to be my husband, I offered myself unto him to do whatsoever he would with me. But yet for all this, being not well satisfied with his oaths, and words, to the end that the wind might not carry them away, I wrought with him that he should write them down in a Schedule firmed with his name, strengthened with so many circumstances, that there with I rested satisfied. Having received this Schedule & note under his hand, I plotted and divised how that on such a night, he should come from his own house to mine, and enter by clambering over the garden wall, into my lodging, where without any disturbance he might reap that frivit, which for him only was reserved and destinated, at last came that night which by me was so much desired.  
Till she came to this point, Theodoro had the patience to continue silent, having her soul hanging on the words of Leocaaia, which with every one of them as with so many swords did pass through her very soul▪ especially, when she heard the name of Marco Antonio, & saw the rare beauty of Leocadia, and considered the greatness of her worth, interwoven with that her singular discretion, which she had well manifestd in the manner of recounting this her story. But when she came to say; at last came that night which by me was so much desired, she was ready to lose the stirrups of her patience, and not being able to hold and contain herself any longer, she broke out interrupting her discourse, into these ensuing words. Very well▪ and when this most happy and desired night was come, what did he then? Haddit▪ he the good hap to enter? Did he enjoy you? did he a new confirm the Schedule? Did he rest well pleased in having gotten that of you which you say was only his? did your father know of it? or in what ended these honest and wise beginnings.  
They did end (replied Leocadia) in putting me into this case wherein you now see me, for I did neither enjoy him, nor he me, nor came to any certain conclusion and final agreement.  
With these words Theodosia began to recover a little breath, and gathered up again those her spirits unto her, which by little and little went leaving her vital parts, incited and egged on by that raging pestilence of jealousy, which spreading and defusing itself, went entering her very bones and marrow, for to take entire possession of her patience. But for all this did not free her so fully therefrom, but that with some qualms and heart-passions, she returned to hearken again unto that which Leocadia prosecuted, saying; he did not only not come unto me, but some eight days after I was certainly informed that he had absented himself from his own home, and carried away with him▪ stealing her out of her father's house, a Damsel of the same place where he lived, the daughter of a noble Gentleman, named Theodosia, a Damsel of extraordinary beauty, and rare discretion. And for that she was descended of such noble Parents, this stealth was speed abroad in our Town, and presently brought to my ears, and with it that cold and fearful Lance of jealousy which pierced my heart, and did set my soul on such a flaming fire, that thereby my honour was turned into ashes, my credit consumed, my patience parched, and my wisdom wasted to nothing Ah me, most unfortunate! for I then presently began to figure in my imagination Theodosia to be fairer than the Sun, and more discreet than discretion itself, and above all, far more happy than I miserable. I read over and over the words of the Schedule again and again, I looked on the signing and confirming of our marriage by assurance, having set down his name thereunto in writing with his own hand, and that they could not possibly fail in that faith which they published: and although unto them, as to a Sanctuary, my hopes fled for shelter▪ but when I fell into the reckoning of that justly to be suspected company which Marco Antonio carried along with him, my cake was dough, & all those my hopes fell to the ground▪ I did ill entreat my face, I did tear my hairs and cursed my misfortune. And that which did most of all grieve me was that I could not offer up these sacrifices by reason of the enforced presence of my father. In conclusion that I might make an end of my wailing, and mourn to the full without any let or hindrance to stop the current of my sorrows, I resolved with myself to leave my father's house; and for to put in execution an evil thought, it seemeth that opportunity is never wanting, and that occasion doth facilitate, and remove out of the way all inconveniences, without fearing any thing that might befall me, I stole from one of my father's Pages a suit of clothes, and from my father good store of coin; and in a night that had put on his black cloak, I left the house, and walked some League a foot, till I came to a Town called Osuna. And accommodating myself there with a Wagon, from thence, within two days after I arrived in Sevill, which was an entering into the securest place that possibly could be for not being found out, though they should seek after me. There I bought me other clothes, and a Mule, and with certain Gentlemen that were speedily to go to Barcelona, that they might not lose the opportunity of the Galleys, which were to go for Italy, I travailed till yesterday a long with them, when that befell me which you know already, falling into the hand of Outlaws▪ and Robbers, who took all that I had from me, and amongst other things, that jewel which did keep me alive, preserve my health, and lighten the burden of my afflictions, to wit, the Schedule I had from Marco Antonio, thinking therewith to pass into Italy, and finding Marco Antonio to present the same unto him, as a witness of his small faith, and a testimony of my great constancy, and to work so with him that he should perform and make good his promise unto me. But together with this, I have weighed and considered with myself that he will easily deny the words that are written in a piece of paper, who denyeth those obligations, which ought to be engraven in the soul. Besides it is clear and apparent, that if he hath in his company the unparalled Theodosia, he will not vouchsafe to look upon wretched Leocadia. Howbeit notwithstanding all this, I am resolved either to die or to put myself in the presence of them both, that my sight may disturb their quiet. And let not that enemy to my rest think that she shall enjoy at so cheap a rate that which is mine. I will seek after her, I will find her out, and I will if I can, take away her life.  
But what fault can you find with Theodosia (said Theodoro) or wherein is she to be blamed, if happily she were likewise deceived by Marco Antonio, as well as you (Lady Leocadia) have been? It may be so (replied Leocadia:) But if he hath taken her along with him, and they who love each other so well, living together, what deceit can there be in this? Certainly none at all; they live contented since they live together. But I could wish (as we usually say) that they were in the remote and scorching deserts of Libya, or the furthermost part of frozen S●…ithia; she questionless enjoys him, be it where ever it be, and she only shall pay the cost of my sorrows, if it be my good hap to meet with her; it may be (said Theodoro) that you are much mistaken, and your jealousy hath misguided you, and blinded the eyes of your understanding. For, I know her very well, whom you call your enemy, and I am so privy to her condition, and retiredness, that she will never adventure to forego her father's house, nor to yield unto the will of Marco Antonio. But admit she should, yet she neither knowing you, nor witting any thing of that which hath passed betwixt him and you, she hath not done you any wrong at all, and where there is no wrong offered, no revenge ought to be taken. Of her retiredness (said Leocadia) you may say what you list for any great reckoning that I make of it. For I am sure that I was as retired & as honest as any Damsel in the world, and yet notwithstanding he got within me, and did as you have heard. Now that he carried her away with him, it is not to be doubted▪ And whereas you urge that she did not do me any wrong, should I look thereon without passion, I must confess she did not, but the pain whereunto my jealousy puts me, doth represent both her and it to my remembrance, & I shall hardly ever get it out of my memory. This is that sword which is sheathed in my bowels, and if I be not to be blamed, that as an instrument which gives me so much pain and torment, I labour and endeavour to pluck out the weapon that wounds me, and to break it in pieces, how much more prudence and wisdom is it, to put those things far from us, which do us hurt, since that it is natural unto us to hate and abhor those things which work our harm, and to remove those from us that hinder our good. Since you will have it so, be it as you say Lady Leocadia, answered Theodosia. For I perceive that the passion which at this present possesseth you, will not permit you to judge of things aright; nor are you for aught I see in case at this time to receive any wholesome counsel. For mine own part I shall say that which I have already said unto you, that I will be ready to favour and further you as far forth as I am able, in all that shall be just and meet. And I promise you the like from my brother, for his natural condition and nobleness, will not suffer him to do otherwise. Our course is shaped for Italy, if you please to go along with us you may guess at your usage by that little (though kind entertainment) which you have found in our company. Only I shall request one thing at your hands, which is; That you will give me leave, that I may acquaint my brother with this your business, that he may carry himself with that mannerliness and respect towards you as is due unto you, and that he may be thereby obliged to have a care of you, as it is meet he should. Besides, I would not have you to change that habit you now wear, for I hold it (as the case now stands) neither fitting nor safe for you. And if in this Town we can get any good clothes, to morrow morning I will buy you the best that are to be had for money, and which shall be most convenient for you, and as for the rest of your pretensions leave the care thereof unto time, which is a great master for the giving and finding out of remedies in cases that ●…e most desperate. Leocadia thanked Theodosia, whom she●… took to be Theodoro, and most kindly accepted of these her many courteous offers, and gave her leave to acq●… her brother with what she thought fit, beseeching her, that she would take her into her protection, since that she●… saw to what dangers she was exposed if she should be known to be a woman. With this they took leave each of other and repaired to their several lodgings to take their rest. Theodosia to that of her brother, and Leocadia to another that adjoined thereunto. Don Rafael was not as yet fallen asleep, expecting the coming of his sister, that he might know what passed with him, whom she thought to be a woman. And she entering before that he had ●…etled himself to take his rest, he demanded of her whether it were so or no? Who point by point, recounted all that Leocadia had said unto her. As, whose daughter she was, her being in love, the Schedule of Marco Antonio, and her intended purpose. Don Rafael wondered at it, and said unto his sister▪ if she be the same she speaketh herself to be, I must tell you (sister) she is of that place wherein she lives the most principal, and one of the noblest gentlewomen in all Audaluzia. Her father is very well known to ours, and that report which hath gone of her beauty, doth answer very well unto that which we now see in her countenance, and my opinion in this particular is; that we must be very wary and circumspect, that she do not get the start of us, and speak first with Marco Antonio. For that Schedule which she saith he made, though we should suppose it to be lost, yet will it behoove us to look about us, and will (I fear me) cost us some care. But be of good cheer (sister) get you to bed and take your rest, for we shall seek out a remedy to prevent this mischief, and to mee●…e with all inconveniences that shall occur. Theodosia did that which her brother commanded her concerning her going to bed▪ but in that of taking her rest, that lay not in her hand to do it; for that raging plague of jealousy had taken possession of her soul. O how much greater than it was in itself represented it see ●…e unto her imagination, the beauty of Leocadia, and the disloyatie of Marco Antonio! Oh! how often did she read, or ●…eigned to read the Schedule which he had given her! Oh! what reasons and words did she add thereunto to make it the more effectual and authentical! How often would she not believe that she had lost it! And how often imagine that without it, Marco Antonio would not fail to comply with his promise, without so much as once thinking on that, which he had made unto her, and the obligation wherein he stood bound unto her▪ In these and the like passages passed the greater part of that night, without sleeping one wink. And as little rest took her brother Don Rafael. For as soon as he heard tell who Leocadia was, his heart was as hotly inflamed with love as if he had long before for the same end held communication and conversation with her. For such force hath beauty that in an instant, in a moment of time it carries after it the desire of him that beholds & knows it, & when he doth discover or promise to himself some means how to obtain and enjoy it, the soul of him that contemplates it, is set on fire with a powerful vehemency, just after the same manner and easiness as dry and well conditioned powder quickly takes fire with the least spark that toucheth it. He did now no more imagine her to be ●…yed and bound to a tree, no●… clad with the tattered clothes of a man, but in her woman's apparel, and in the house of her rich parents, and of that principal rank and quality as they were. He did not neither was willing to detain his thoughts in a cause of that consequence, as this of bringing her to his knowledge, and therefore desired that day were come that he might prosecute his journey, and find out Marco Antonio, not so much for to make him his brother in law, as for to divert him from marrying of Leocadia. And now love and jealousy had taken such strong hold on him, that he would have h●…ld it for a good opinion rather to see his sister without that remedy, which he promised to procure for her, and Marco Antonio without life, and fairly buried, then to see himself hopeless of obtaining Leocadia. Which hopes went on, promising him a happy success in his desire, either by the way of force or by fair means, since that for the effecting of his purpose, time and occasion offered themselves for either: With this which he promised to himself, he was somewhat quieted, and within a little while after the day began to appear, and then they began to leave their beds And Don Rafael calling for the host of the house, demanded of him whether that their town would afford a suit of clothes for a Page who had been stipt naked by outlaws and robbers? Mine host replied, that he himself had a reasonable handsome suit to ●…ell▪ He brought it, and it fitted Leocadia as well as if it had been made for her. Don Rafael paid him for it, and she did put it on, and girded her sword and dagger unto her with such a grace and spirit, that in that very ga●…e & habit of hers▪ she did suspend the senses of Don Rafael, and multiply jealousies in Theodosia. Calvete had saddled his Mules and about eight in the morning they departed from their Inn, and set onward on their journey for Barcelona, omitting for the present to visit the famous Monastery of Mon●…errat▪ I want words to express to the life the thoughts which the two brothers entertained and with what different minds both of them went looking on Leocadia; Theodosia desiring her death, and Don Rafael, her life, both of them being jealous and passionate. Theodosia seeking to find out some faults in her that she might not despair of her hopes; And Don Rafael finding out perfections in her, that did the more oblige him to love her; yet for all this they were not careless in making all the hast they could, so that they came to Barcelona before Sunset. They did wonder at the beautiful situation of that City, and held it to be the flower of the fairest Cities of the world, the honour of Spain, the terror of their bordering and remote enemies, the pleasure and delight of its inhabitants, the Protectress of strangers, the school of Chivalry, the pattern of loyalty, and the satisfaction of all that which a discreet and curious desire can expect or wish from a great, famous, rich and well founded City. In their entering thereinto they heard an exceeding great noise and clamour, and they might see a great company of people run in a tumultuous kind of manner; and ask the cause of that noise and hurry, they made them answer, that they of the Galleys that were at the sea side, were together by the ears with those of the City. Which Don Rafael hearing, would needs go see what passed amongst them, though Calvete told him that he should by no means do it; for there was no wisdom or discretion in so doing, and that thereby he would put himself into manifest peril, for he knew well enough by experience how ill they came off, who did thrust themselves into such kind of differences, and confused garboils, which were ordinary in that City, when the Galleys came thither: but this good counsel of Calvete could not prevail so far forth with Don Rafael as to hinder his going, and so they all followed him. And in coming to the Sea shore they might see many swords drawn, and many people slashing each other without any pity or mercy. Notwithstanding all this, without alighting they came so near unto them, that they might distinctly see the faces of those that fought, for the Sun was not as yet down. Infinite was the people which came from the City, and great likewise the number which disimbarked themselves from the galleys; howbeit he that had the charge of the galleys, who was a knight of Valencia, called Don Pedro Vique, from the Poop of the Captain galley threatened those who had embarked themselves in the Cockboat to go & relieve their fellows; but seeing his persuasions nor ning could prevail with them, he caused the prow of the Galleys to be turned towards the City, and a piece of Ordnance to be discharged without a bullet, being a signal unto them, that if they did not depart and get them gone the next should not be shot off without it. Don Rafael was very attentive in beholding this cruel brangling and scuffling amongst them, and had noted and observed that amongst other brave fellows that took part with the Galleys, there was a young man that laid about him lustily, being about the age of two and twenty, little more or less, clad in green, with a hat of the same colour, adorned with a rich Hatband of Diamonds, the nimbleness and dextrousnesse wherewith this young gallant fought, and the bravery of his clothes caused all those that beheld the fight to turn their eyes towards him, and in such steadfast manner those of Theodosia, and Leocadia, that both of them at one and the same instant cried out, God bless me, either I have no eyes, or he in the green is Marco Antonio. And no sooner had they said this, but with great nimbleness they dismounted from their Mules, and drawing out their swords and daggers without any fear in the world, they made way through the midst of all the company, and placed themselves one on the one side, and the other on the other of Marco Antonio, (for he was that young man in green we formerly spoke of.) Fear you nothing, Marco Antonio, (so said Leocadia, as soon as she came in unto him) for you have one at your side, who with the loss of his own life, will be a shield for to save yours▪ who doubts it (replied Theodosia) I being here? Don Rafael, who saw and heard, what had passed, he likewise followed them, and took part with him. Marco Antonio being busied in offending others, and defending himself, did not take any notice of those words these two then said, but rather being very hot and earnest in fight, did things (to seeming) beyond belief. But in regard that the multitude of people came continually flocking from the City, they of the Galleys were enforced to retreat, wading through the water to get into their Boats; Marco Antonio retired likewise though sore against his will; And (sailing by the same compass) went retiring on either side of him those two valiant and new Bradamante, and Marfisa, or Hippolita and Penthesilea. Now while they were in this hurly burly came thither a Knight of Catalunia, of the famous family of the Cardonas upon a strong sturdy steed, and putting himself in the midst of either party, he made those of the City to retire; such was the respect, which they bore unto him. But some that were further off threw stones at those which were making to the water, & as ill luck would have it, one hit Marco Antonio full on the bosom, with such force & fury, that he fell there with in the water being already up therein to the knees. But Leocadia had scarce seen him fall, but she presently took hold of him and upheld him in her arms, and the like did Theodosia. Don Rafael was a little further off from them, defending himself from those showers of stones, which rained down about his ears. And being desirous to approach to his soul's remedy, and to hasten to the helping and relieving of his sister and brother in Law, this Catalunian Knight puts himself before him, and said unto him; Sir, I command you to be quiet by that duty which you owe to the profession of a good soldier, and do me the favour to go along with me by my side, and I will free you from the insolency and excess of this unruly rout. Good Sir (answered Don Rafael) I beseech you suffer me to pass on, for I see those things in great danger, which in this life I love most. The Knight permitted him to pass, but he came somewhat to late, for the boat belonging to the Captain Gally had before he came taken in Marco Antonio, and Leocadia, who would never let him go out of her arms; And Theodosia desiring to embark herself with them, whether it were that she were weary, or whether she were overcome with grief to see Marco Antonio wounded, or whether enraged with jealousy to see her great enemy to go along with him, she had neither power nor strength for to get into the boat, and doubtless had fallen down in a swoon into the water if her brother had not come in time to succour her; who felt no less pain and torment then his sister had felt, in seeing that Leocadia went away with Marco Antonio (for he likewise had taken notice of him, and knew him to be Marco Antonio.) The Catalunian Knight, being much affected and taken with the gentle presence of Don Rafael, and his brother (whom he took to be a man) called unto them from the Sea shore, entreating them that they would go along with him, and they being enforced by necessity, and being afraid lest the people, which were not pacified, might do them some wrong, they were willing to accept of the friendly offer he had made them. The Knight lighted off from his horse and taking them by his side, he passed with his naked sword through the midst of that tumultuous rout, entreating them to retire and so they did. Don Rafael looked round about on every side to see whether he could espy Calvete with their Mules but could not, for as soon as they had alighted he took hold on the Mules, and driving them before him went unto an Inn, where he had often heretofore lodged. The Knight came home to his own house, which was one of the chiefest in all the City, and demanding of Don Rafael in which of the Galleys he came, made answer, in none of them: But that he was newly come into the City in that very instant that this difference began, and for that he knew in that conflict the Gentleman whom they carried away hurt with a stone into the boat, he had put himself into that peril, and did therefore earnestly entreat him that he would be pleased to give order for the bringing of him on shore that was wounded, for thereon depended both his contentment and life. This shall I do with a very good will (replied the Knight) and I know the that General will not deny me this courtesy, but securely trust me with him: for he is a Gentleman of good rank and quality, and my near kinsman. And without further delaying the business, he returned back to the Galley where he found them very busy in curing Marco Antonio, and the wound he had received was very dangerous, because it was on the left side near the heart, and for that the Chirurgeon said it was dangerous, he prevailed so far forth with the General, that he gave him leave to take him along with him to cure him on land, and so putting him with great care and tenderness into the boat, they brought him thence, Leocadia as one that was loath to leave him, embarking herself with him, and following him, as the North-star of her hope. Being now landed on the shore, the Knight caused a hand-chaire to be brought from his house, wherein to carry him with the more ease. In the interim whilst this was in doing, Don Rafael had sent to seek out (alvete who was safe in his Inn, though very sad, and with a great deal of care, to know what was become of his Masters, and when he knew that they were well, he was exceeding glad, and came thither where Don Rafael was. Anon after came the Master of the house, Marco Antonio, and Leocadia, who all lodged therein, and were entertained with much love, and magnificence. And there was present order taken that a very famous Chirurgeon of that City should be sent for to take a new upon him the curing of Marco Antonio, He came, but would not meddle with him, till the day following, saying, That the Surgeons belonging to Armies and Fleets, were evermore well experienced men, by reason of the many hurt and wounded persons, which every foot they had under their hands, and therefore held it not convenient to enter upon the cure till the next day. That which he gave present order for was; that they should place him in a very warm lodging where they should let him take his rest. At that very instant came thither the Chirurgeon of the galley, and gave an account to that other of the City of the nature and quality of the hurt, and what he applied for the curing of it, and in what danger (to his seeming) his life was in, with which information he rested fully satisfied of that which he desired to know. And he himself (according to that relation which he had received) did exaggerate the danger wherein Marco Antonio was Leocadia and Theodosia heard this; with that grief and sorrow of heart: as if they had heard the sentence of their own deaths, but that they might no●… make show thereof, they did repress and silence it all they could for that time, yet had Leocadia resolved with herself to do that, which she thought fitting for the satisfaction of her honour. And this it was, as soon as ever the Surgeons were gone, she comes me into Marco Antonio's lodging, and before the Master of the house Don Rafael, Theodosia and divers other persons she made up to the bed's head of this wounded gentleman, and taking him fast by the hand, she spoke thus unto him, It is now no fit time (Signior Marco Antonio Adorno) being in that state wherein you now are, to spend many words with you, and therefore I shall only entreat you that you will lend your ear to those few which convene, if not to the health of your body, yet to that of your soul▪ And that I may speak them the more freely, it is needful that you give me your good leave, and licence, and that you will observe what I shall say unto you if you have a mind to hear me. For it should be contrary to all reason, that I having endeavoured from the very instant that I knew you, not to give you any distaste, but did all to your content and liking, that now at this present, for my last farewell, I should be the cause of giving you any the least grief or sorrow. At these words Marco Antonio opened his eyes and steadily fixed them on Leocadias' face, and having recollected himself, and taken her in a manner into his knowledge more by the Organ of her voice then by her countenance, with a weak and feeble voice, as one that was full of pain, he said unto her, say on Sir what you please for I am not yet so near my end, that I cannot listen unto you, neither is this voice of yours so harsh and unpleasing unto me, that it should cause any fastidiousness or loathing in me to hear it.  
To all this Dialogue Theodosia was most attentive, and every word that Leocadia uttered was a sharp Arrow that went athwart her heart, and wounded likewise the very soul of Don Rafael, who also heard her. And Leocadia prosecuting what she had begun, went on thus; if some blow on your head, or to speak more properly, if one greater hath not lighted on my soul, it could not (Semor Marco Antonio) beat out of your memory, the image of her, who not long since, you were wont to say was your glory, and your Heaven, you may very well call to your remembrance, who Leocadia was, and what was the word that you gave her signed in a Schedule with your own hand, nor can you be forgetful of the worth of her parents, the integrity of her retiredness and honesty, and of the obligation wherein you stand bound unto her, for having applied herself to your gust and liking in all whatsoever you desired. If you have not forgotten this, howbeit you see me in this so different a habit, you may easily know that I am Leocadia, who being fearful lest new accidents and new occasions should quit me of that which is so justly mine, as soon as I knew that you were gone out of the country, treading under foot and slighting all whatsoever (though never so infinite inconveniences,) I resolved with myself to follow after you in this habit, with intention to seek you out in all parts of the earth, till I had found you out, whereat you ought not to marvel, if yourself hath at any time felt the force of true Love, and the rage of a deceived woman. Some troubles I have passed in this my demand, all which I account well bestowed with that discount which they have brought with them, in making me so happy as to see you. And considering the case wherein you are, if that it shall please God to take you from this to a better life, by your doing that which you ought (as worthy yourself) before your departure out of this life, I shall think myself the happiest woman in the world: promising you to betake myself to such a course of life after your death, that but little time shall be spent therein, before I follow you in this your last and enforced journey. And therefore first of all I beseech you for the love you bear unto God, to whom my desires and intentions go directed; next, for your own sake, who oweth much to your quality, and therefore aught to be the same you are. And lastly, for my sake, to whom you owe more then to any other person in the world, that now presently you will receive me for your lawful spouse, not permitting that justice should enforce you to that, which with such and so many real obligations, reason ought to persuade you unto. And here Leocadia stopped the current of her speech, and said not a word more; and all they that were in the room were in a wonderfell still silence all the while that she talked with him, and with the same stillness and silenee they expected what answer Marco Antonio would make her, which was this.  
I cannot (Leocadia) deny my knowing of you, for your voice and countenance will not give me leave so to do. Neither can I deny how much I am bound unto you, nor the great worth of your noble parents, together with your own incomparable honesty, and retiredness, neither do I nor will I esteem you in less for that which you have done, in coming to seek me out in a habit so different from your own, but for this I do & shall ever esteem of you in the highest degree that may be imagined. But since that my time (you say) is now come, and that I likewise believe that this may be the last day of my life, and since that such kind of trances as these are the Chrysolls of truth, purifying the Gold from the dross, truth from falsehood; I will tell you a truth, which if it shall not be now pleasing unto you, it may be that hereafter it may turn to your good. I confess (fair Leocadia) that I loved you well, and so did you me; and likewise I confess that the schedule which I made you, was more to comply with your desire, than mine own▪ For many days before that I had signed it and set my hand thereunto, I had delivered up my will and my soul to a Damsel of the same place, where I live, whom you very well know. Her name is Theodosia, the daughter (be it spoken without disparagement) of as noble parents as yours are. And if I gave you a schedule firmed with my hand, I gave her my firmed hand, and accredited with such works and witnesses, that I remain impossibilited to give my liberty to any other person in the world. That which passed betwixt myself and Theodosia, was the obtaining of that fruit, which she could give me, and which I was willing she should give me, plighting my faith unto her that I would be (as truly I am) her husband And if at one and the same time I left both her and you, you suspensefull and deceived and she fearful, and (as she thought) robbed of her honour, I did therein unadvisedly and undescreetly, and (as a young man as I am) without any discourse or judgement. Thinking with myself that all those things of this nature, were but tricks of youth, and of little or no importance, and that I might do them without any scruple at all: Accompanied with other the like thoughts, which came then in my head, which did solicit me to do that which I did, which was to go for Italy, and to employ therein some few of my youthful years, and afterwards to return home, to see what was become of you and of my true Spouse. But heaven (as it should seem) being offended, and having complained of me to the highest power there, I verily believe that God hath permitted & given way to put me into that condition, wherein you see me, to the end that by confessing these truths, arising from my many sins, I may pay in this life that which I owe, and you remain dis-deceived and free being at your own liberty to do that which shall seem best in your eyes. And if at any time Theodosia shall come to have notice of my death; she shall know both by yourself and by these that are here present, how that at my death I complied with that promise which I made her in my life▪ And if in that little time of life (sweet Leocadia) which remaineth unto me, I may serve you in any thing, tell it me, I beseech you, and be it what it will be, I shall most willingly do it, so as it be not to take you to wife, for that I cannot do; no other thing shall I refuse for to give you content, that comes within my possibility to perform. Whilst that Marco Antonio went thus discoursing as you have heard, he rested his head all that while on his elbow, and having made an end of speaking he let his arm fall, giving some signs that he was ready to swoon. Don Rafael hastened presently unto him, and straight embracing him, said unto him; Sir, come again to yourself, be of good cheer, and embrace this your friend and your brother, since that it is your pleasure to have it so. Look up, and see if you know your companion and Chamber-fellow Don Rafael, who will be a true witness of your good will and affection, and of the grace and favour which you are willing to do his sister in admitting her to be yours. Marco Antonio came again to himself, and instantly knew Don Rafael, and embracing him in his arms, and kissing him on the cheek, said unto him; The great joy (dear brother) which I have received in seeing you can bring no less rebatement with it, then exceeding great sorrow. For as it is in the proverb, after joy comes sorrow. But I shall give it for well employed whatsoever shall befall me, in exchange of that great content which I have received in seeing you▪ Nay then (replied Don Rafael,) I will make it more complete, by presenting you with this jewel which is your beloved spouse. And looking out Theodosia he found her behind all the company, weeping, suspensive, and astonished, between grief and joy, as well for that which she saw as for that which she heard. Her brother took her by the hand, and she without making resistance, suffered herself to be carried whither he would lead her; which was to bring her to Marco Antonio, who knew her, and lovingly embraced her, both of them guttering down their cheeks tender and amorous tears. All that were in the room were strucken with admiration, in seeing so strange an accident. They looked one upon another without speaking one word, expecting what would be the issue of these things. But Leocadia, having lost her hopes, though found out the error, when she saw that with her own eyes, which Marco Antonio did, and saw her whom she took to be Don Rafaels' brother in his arms, whom she held to be her Husband, and together with this, seeing her desires mocked and her hopes lost, she stole out of all their sights, their eyes being earnestly bend in beholding that which the sick man did with the Page, whom he hugged so close in his arms. And being gone out of the room, she instantly made into the street, with intention to go, driven by despair, wand'ring through the world, or at least where none might see her. But scarce had she got into the street but Don Rafael began to miss her, and as if he had lost his soul he inquired after her; but no body could tell him which way she was gone. And so without any longer tarrying, like one that was desperate he went out to seek her, and hied him with all the haste he could thither, where he was told that Calvete lodged, lest she might happily have gone thither to procure a Mule to ride away; and not finding her there, he went like a mad man through the streets, searching after her, one while here, and another while there; and imagining that she might peradventure return back to the galley, he came to the Sea side, and a little before he came thither, he might hear one call aloud from the shore for the boat of the Captain galley, and he knew that the voice that called for it, was that of Leocadia, who being jealous of some ill intention towards her, hearing one coming behind at her heels, she laid her hand upon her Sword, and stood upon her guard until that Don Rafael drew nearer unto her, whom she presently knew, and it grieved her to the very heart that he had found her, and more particularly all alone in a place so far from all company, for she had perceived by more shows than one, which Don Rafael had made her, that he did not wish her ill, but so well that she would have taken it for a good recompense that Marco Antonio had loved her but half so well. With what words shall I now be able to express those, which Don Rafael uttered to Leocadia, opening his soul unto her? which were such & so many that I dare not take upon me to set them down, deserving a better pen than mine to give them their true life and lustre. But since necessity, and the nature of the subject now in hand, enforceth me to say something, the words, which amongst many other he delivered, were in effect these. If together with fortune which saileth me, there should now (fair Leocadia) be wanting unto me the courage and boldness of discovering the secrets of my soul, there would lie buried in the bosom of perpetual oblivion, the most enamoured and honestest affection that ever hath been, or can be bred in a faithful and loving breast. But that I may not wrong this my just desire, come what will come of it, I would have you to know (if your surprised thoughts will but give way to your judgement, and these your fits of passion, to your sounder discourse and reason) that in no one thing hath Marco Antonio any advantage of me, save only in this that he is your beloved. My lineage is as good as his, and in those goods which they call of Fortune, I am little inferior unto him; and for the gifts of nature it is not amiss that I should commend myself, and the rather if in your eyes they should not be esteemed. All this I purposely lay before you (my dear Lady and Mistress) to the end that laying aside your passion which blinds your understanding, you might take that remedy and means which fortune now offereth unto you in the utmost extremity, and height of your disgrace: You see already, that Marco Antonio cannot be yours, because heaven hath ordained him for my sister, and the same heaven which this very day hath robbed you of Marco Antonio, is willing to make you amends by me, who desireth no other happiness in this life, then to rende●… up myself unto you to be your husband. Behold and consider, that good success stands calling at the doors of that ill fortune, which hath hitherto followed you. Neither do you so much as once imagine, that the boldness and daringness which you have showed in seeking after Marco Antonio, shall any whit lessen the love I bear you, but I shall ever highly esteem of you, according to your merits and deserts, and as if there had never any affection passed between you. For, in that very hour wherein I desire and determine to equal myself with you, by making choice of you to be my perpetual Lady and Mistress, in that very hour, I will forget all, nay already have forgotten all whatsoever in this particular I have either seen or known. For I well wot that those forces which have enforced me to go thus roundly to work, and letting loose the reins to my desire, to dispose myself to the giving and delivering up of myself to be wholly yours, the very same have brought you to that estate wherein you are. And therefore you shall not need to seek out any excuse where there hath been no fault committed. Leocadia continued silent all the while that Don Rafael spoke unto her, save that now and then she would fetch deep sighs, which came from the very heart-roote of her. Don Rafael (taking his hint from this her heaviness) grew so bold with her as to take her by the hand, and she not having strength to resist it, kissing it again and again, repeating over that lessen often; after a little pausing, he said unto her; Mistress of my soul, make an end of being wholly mine, let us here make up this match between us in the sight of this starry Canopy of heaven which covers us, and of this calm and quiet Sea, which listeneth unto us, and of these bathed sands whereon we tread. Give me now your consent, sithence that without all doubt it conveneth as well for your honour, as it doth for my content. Take it once again into your consideration, that (as you know very well) I am a gentleman and rich, ●…d one that truly loves you, which is that which you ought most to esteem; and that in stead of finding yourself all alone, and in a habit which doth not suit so well with your honour, far from the house of your parents and kinsfolk, without any person to furnish you with that which should be needful for you, and without all hope of obtaining that which you so earnestly desired, you may return to your own Country in your own proper honest and true habit, accompanied with as good a husband, as that other whom you had formerly made choice of: you shall go home rich, contented, esteemed, and served, and also praised of all those, to whose knowledge shall come the various success of this your History.  
If this be so, as so it is, I know not what you should stick at, or what manner of doubt you can make to yourself. Once more therefore I say unto you, make an end of the business, come I say, and raise me from the ground of my misery, to the heaven of my deserving you, for in so doing you shall find a heaven for yourself, and comply with the laws of courtesy, and of thankfulness, showing yourself at one and the same instant both grateful and discreet. Go to then (said doubtful Leocadia) since that heaven hath so ordained it, and since that it is not in my hand, nor in that of any woman living, to oppose herself against that which it hath disposed and determined, let that (Sir) which it, and you will, be done. And heaven itself knows, with what shamefastness I come to condescend unto your will; not because I do not understand the great gain I make in obeying you, but because I am afraid that when you have had your will of me, ●…and enjoyed that which you now so much desire, you will look upon me with other eyes then peradventure you have hitherto, and repenting you of your bargain will complain that they deceived you. But be it as it may be, yet howsoever I am sure of this, that the name of being the lawful wife of Don Rafael de Villavicencio can never be lost, and with this Titl●…●…ly I will live contented. And if the carriage and behaviour which you shall see in me, after that I am yours, shall be a means to make you hold me in some esteem, I will give thanks unto heaven that hath brought me at last by, many strange turnings and windings so and by so many miseries to come to the happiness to be yours. Give me (Signior Don Rafael) that hand of yours to be mine, and lo here I give you mine to be yours. And let those serve for witnesses, which you so lately mentioned, the heavens, the Sea, the sands, and that still silence, only interrupted by my sighs and your entreaties. Having said this she suffered herself to be embraced, and gave him her hand, and Don Rafael in exchange gave her his, celebrating that nocturnal and new Nuptials with only the shedding of a few tears, which the joy and content thy took in despite of their forepast sorrow, had drawn from their eyes.  
This ceremony ended, they presently returned to the Knight's house, who was very sorry to see that they were missing, and no less were Marco Antonio, and Theodosia, who by the hand of a Priest were newly espoused, for at the earnest request and persuasion of Theodosia (to the end that some contrary accident might not trouble that good and happiness which she had found) the knight sent forthwith for one that should marry them out of hand. So that when Don Rafael and Leocadia came in together, and that Don Rafael had recounted unto them what had betided him with Leocadia it did in such sort augment their joy, as if the knight and the rest that were there had been of their nearest blood and kindred; for it is the natural condition, and proper to the inbred nobleness of the Cataluntans, to befriend and favour such strangers as in their necessities have occasion to use them. The Priest that was there present gave order that Leocadia should change her habit, and put on such clothes as suited with her sex, and the good Knight was not idle in putting thereunto his helping hand, appareling them with the richest clothes that his own wife had, who was a principal Lady of the lineage of the Granolleques, a famous and ancient family in that kingdom. The Chirurgeon (who out of charity had pity of him that was hurt, took notice how that he talked much and that they would not suffer him to be alone, that he might take some rest,) gave express order that they should leave him in silence, and say nothing unto him. But God who had so ordained it, using means and instruments for the accomplishing of his works, when in our eyes he will work some wonder, ordained that the excess of joy, and the little silence which Marco Antonio had kept was a great cause of his amendment, so that the next day when they dressed him they found that he was out of danger, and within fourteen days after he was so well and perfectly cured that without any fear he might safely travail, and undergo his journey. For I must give you to understand, that at that time as Marco Antonio kept his bed, he resolved to go on pilgrimage a foot to S. jago of Ga', licia, in performance of which promise Don Rafael, Leocadia, and Theodosia, would accompany him, and so also Calvete their Muleteer, a work very seldom used by men of their profession. But the goodness and plainness which he had found in Don Rafael obliged him not to leave him till that he were returned to his own country. And seeing that they were to go a foot like Pilgrims, he sent his Mules to Salamanca together with that which was Don Rafaels', for he could not want some by whom to send them. And now was the day come of their departure, & having accommodated themselves with their Knapsacks and all other necessaries they took their leave of that liberal Knight, who had done them so many favours, & had given them such royal entertainment, whose name was Don Sancho de Cardona, most noble in his blood, and as famous for his person; all of them offered their service unto him, and promised not only for themselves, but their decendents, to whom they would leave it in charge, perpetually to keep in memory those such singular received favours, that they might at least make a thankful acknowledgement, though they could not make him a sufficient and real requital. Don Sancho inbraced all of th●…m one after another, telling them that it grew from his natural condition, and was an imbred disposition that he had, to do those or other the like good offices, to those whom he knew, or imagined to be gentlemen of Castille. They did twice reiterate their embrace, & with joy, intermingled with some sense of sorrow, they took their farewell. And walking on their way with such commodity and conveniency, as the delicateness and tenderness of those two new Pilgrims would permit, in three days they came to Monserra●…e, and stayed there so many more; with the like leisure they went onward on their way, and without having any cross accident, or any mischance at all, they arrived at Saint Iago. And after that they had performed their vow, they would not unfrock themselves, nor leave off their Pilgrim's weeds, till they should enter into their own houses. To which they came by little and little, and though weary, yet well contented. But before that they came thither being in sight of Leocadias' dwelling which (as we formerly told you) was a league off from that of Theodosia, from the top of a high hill they might discern both their houses. But as they discovered these, so could they not cover those tears, which the contentment they took in seeing them, brought unto their eyes, at least to the two new brides, who with their sight renewed the remembrance of those sundry successes they had passed. They discovered likewise from that part of the hill where they stood, a large and spacious valley, which divided the two Lordships. Wherein they might see under the shade of an Olive tree, a tall lusty gentleman, mounted upon a square and strong limmed horse, with a white shield on his left arm, and a stiff and long Lance well pointed, in his right. And beholding him with attention, they might likewise perceive, that from among the said Olive trees, came two other gentlemen with the same arms, and with the self same grace and posture; and anon after they perceived that all three of them met together, & having stayed a little while together they went apart each from other, and one of those which came in last did go a pretty distance off from him, who stood first under the Olive tree, and putting Spurs to their horses, they encountered each other with manifest demonstrations of being mortal enemies, beginning to charge each other very bravely and nimbly with their Lances; sometimes avoiding the strokes by the shifting of their bodies, and sometimes by receiving them on their shields with such dexterity that they gave good proof that they were masters in that exercise. The third man stood still as a spectator looking on them without moving from his place. But Don Rafael being impatient of being so far off from them, beholding so well a maintained combat, running with all the speed he could down the hill, his sister and his Spouse following him, in a very little while he drew near unto the two combatants, even just then when as the two Gentletlemen were both of them (though but slightly) wounded; and one of their hats being fallen off, and together with it a burganet of steel that was under it, in the turning aside of his face Don Rafael knew that it was his father, and Marco Antonio likewise knew the other to be his. Leocadia, who had earnestly eyed him, who did not fight, knew him to be the father that begat her, with which sight all four were much amazed and astonished, and almost beside themselves. But this their sudden passion giving way to discourse, and reason, the two brother in laws without any more ado, presently made in, and putting themselves in the midst between those that fought, they cried out aloud unto them, saying, No more (gentlemen) no more, it is enough if not too much already, and therefore hold your hands, for they who crave and beg this of you, are your own sons. My Lord, and my father (said Marco Antonio) I am Marco Antonio; I am he for whom (by that which I imagine) these your venerable grey hairs are put to this rigorous straight. Bridle your fury, and throw away that Lance, or turn it against some other enemy, for he whom you have before you from this day forward▪ is to be your brother. To the like purpose spoke Don Rafael to his father, whereupon these gentlemen forbore to offend each other any further. And they than began to look more wissely on those that uttered these speeches, and turning their heads aside they perceived that Don Henrique the father of Leocadia, was alighted from his horse, and embraced him, whom he took to be a pilgrim. For no sooner had Leocadia come unto him, and made herself known unto him, but she besought him that he would go and make peace between those two that fought, recounting unto him in few words that Don Rafael was her husband, and that Marco Antonio was wedded to Theodosia. Her father hearing this, presently dismounted and embraced her▪ as we told you before. But leaving her, he hasted to atone the other two, though it needed not, being that already they had taken notice of their sons, and were alighted from their horses, and most lovingly embraced them, all of them shedding tears, springing out of those two fountains of Love and joy.. They were all close combined, standing together as it were in a Ring, and began a new to look on their sons, and knew not what to say. They did touch their bodies with their hands to try whether they were fantastic bodies, and walking spirits. For their sudden and unexpected coming upon them bred this, and other the like suspicions and jealousies; But being soon dis-deceived, and quickly put out of his error, they returned afresh to their tears and embracements. And whilst this was in doing, there appeared to their view in the said Valley a great number of armed men both on foot and horseback, which came to side with their several Lords, and to abet and maintain their quarrel. But when they came and saw them embracing those Pilgrims, and tears standing in their eyes, they alighted and wondering what this should mean, they stood like men amazed, until such time as Don Henrique briefly delivered unto them that, which his daughter Lecc●…dia had recounted to himself. Hereupon all of them went to embrace these Pilgrims with such shows and tokens of content, as cannot be enough endeared. Don Rafael he likewise related unto them with that brevity as the time required, all the whole success of his love, and how he came to be married to Leocadia, and his sister Theodosia to Marco Antonio; his father there offering to celebrate these their Nuptials at his house. And this being agreed upon they broke up and departed. And some of them that were there present, hasted away before to ask Albricias of the kinsfolk and friends of those married couples. Don Rafael and Marco Antonio in their way homewards, as they went talking along, came to know the cause of this their strife and difference; which was as you shall hear. The fathers of Theodosia and Leocadia had challenged Marco Antonio's father, charging him that he was consenting and privy to these deceits of his son. And both of them being come into the field, and finding him all alone, without any second, they would not fight with him upon that odds and advantage but singly one to one, as became gentlemen to do; which quarrel must have ended in the death of one or both, if they had not come in so luckily as they did. The four Pilgrims rendered thanks unto God for this happy success. And so the next day after their arrival, with royal and splendide magnificence, and sumptuous expense, the father of Marco Antonio solemnised the Nuptials of his son and Theodosia, and those of Don Rafael and Leocadia; who lived many and happy years in the company of their dear beloved wives, leaving behind them a noble stock and descent from father to son, which continueth even to this day in those two places which are numbered amongst the best of Andaluzia. And if I do not name them here unto you, it is for that I desire to keep good decorum with those two Damsels, whom peradventure tongues either wickedly malicious, or foolishly scrupulous might tax of lightness in their desires, and that sudden changing of their habits. Whom I shall entreat that they will not go about to blame such the like liberties and exercises, till they look back into themselves and examine their own hearts, whether they have not at one time or other been touched with Cupid's arrows; for Love is in effect a force, (pardon the exorbitancy of the word) that is unresistable, so strong a war is that, which the appetite wageth against reason. Calvete the Muletere rested well contented with the reward Don Rafael sent him home to Salamanca, and many other gifts bestowed on him by the rest of those that were newly married. And the Poets of those times took occasion for the employing of their pens, in extolling the beauty and exaggerating the success of those two adventurous, but most honest Damsels, being the principal subject of this strange story.  
The end of the first Book.   

THE LADY CORNELIA.  
THE SECOND BOOK.  
Done Antonio de Ysunca, and Don juan de Gamboa, principal Gentlemen, both of one age, very discreet and great friends, being students in Salamanca, resolved to leave their studies and to go for Flanders, carried thither by the heat of their youthful blood, and by the desire, which they had (as we usually say) to see the world. And because it seemed unto them, that the exercise of Arms though it suiteth well with all, yet it hath its principal seat and residence, and in much better sorteth with those that are well borne, and of noble blood.  
They came then to Flanders, but at such a time, that things were in peace and quietness, or upon treaty and agreement of being quickly so settled. They received in Antwer●…e Letters from their fathers, wherein they writ, and signified unto them the great displeasure and discontentment which they had received, for that they had left their studies without advising them thereof, to the end that they might have come so fitted and accommodated for Flanders, as their birth and quality required.  
In conclusion they knowing how this course of theirs grieved their parents, determined to return back again to Spain, since that they saw there was nothing for them to do in Flanders. Yet before they would return, they were very desirous to see all the famousest Cities of Italy, and having seen all of them, they ●…etled themselves in Bolonia, and admiring the studies of that famous University, they were willing therein to prosecute theirs. They gave notice of their intention to their fathers, who were wonderfully glad of it, and they expressed how well they were pleased therewith by magnificently providing for them, and in such a noble manner that they might show in their fashion and carriage, who they were, and of what house they came. And from the very first day that they visited the schools, all took notice of them, and acknowledged them to be gallant, discreet, and well bred gentlemen.  
Don Antonio might be about some twenty four years of age, and Don juan not above twenty six, and they did adrone this good age of theirs, by being very brave Gentlemen, good Musicians, better Poets, and very active, and valiant parts that procured them much love, and made the best wishes of all those that conversed with them to wait upon them.  
They had in a very short time won unto them many friends, as well Spanish students (there being very many of them commonly in that University) as also of those of that City, and of strangers. They showed themselves towards all liberal and bountiful, kind, and loving, and far from that pride and arrogancy (an ordinary fault) whereof the Spaniards generally use to be taxed. And for that they were young men and full of jollity and jocunda●…inesse, 〈◊〉 ●…as not unpleasing unto them to take notice of the best beauties of that City; and albeit there were many Gentlewomen both maidens and married wives, that had a good report of being both fair and honest, yet above all, the Lady Cornelia Bentivogli bore the bell, being of the ancient and noble family of the Bentivoglis, who were sometimes Lords of Bolonia.  
Cornelia was extremely fair and beautiful, and was under the guard and protection of Lorenzo Bentivogli her brother a most honourable and valiant gentleman, being both fatherless and motherless. And although they left them thus all alone, yet did they leave them exceeding rich. And riches to Orphaneship, is a great ease and comfort, so great was Cornelia's retiredness, and so great her brother's care and solicitude in guarding her, that she neither suffered herself to be seen, nor would her brother permit that any should see her.  
This fame and report of her rare beauty made Don juan, and Don Antonio very desirous to have a sight of her. But the labour they took therein was lost and all in vain, and their desire by reason of the impossibility of obtaining, had in such sort cut off all hope thereof, that it went by degrees decreasing and diminishing. And therefore being now wholly taken up with the love of their studies, and with the entertainment of some honest recreations of youth, they led an honest and merry life together; they seldom rambled abroad in the night▪ and when they did, they went both together well armed.  
It afterwards so fell out, that being to go forth one night Don Antonio told Don juan that he would stay a while, but would have him to go, promising that he would presently follow him. That shall not need (replied Don juan) for I will stay for you; and if we should not go abroad this night the matter is not great. No, as you love me (said Don Antonio) get you gone and take the air for I▪ will be instantly with you, if you walk that round, which we use to do. Do what you think good, (answered Don juan) fare you well, and if you shall walk ●…orth, I will go the same stations this night as I did the last; Don juan went his way, and Don Antonio stayed behind.  
The night was somewhat dark and dusky, and the hour eleven, and having gone through two, or three streets, and seeing himself all alone, and that he had no body with whom to talk and converse, he resolved with himself to return home, and putting it in execution passing through a street, which had a walking place built upon Pillars of marble, he might hear from a certain door that some did whist unto him with a soft and low voice. The darkness of the night, which was made the more by means of that close walk, would not let him guess and conjecture whence that whisting directly came. Whereupon he stood still a while, attentively listening whence it should come, and whilst he was thus busied, he might see a door half way open itself; He drew near thereunto, and might hear a low voice which spoke thus. Is it Fabio? Don juan answered, yes. Then take this (replied they within) and have a care to have it safely kept, and return hither presently again, for it much importeth us. Don juan puts forth his hand, and felt a bulk, he knew not what, and thinking to take it with one of his hands, he found that he had need to use both, and they had scarce put it into his hands, but they shut the door upon him, and left him▪ And he went his way & found himself in the street with his hands full, but knew not what burden he bore. But within a little while after he heard a babe begin to cry, which it should seem had been but newly borne. Whereat Don juan remained amazed and suspensive, not knowing what he should do, or what course to take in this strange case. For to return back to the door, and call there unto them, he considered with himself, that he might run some danger for the babes sake, having personated another man to whom it was intended, and in leaving it there at the door, the babe might have its life hazarded. And to carry it home to his own house he had not any one there that could give it the teat, and those other helps that were needful, nor did he know in all the City any body whither he might carry it. But sithence that they had said unto him that he should see it safe and return again presently he determined to carry it to his own house, and to leave it in the power and custody of a woman that served them, and to return forthwith to see whether or no they had any further need of his service, since that he plainly perceived that they had taken him for another, and that it was a mere mistake in giving the babe unto him.  
In conclusion, without making any further discourses, he came home with it to his house, when as Don Antonio was not there. He entered into one of the rooms next at hand, and called his woman servant unto him, and caused her to unswathe the babe, and found it to be one of the fairest creatures that ever they had seen. The clothes wherein it was leapt, told that it came of rich and noble parents. When the woman had unswathed and opened it, they saw that it was a man child. Then said Don juan to his woman, we must needs get one to give this child suck; but first of all I would have you take away these rich Mantles, and lay them aside in some safe place, and to put and wrap it in others more mean and humble. And without making it known, that I brought it hither you shall carry it to the house of some one Midwife or other, for such kind of women are never commonly unprovided of necessary remedy in such like necessities, you shall take money along with you, wherewith she may remain satisfied and contented, and you shall give it such parents, as you yourself shall think fit, for the better covering of the truth of my bringing it hither. His woman made answer, all should be done as he had ordered it.  
This business was no sooner put into so good a way, but that Don juan with all the haste he could returned to see whether they would whist once more unto him; but a little before that he came to the said house where they had called unto him, he might hear a great clashing of swords, as if many had been together by the ears slashing one another. He stood listening a while, but could not hear any one word pass between them. This hammering of Iron was in the dark, save only that by the light of those sparks which the stones wounded by their swords, raised, he had a glimpse that there were many that had set upon one, and he was confirmed in this truth by hearing that one say; O traitors, though ye be many and I but a single man, yet shall not your overmatching me in number make you prevail in your purpose.  
Which Don juan hearing and seeing▪ transported by his valiant heart, at two leaps, he made into the side of him that was assaulted, and taking his sword in one hand, and his buckler which he brought along with him in the other, he said unto him that defended himself, in the Italian tongue, that he might not be known to be a Spaniard. Fear you nothing (Sir) for such succour is now come to you, as shall not fail you till his life fail. Bestir yourself, and set yourself roundly to them; for traitors though they be many, are able to do but little. To these words replied one of the adverse part; thou liest in thy throat, for here is no traitor; but for the recovering of a man's lost honour, it is lawful to take this, or any other advantage whatsoever.  
There passed no more words between them, because the haste which they made to offend and wound their enemies, would not give them leave to talk, who were (to Don juans seeming) some six of them. They did press so hard upon his companion, that at two home thrusts which they made at him at once full in his breast, they▪ laid him flat on the ground. Don juan thought that they had killed him, and with strange nimbleness and valour he bestirred him, and set upon them all, whom he made to give ground by the force of a shower which he rained down upon them of blows and thrusts.  
But all his diligence had not been able for to offend them, and defend himself, if good fortune had not offered him her aid, by causing the neighbours thereabouts in that street to open their windows and come forth with lights, and to call out aloud to the justice.. Which they of the contrary part perceiving, forsook the street, and turning their backs, went their way.  
Now by this time he that was fallen had got up again, for those Stoca●…os and thrusts that were made at him, lighted on a privy coat which he had, that was as hard and impenetrable as if it had been a rock of Diamonds. Don juan in this fray had let fall his hat, and seeking for it, in stead of his own, lighted by chance on another, which he clapped on his head without looking whether it were his own or no.  
His fellow that was fallen, came unto him, and said, Sir whosoever you be▪ I confess that I am indebted to you for my life, the which with all that my estate besides can reach unto, I will spend in your service. Let me entreat you to do me the favour to tell me who you are, and what is your name, to the end that I may know to whom I owe so much that I may manifest my thankfulness.  
Whereunto replied Don juan, I will not (Sir) seeing myself now disinteressed, be discourteous with you. To comply therefore with your desire, and to fulfil your pleasure, I shall only tell you that I am a gentleman, a Spaniard, and a student in this University, if the knowing of my name may any whit import you, I shall tell it you. But if happily you shall be pleased in any other thing to make use of my service, I would then (Sir) have you to know, that my name is Don juan de Gamboa▪  
You have done me a great favour herein replied he that was fallen. But I (Signior Don juan de Gamboa) will not tell you who I am, nor my name, because I am willing you should rather know it from another than myself, and I will take care, that both shall be made known unto you.  
Don juan had but a little before asked of him, whether or no he had not received some hurt, because he saw that they had given him two great stocadas; whereunto he answered, that the goodness of his privy coat next under God had defended him. But that yet notwithstanding his enemies had made an end of him, if he had not stuck so close unto him.  
By this time there came towards them a company of people more in number then those they had before to do withal; whereupon Don juan said, if these be those our enemies, stand (Sir) upon your guard, and behave yourself like yourself. I believe (replied the other) that they are not enemies but friends which make towards us. And it was so indeed. For they that came, were in all eight persons who compassed him round that was fallen, and whispered some few words in his ear but they were so soft and so secret, that Don juan could not hear them.  
The party defended turned presently aside from them to Don juan, and said unto him, had not these my friends come in unto me, I would by no means (Signior Don juan) have left you, till you had finished this your well begun work by setting me in some place of safety. But now with all the indearingnesse that I can, I shall entreat you that you will leave me, for it much importeth me, that you yield to my request. Having said this, he put his hand to his head, and found that he was without a hat, and turning himself to those that came to him, he spoke unto them to give him a hat, for his own was in fight fall'n from him. He had scarce spoke the word, but that Don juan put that which he had found upon his head. He that fell felt it with his hand, and returning it to Don juan said unto him▪ this hat is none of mine. As you love me, (Don juan) take it, and carry it away with you as a Trophy of this skirmish, and keep it well, for I believe it is known. They gave him another hat, and Don juan for to comply with that which he had entreated of him, interchanging some other but short compliments, he left him, not knowing who he was, and came home to his own house, without offering to go to that door, where they had given him the babe, because he perceived that all the whole street was up, being awakened out of their sleep, and in a kind of tumult and uproar by reason of this quarrel.  
It so then happened that in his returning to his lodging he met in the mid way with Don Antonio de Ysunca his Comrade, and knowing him, Don Antonio said, return with me (Don juan) a little up this way, and as we walk along, I shall recount unto you a strange story which hath befallen me; and I believe in all your life you never heard such passages as I shall now acquaint you with. Whereunto Don juan replied, come let us go whither you will, and tell me this your strange story. Don Antonio led the way and said.  
You shall understand that little more than an hour after that you were gone out of the house, I went forth to seek you, and not 30. paces from this place I saw coming as it were to meet me, the black bulk of some person, which came in great haste, and the party approaching nearer unto me, I knew it was a woman clad in a long habit, who with a voice interrupted with sighs and sobs, said unto me; are you (Sir) a stranger or one of the City? I replied, a stranger and a Spaniard; Are you wounded (Lady) or do you bear about you some evil presages of death? It may be (quoth she) that the evil I bring with me, will be my death if I have not speedy remedy. By that courtesy which is always wont to reign in those of your Nation, I beseech you (noble Spaniard) that you will take me out of these streets and bring me to your lodging with the greatest speed you can, and there if it please you, you shall know the evil I bear about me, and who I am, though it be to the cost of my credit.  
Hearing her say so, it seeming unto me, that she had need of that which she desired, without making any reply, I took her by the arm, and through by lanes, brought her to my lodging. Santistevan the Page opened me the door, I willed him to withdraw himself, and so without his seeing of her, I conducted her to my chamber. Whereinto she was no sooner entered, but she threw herself on my bed, and fell suddenly into a swoon; I drew near unto her and uncovered her face which she had covered with her mantle, and discovered therein the greatest beauty, that humane eyes had ever seen; she might be to my seeming about some eighteen years of age, rather under then over. I stood a while amazed at the beholding of such rare and singular beauty. But calling myself to remembrance I hastened to sprinkle a little water on her face, wherewith she came to herself, tenderly sighing. And the first word that she spoke unto me was; Do you know me Sir? No (quoth I) nor is it fitting that I should have had the happiness to have known so much beauty. O unhappy is that beauty (said she) which heaven bestows upon some for their greater misfortune. But this (gentle Sir) is no time to commend beauty but to remedy mischiefs, I shall therefore entreat you by that worth and nobleness that is in you, that you will leave me here shut up, and suffer none to see me, and that you will presently return to the same place where you met with me, and see if there be any maintaining a quarrel each with other: Side (I beseech you) with neither part, nor favour any of those that you find in this duel, but seek to make peace between them, for whatsoever hurt shall light on either side, it will help to make mine the gaeater. I left her shut up, and am going to see if I can end this difference and make them friends.  
Have you any more to say, Don Antonio? (said Don juan) Why do not you think that I have said enough (replied Don Antonio) since that I have told you, that I have under lock and key in my Chamber, the greatest beauty which humane eyes ever saw? Doubtless it is a strange case, (answered Don juan▪) but now I pray hearken what betided me. And presently he related unto him all the whole success of his business, and how that the babe, which they had given him w●…s at home in the house in the custody and keeping of his shee-servant, and the oder that he had left with her for the changing of those rich into poor Mantles, and to carry him to some Nurse that might breed him up, or at least to relieve this its present necessity by giving it suck: and he signified further unto him, that the difference, which he came to inquire after was ended, & that all was well and quiet, & how that he himself was in that quarrel, and that all those (as he did imagine) who were in that bickering were gentlemen of great both quality & valour. They both did bless themselves, and did wonder and admire at each others fortune, & so made all the haste they could to return home, for to see what the locked up Lady had need of.  
In their way homeward Don Antonio told Don juan, that he had promised that gentlewoman that none should see her, nor come into that Chamber save only himself, since that there was not any one thing, wherein he could do her a greater courtesy. ●…ush that's nothing (said Don juan) I will not want some one devise or other for to have a sight of her, for already I long extremely to see her▪ you having given such extraordinary commendation of her beauty.  
Whilst they were thus discoursing on the business, and (by the light which one of those their Pages brought) Don Antonio by chance casting his eyes on the hat which Don juan wore, he saw how it did gli●…er & shine with diamonds. He took it off from his head, & saw, that those sparkling lights beamed forth their rays from their fellows which were curiously ranked in an exceeding rich hatband. They both of them looked again and again upon it, and having well viewed it, they concluded that if they were all fine and perfect, as they appeared to be, they could not be less worth than twelve or thirteen thousand ducats. By this they certainly knew that they in this quarrel were persons of principal note and quality, especially he that was succoured by Don juan who (as he well remembered) told him that he should take the hat with him and keep it, because it was known.  
They commanded their pages to withdraw, they did so; then Don Antonio opened the door to his chamber, and found the Lady sitting on the bed, leaning her cheek on her hand, trilling down tender tears.  
Don juan, out of the desire which he had to see her, made a shift to put his head half way within the door, which he had no sooner done, but in that very instant the glittering of the Diamonds shined on those eyes which rained down soft showers of tears, and lifting them up, she said come in (my Lord Duke) come in, why will you give me with so sparing a hand the riches of your presence.  
Hereunto (replied Don Antonio) here Lady is no Duke that need to excuse himself for his not seeing of you. How (said she) no Duke? he that did peep in at the door even now is the Duke of Ferrara, whom the richness of his hat cannot conceal from me. Truly (Lady) I can assure you, that the hat which you saw, no Duke wears it, and if you are willing to be put out of your error, give him leave that wears it to come in: With all my heart (said she) let him come in, though if he should not prove to be the Duke, my sorrows and misfortunes will be the greater. All these words Don juan heard, and seeing that he had leave given him to enter, with his hat in his hand he came into the Chamber; and as soon as he had thus presented himself before her, she presently knew that he who had this rich hat was not the person she took him to be. And therefore with a troubled voice, but with a quick and nimble tongue she said unto him.  
O unhappy, O miserable that I am▪ Tell me (Sir) I beseech you, and that instantly without holding me any longer in suspense, whether or no you do know the mast●… and true owner of this hat? where you left him? and how▪ you came by it? is he happily alive? Or is this the news which he sends me of his death? O my dearest good▪ what strange successes are these? Is it possible that I should see thy pledges here, and yet see myself without thee sh●… up in a chamber, and in the power of I know not what Spanish gentlemen? O the fear of losing my honesty, would it would quit me of my life! Patiented yourself (Madam) said Don juan. For neither is the owner of this hat dead, neither are you in such hands that you shall receive any the least wrong in the world, but shall be ready to serve you, as far forth as their force and strength can reach, even to the laying down of their lives for to defend and protect you. For it is not meet, that that faith of yours should prove vain, which you have of the Spaniards goodness. And since that we are of that nation and principal men in our country, (for here and on this occasion, that may well now become me to say, which elsewhere might be accounted arrogancy) be confident (Lady) and rest you right well assured, that that decorum towards you shall be kept and observed, which your noble and graceful presence deserveth.  
I believe (replied she) no less, but notwithstanding I pray Sir tell me, how this rich hat came into your possession? Or where is its master who besides his other titles is Alfonso de Este, Duke of Ferrara?  
Then Don juan, that he might not hold her further in suspense, recounted unto her how that he found one in a quarrel, & that himself took part with a gentleman who in all likelihood, by that which he had gathered from her speeches, must be the Duke of Ferrara. And that in the fray he had lost his hat, as I likewise had mine, and by chance lighted on this in stead of mine own; and that the said gentleman when I offered it unto him, he wa●…ing a hat (not knowing then whether it was his or mine own▪ for it was dark) entreated me to keep it, for it was a hat that was well known, and that the quarrel was ended without the gentleman's receiving any hurt or himself: And that after all was ended there came in some company which to his seeming were either the servants or friends of him, whom he imagined to be the Duke, who besought me that I would leave him, and so we parted, he showing himself very thankful for the assistance which I had given him. So that (sweet Lady) this rich hat came into my power just in the same manner as I have delivered unto you, and its owner (if it be the Duke as you speak him to be) it is not a full hour since I left him safe and sound. Let this truth suffice in part for your comfort (if he be the man we both pitch upon) that you know the Duke is well.  
To the end (gentlemen) that ye likewise may know whether I have reason or good cause or no, for to inquire after him; be attentive, and listen unto me, and you shall hear (I know not what other name I may give it) my sad and unfortunate History.  
All the while that this passed, their she servant entertained herself in feeding the babe with honey and in changing those his rich into poor mantles. And now that she had quite made an end of dressing it, she was going to carry it to the house of some Midwife as Don juan willed her. And passing with the babe close by the Chamber where she was, who was about to begin her promised History, the poor little thing cried, and so strongly that the Lady heard it, and starting upon her feet, she did attentively listen thereunto, and heard the cry more distinctly and said, Gentlemen, what creature is that which seemeth to be but newly borne? it is a child (said Don juan) which this night was laid at our door, and she that looks to our house, is going to seek out one that may give it suck. For God's sake bring it hither to me (said the Lady) for I will do this charitable office for other folk's children, since heaven will not let me do it to mine own.  
Don juan called in the woman, and took the child from her, and to satisfy her desire, put the babe into her arms; saying withal, you see (Lady) the present that hath this night been bestowed upon us. And this is no news, for few months go over our heads, but that we find at our doors such kind of unlooked for commodities.  
She took the babe into her arms, and she looked wissely as well on his face, as on those poor, though clean clothes, wherein it was wrapped, and presently without being able to refrain weeping, the tender tears trickling down her cheeks, she threw the veil that covered her head over her breasts, that she might with the more modesty give the babe suck, and applying it to her breast she joined her face to his, and did feed it with her milk, and bathe the face of it with her tears. And in this manner she continued without lifting up hers so long as the child did not leave the teat.  
In the interim, all four of them remained silent. The child sucked indeed, but drew no milk, for they that are newly delivered, cannot presently give the breast. And so she falling into the reckoning what little or no sustenance she gave it, she returned the babe to Don juan, saying, in vain have I have I showed myself charitable, I seem to be but a Novice in these cases. I pray (Sir) give order that this child have his palate moistened with a little honey, and by no means give way that it be carried out in the open air at this time of night through the streets, let it be day first, and before that it be carried hence, bring it once more again unto me, for I take great comfort in looking upon it.  
Don juan returned the babe to the woman, and gave order that she should entertain the time with the child till it were day, and that dressing it up as neatly and handsomely as she could, she should put thereon those ric●… Mantles, wherein he brought it thither, and that she should not bring the babe unto him, till he first called for it. This done, coming again into the Chamber, and they three being all alone, this fair Lady said unto them.  
Gentlemen, if you will have me to speak, give me first something to eat, for I feel myself begin to faint, and not without cause, considering the manifold occasions of my grief. Don Antonio ran presently to his Cabinet, and took forth sundry sorts of Conserves, and other sweetmeats, whereof this fainting Lady did eat some, wherewith she came to herself, having drank a draught of cold water after them, and being now somewhat quieted and of better cheer and comfort, she saved, sit down (Gentlemen) and harken unto me. They did so; And she raising herself up on the bed, sitting thereon upright and covering her feet well with the skirts of her clothes, she let fall on her shoulders a veil which she beware on her head, leaving her face bare and open, representing the Moon in its clearness, or rather the Sun when it shineth brightest. Liquid pearls did distil down from her eyes, which she wiped away with a most pure white Handkerchief and with such hands, that between them and the linen, he must have a good discerning judgement that could distinguish and difference their snowy whiteness. In fine, after that she had vented many sighs, and after that she had procured the easing somewhat of her breast, with somewhat a sorrowful and troubled voice, she spoke thus.  
Gentlemen, I am she whom doubdesse you have often heard named in this City, because there are very few ●…ongues which have not published the same of my beauty such as it is. In a word I am Cornelia Bentivogli, sister to Lorenzo Bentivogli, and in saying this, I shall happily have said two truths. The one of my nobleness of birth, the other of my beauty. Being very young I was le●…t fatherless and motherless, in the power of my brother, who from my childhood put upon me for my guard wariness and circumspection itself; though that he did more rely upon my honest and honourable condition, then on that solicitude and heedfulness, which he had taken in guarding me. In conclusion, confined within walls and solitudes, accompanied with no other save my maide-servants, I went increasing in years and growth, and together with me, went increasing the fame of my properness of person, beauty and comeliness, proclaimed in public by some of my men servants, and by those who privately treated with me, and by a picture which my brother caused to be drawn by a famous Painter to the end, that, (as he said) the world should not remain without me, if heaven should take me here to a better life. But all this had been but the least part of hastening my perdition, had not the Duke of Ferrara come to a Kinswomans' wedding of mine, being invited to do her the honour to give her in Church, whither my brother carried me with a good intention, and for to grace this my kinswoman. There I saw and was seen; there I conceive I took hearts captive, and made them do vassalage and homage to my will; There I perceived that I was well pleased with their praises, though they were given me by flattering tongues; there, lastly, I saw the Duke, and he saw me; from which interview I am now brought to see myself in that state, wherein you now see I am.  
I will not (gentlemen) relate unto you (for that were but to make my discourse infinite) the devices, the plots, and the means, whereby the Duke and myself came at the end of two years, to obtain those desires, which had their birth at the wedding. For neither guardings nor watchings, nor brotherly admonitions, nor any other humane dilligences were sufficient for to hinder our secret meetings, and enjoying each other. But before I would yield unto his pleasure, he gave me his faithful word and promise for to marry me, and make me his wife, for without this plighting of his troth unto me, it had been impossible for him to have made me render and yield up the fort of my virginity upon dishonourable terms.  
I spoke unto him a thousand times and more, that he would move my brother in public for me, being that it was not possible, that he would deny him me, and that the Duke needed not to excuse himself to the vulgar, if they should chance to tax him with the inequality and disparity of the marriage, as somewhat to mean for him, since that the nobleness of the Lineage of the Bentivoglis, was no whit inferior to that of the house of Este.  
To this proposition of mine he answered me with excuses, entreating me that I would approve of them, as sufficient, and necessary, and I giving credit unto them (having already rendered up myself unto him) I did as one that was in love, believe the best, and pressed him no further; but submitted my will wholly unto his, at the intercession of a maide-servant of mine, who by the Duke's large gifts and promises, was as pliable as wax, not regarding (as she ought to have done) the truth and confidence which my brother had of her fidelity.  
In conclusion, within a few days after I found myself with child, and before that my clothes should manifest my liberties (that I may not give it any other name) I feigned myself sick and melancholy, and wrought my brother to bring me to that my kinswomans' house, whom the Duke gave in marriage.  
There did I make known in what case I was, the danger that did threaten me, and the small assurance that I had of my life, because I was jealous that my brother suspected my looseness; it was agreed upon between the Duke & myself, that when I was upon my last month I should advise him of it, and that he with other of his friends would come for me, and carry me with him to Ferrara, where in the time by him expected he would marry me in public.  
This very night was that concluded on for his coming, and this very night waiting and looking for him, I heard my brother pass by with many other men to my seeming armed by the clattering of their arms, by reason of which sudden & unexpected fear, passion prevailed so far with me that my throws came upon me, and instantly brought forth a fair son. That maid-servant of mine, who was privy to my actions, and the Duke's solicitress, seeing herself now prevented by this sudden chance wrapped the babe in other clothes then those the child had, which was laid at your door. And going to the door that opened to the street she gave it (as she told me) to a servant of the Dukes. I within a little while after accommodating myself the best I could, according to my present necessity, got me out of the house, verily believing that the Duke was in the street, which indeed I ought not to have done till he had come to the door. But the fear which that armed troop of my brother had put me into, thinking that he was now brandishing his sword over my neck, it did not give me leave to make any better discourse, and so unadvisedly and foolishly I went forth, where that has befallen me which you now see. And albeit I see myself without a son, & without a husband, and with fear of worse success, yet do I give thanks unto heaven for having brought me into your hands, from which I promise all that unto myself which Spanish courtesy can promise me, & more particularly yours, which for that you are so noble as you seem to be, you know the better how, and where to extend it.  
Having said this she suffered herself to sink down from the top of the bed, and the two gentlemen drawing near unto her, to see whether she were fainting and falling into a swound, they saw it was not so, but only that she wept bitterly. Whereupon Don juan said unto her.  
If hitherto (fair Lady) myself and Don Antonio my friend and companion, have had compassion of you, and pitied your case, as you were a woman, now that we know your quality, that pity and compassion comes to be a precise obligation, binding us to serve you. Be of good cheer, be not dismayed, and though you have not been accustomed to such like chances; yet shall you by so much the more show who you are by how much the more patiently you shall bear your misfortunes. Believe me (Madam) I am of the mind that these such strange successes will have a happy end, for the heavens will never permit that so much beauty should be ill enjoyed, and such honest thoughts so ill rewarded. Betake yourself (Lady) to your rest, and have a care of your person, for it is no more than needeth, and here shall a woman servant of ours come in to serve you, and wait upon you, of whom you may be as confident as you are of us, she likewise knows as well how to silence your misfortunes, as she doth to assist you in these your necessities. Such a one I take her to be, that I dare be bold to say that she will adventure to wade through all difficulties that you shall put her to.  
She made answer, let her (Sir) since you will have it so, come in; for being tendered to me by so good a hand as yours, I cannot but hold her to be very useful in all that, wherein I shall have occasion to employ her. But I beseech you (Sir) let none more than this good woman see me. On my word (replied Don Antonio) there shall not.  
And so leaving her alone, they went out▪ And Don juan went unto the woman, and willed her to go in, and that she should carry in along with her the babe in its rich clothes, if she had put them on, the woman told him that she had, and that it was now dressed just in the same manner as he brought it thither. The woman came in, being advertised before hand what she should answer unto that, which touching that creature, the Lady which she should find there within should ask her.  
As soon as Cornelia saw her, she said unto her; welcome my friend; give me I pray thee this pretty creature and bring hither this light, she did so. And Cornelia taking the babe in her arms, she was mightily troubled, and looked very wissely and steadily on it, and said to the woman; tell me truly, this child and that which was brought me a little while since is it one and the same? yes (Madam) answered the woman; how then comes it to pass that the Mantles are thus changed? (replied Cornelia.) Indeed (my friend) I conceive either that these are other Mantles, or that this is not the same creature. All this may very well be, said the woman. Very well be, (said Cornelia) how may that be? O good woman how my heart doth beat and is ready to break through my breast, and will never leave beating till I know this change of clothes. Tell me, I conjure thee (my friend) by all that which thou lovest best, by that which is nearest and dearest unto thee, tell me I say, whence hast thou these rich mantles? for I must let thee know that they are mine if my sight do not deceive me, or my memory fail me. With these very same, or with others like unto them, I delivered my maid the beloved pledge of my soul. Who took them away? (O wretched that I am!) and who brought them hither? Ay me most unfortunate!  
Don juan and Don Antonio, who heard all these complaints were not willing that she should proceed any further in them, neither would they permit that the error and deceit of changing the Mantles, should hold her in further pain and suspense, and therefore they entered in, and Don juan said unto her.  
These Mantles and this child (Lady Cornelia) are both yours. And presently pointby point, he recounted unto her that he was the man to whom the maid had given the child; and how he brought him home to this his house, and gave the woman order for the changing of the Mantles, and the reason and occasion why he did it. Howbeit, after that she had acquainted him with her delivery, he did certainly assure himself that it was her son, and that if he had not told her so before, it was because that her sudden passion of being in doubt of knowing him might be recompensed with the supervening joy of knowing him.  
Thereupon, infinite were the tears of joy shed by Cornelia, infinite the kisses which she gave her son, and infinite the thanks, which she rendered to these Spanish Gentlemen, who had done her these great favours, styling them the humane Angels of her guard, and giving them many other Titles which might give notorious manifestation of her thankfulness.  
They left her with their woman, recommending her unto her care, charging her, that she should look well unto her, and as far forth as was possible serve her diligently, advertising her in what case she was, that she might have recourse for her remedy, since that she in regard that she was a woman, knew better what belonged thereunto then they did. And so that little that remained of night they went to take their rest, with intention not to enter into Cornelia's Chamber unless it were that either she did call for them, or in case of precise necessity. The day came and the woman brought one very secretly, and whilst it was yet dark, for to give the child suck.  
When the gentlemen were up, they inquired after Cornelia; the woman told them that she was taking her rest: whereupon they went to the schools and passed through that street where the quarrel was, and by that house, from whence Cornelia came, for to see if her fault or her being mist were public, or if there were any company gathered together thereabouts. But by no means could they perceive, or hear any thing neither of the fray, nor of Cornelia's absence.  
This diligence done, having heard their Lectures they came home. Cornelia called for them, and sent their woman unto them, to whom they made answer, that they were resolved, not to put their feet within her Chamber, to the end that with the more decorum, that respect should be had, which was due to her modesty, and honesty. But she replied with tears and entreaties that they would come and see her, for that was the most convenient decorum, if not for her remedy, yet at least for her comfort. They did so, and she received them with a cheerful countenance, and a great deal of courtesy; entreating them that they would do her the favour to go into the City, and see if they could hear any news of her bold attempt. They told her, that they had done this diligence with all the curiosity they could devise, but not a word that was spoken of it.  
Whilst they were talking of this business, one of their Pages (for they kept three) came to the Chamber door, and from without, said; there is a gentleman at door attended by two servants, who names himself Lorenzo Bentivogli, and would fain speak with my Master Don juan de Gamboa.  
Upon the hearing of this message, Cornelia clapped both her hands upon her mouth, from between which came forth a low and fearful voice, saying.  
My brother (Gentlemen) my brother, it is he, it is he; doubtless he hath had notice of my being here, and is come purposely hither to take away my life. Help me (Gentlemen) good Gentlemen help me, succour and protect a poor distressed Gentlewoman, and suffer her not to be murdered in your presence.  
Quiet yourself Lady, (said Don Antonio) content yourself and be still; for you are in such a place, and in the power of such a one, who will not suffer any the least wrong in the world to be done unto you. Go you forth (Don juan) and see what this gentleman will have, and I will stay here to make good this place if need shall require, in the behalf of Cornelia. Don juan without any alteration or change of countenance went down; And Don Antonio caused presently a brace of pistols that were ready charged, to be brought him, and commanded the Pages, that they should take unto them their swords, and be prepared to prevent any affront that should be offered.  
The woman perceiving these preventions, trembled; And Cornelia, fearful of some ill success, shaked and quivered much more. Only Don Antonio and Don juan were themselves and very well appointed, and resolved on that which they were to do.  
At the door that opened to the street, Don juan found Don Lorenzo, who had no sooner seen Don juan, but he said unto him; I beseech you (Sir) (for this is the fashion, and courtesy of Italy) that you will do me the favour to go along with me to that Church, which is there right over against us; for I have a business to impart unto you, which imports no less, than my life and my honour▪ With a very good will replied Don juan; Come (Sir) let us go whether you please. Having said this, they walked hand in hand to the Church, and sitting down on a form, and in a place apart, where they might not be heard, Lorenzo spoke first and said.  
I (noble Spaniard) am Lorenzo Bentivogli; if not one of the richest, yet one of the chiefest of this City. This truth being so notorious, may serve to excuse this my speaking in mine own praise; I have some years since continued an Orphan, and there remained in my power a sister of mine, my only sister so fair and so beautiful, that were she not so near unto me I should in such lively colours set it forth, that no endearing should be wanting; for to tell you truly there is not that beauty, take it altogether that can truly match it. Now for that I am honourably descended, and she young and fair, it made me to be very solicitous and careful in the safe keeping of so rich a jewel. But the headstrong will of my sister Cornelia (for that is her name) hath defrauded all my preventions, and diligences. In a word, for to cut of that (not to weary you) which would be too long a story to tell, I shall shut up all in this.  
That the Duke of Ferrara, Alfonso de Este, with Lynx his eyes overcame those of Argos, overthrew my vigilancy and triumphed over my industry by subduing my Sister, carrying her away by night, and taking her out of our kinswomans' house, and (as they say) being but newly delivered, it was night ere I knew it, and this very night I went to seek him out, and I think that I met with him, and gave him something that he cannot brag of; but he was succoured by some Angel who would not give way that I should wash out the stain of my dishonour with his blood. My kinswoman told me (for I had all this from her) that the Duke had deceived my sister under the promise of taking her to be his wife. Which I believe not, by reason of the inequality in the match in regard of the goods of fortune, though there be no disparity in those of nature and of blood, since that the quality of the Bentivogli of Bologna is well known to the world. That, which I believe is, that the Duke (as all great and powerful persons use to do, who seek to tread under their feet the honour of a timorous and wary Damsel) setting before her eyes the sweet name of husband, making her believe that for certain respects he could not with conveniency presently marry her; lies carrying appearance of truths, but false, and ill intended. But be it what it will be, I am sure I see myself without a sister and without mine honour; though all this until now I have locked up in my bosom, under the key of silence, and was not willing to make any acquainted with this my wrong, till I could see whether I could be able to remedy it, or in some sort receive satisfation. For it is better that infamies be presumed and suspected then that they should be certainly and distinctly known; for betwixt the yea and nay, the affirmation and negation of a doubt, every one may lean and incline to that part, which he best liketh, and every one shall have their abettors.  
In conclusion I resolved to go to Ferrara, and to require of the Duke himself satisfaction of my affront, and if he shall deny it me to defy him, and challenge him the field upon the case now in hand, but this not to be performed by squadrons and troops of men, for these, I can neither make nor maintain, but man to man. In which business I would crave the assistance of your person, and that you would be pleased to accompany me in this my journey, being confident of your sufficiency and good performance in what you undertake, for that you are a Spaniard and a Gentleman as I have already been informed. Nor am I willing to acquaint therewith any kinsman or friend of mine, from whom I expect nothing but counsels and diswasions, and from you I may expect those that are good and honourable, though they break through any dangers and difficulties whatsoever. You (Sir) I must entreat to do me the favour to go along with me, for having a Spaniard by my side, and such a one, as you seem unto me to be I shall make account that I carry with me in my defence the Armies of Xerxes. It is a great courtesy that I crave of you, but the debt of corresponding with that which fame proclaimeth of your nation obligeth you to much more.  
No more (Senior Lorenzo) at this time said Don juan (for hitherto without interrupting you, I have harkened to every word of yours) no more I say; for henceforth I constitute myself your defender and adviser, and take to my charge either satisfaction or revenge of your wrong. And this not only as I am a Spaniard, but as I am a gentleman, and that you are so principal a person as you have voiced yourself to be and as I myself and all the world knows.  
Now (Sir) it remaineth, that you resolve upon the time of our going hence. And as I conceive the sooner the better for the Iron is to be wrought whilst it is hot, and the heat of choler doth increase courage, and an injury whilst it is fresh doth rouse and stir up revenge.  
Lorenzo rose up from the form whereon he sat, and with close embracements clasped Don juan in his arms, and said▪ having so generous a breast as yours is (Senor Don juan) it is needless to move it, by setting before it any other interest then that of that honour, which you shall gain in this action, the which shall be wholly yours, in case we come off happily with this business. And for an addition, I offer unto you all whatsoever I have, hold or possess, as far as I am or can be able. And if you like of it, I would willingly that we should take our journey to morrow morning, for I shall be able to day to provide all things necessary for it.  
I like very well of it (replied Don juan;) But I pray give me leave (Senor Lorenzo) that I acquaint therewith a gentleman, my companion and friend of whose valour and silence you may be bolder to build upon then on mine.  
Since that you (Signior Don juan have (as you say) taken my honour to your charge, dispose thereof as you please and speak thereof what you will, and to whom you will; how much more to your companion and friend, who be he what he will be, being of your choice, cannot choose but be good.  
This said, they embraced each other, and took their leave, Signior Lorenzo telling him, that he would send one unto him the next morning to call him, and that they would take horse without the City, and go on their pretended journey in some disguise, that there might no notice be taken of them Don juan came home, and gave an account to Don Antonio and Cornelia of that which had passed with Lorenzo, and the agreement made between them.  
Lord bless me (said Cornelia) great (Sir) is your courtesy, and as great your confidence. How, and so suddenly have you put yourself into a business so full of inconveniences? And how do you know (Sir) whether my brother will carry you to Ferrara, or some other place? But whither soever he shall carry you, you may assure yourself, that there goes along with you faithfulness itself, though myself (I confess) as a wretched and unfortunate woman, do stumble at the motes of the Sun, and am afraid of every shadow; and can you blame me for being afraid, since that my life or my death dependeth on the Duke's answer? And what do I know whether or no he will answer so temperately that my brother's choler may contain itself within the bounds and limits of his discretion? And say it should break out, do you think that he is to deal with a weak enemy? And do not you likewise think that all the while that you shall be absent I shall remain hanging betwixt heaven and hell, fearful and suspensefull, expecting the sweet or bitter news of the success of this business? Do I love so little either the Duke or my brother, that I do not dr●…ad the disgrace and misfortunes of them both, and feel the anguish of them in my very soul? You discourse much and fear more, (Lady Cornelia) said Don juan. But let me persuade you amongst so many fears to leave some place for hope. Put your trust in God, in my industry and good desires & I doubt not, but you shall see yours fulfilled with a●…l felic●…tie and happiness. Our going to Ferrara is not to be excused, & as little my desisting to assist your brother; as yet we do notknow the Duke's intention, & as little whether he know that you be missing. And all this we must know from his own mouth, & no man can better put this question unto him then myself▪ And (Lady Cornelia) I would have you to know, that the welfare and content of your brother & the Duke, I have placed in the apples of mine eyes, and will be as careful of them as I am of these. Heaven prosper you (Signior Don juan) replied Cornelia, and give you the power to bring this business to a good issue, and me a thankful acknowledgement for the good comfort I receive from you. In the midst of these my troubles (thanks to your goodness) I hold myself very fortunate. Now however fear may afflict me in your absence, or hope hold me in suspense, me thinks I would fain see you gone, and as fain see you quickly return.  
Don Antonio approved the determination of Don juan, and commended the good correspondence which Lorenzo Bentivogli's confidence had found in him. Moreover he told him that he would go to accompany them, in regard of that which might happen, not knowing whether things would be fairey carried, and so for fear of the worst would be ready (if occasion served) to see how the game went, and to prevent all foul play.  
O by no means (said Don juan) as well because it is not meet that the Lady Cornelia should be left alone, as also that Signior Lorenzo may not think that I would, (as if I wanted true valour,) underprop mine own weakness, with the strength of others. What concerns you concerns me (answered Don Antonio;) and therefore though unknown, and keeping aloof off, I mean to follow you, and I presume my Lady Cornelia will be well pleased therewith▪ Neither will she remain so all alone, that she shall want one to serve, attend, and keep her company.  
Whereunto Cornelia answered, it will be a great comfort to me (gentlemen) that ye go both together, or at least in such sort, that (if need should require) you may aid and help each other; and since that (to my seeming) you go upon a pe●…ce of service which may be subject to much peril and danger, do me the favour (Gentlemen) to carry these relics along with you: and she had no sooner said so, but she took ●…rom out her bosom a Cross of Diamonds of inestimable value, and an Agnus Dei▪ They looked both of them on these rich jewels, and did ●…alew them in more than they had the hatband, But they returned them back again unto her, saying; That they did carry relics with them, though not so well set forth, and richly adorned, yet at least as good in their quality. Cornelia w●…s very sorry that they would not accept of them, but in fine she must do as they would have her.  
The woman took great care and pains in tending and cheering up Cornelia, and knowing the departure of her masters, for they had acquainted her therewith, but not what they went about, nor whither they went, she took it to her charge to look well unto the Lady, (whose name as yet she did not know) so that they might not at their return have any just cause to find fault.  
The next day betimes in the morning Lorenzo came to the door, and found Don juan ready for his journey, in a handsome riding suit, his rich hat making somewhat the more graceful show by reason of its intermingled black and yellow feathers, but the hatband he covered it over with a black veil. He took his leave of Cornelia, who imagining that her brother was now very near her, was so afraid, that she had not the power to speak one word to these two gentlemen that took their leave of her.  
Don juan went forth first, and with Lorenzo walked out of the City, and in a garden somewhat out of the rode-way, they found two very good Horses well fitted, and two Lackeys holding of them. They mounted on them, the Lackeys running before them, and by uncouth paths, and untrodden byways they travailed towards Ferrara.  
Don Antonio upon a good quat▪ Nag of his own, and in another different riding suit, disguising himself followed after them, but it seemed unto him, that they had an eye upon him, especially Lorenzo, and therefore resolved to take the direct way to Ferrara, assuring himself that there he should meet with them.  
They had scarce gone out of the City, but that Cornelia gave an account to the woman of all that had befallen her▪ and how that child was hers, begotten on her by the Duke of Ferrara, with all the points and passages which hitherto have been related touching her story, not concealing from her how that journey which her masters had undertaken was for Ferrara, accompanying her brother▪ who went to bid defiance by way of challenge to the Duke Alfonso. Which the woman hearing, said unto her.  
O sweet Lady, hath all this ado been about you, and do you like one that sleeps without stretched legs stay here thus careless in a business of such consequence? Either have you no soul, or have you it so benumbed and so senseless that you have no feeling of the miserable estate and condition wherein you are? And I pray tell me, do you happily think that your brother goes to Ferrara? Deceive not yourself, do not think so, but rather think and believe that he hath taken my masters hence, and to get them far from home, that he may the safelier return hither and take away your life; which he may as easily do, as I take up this cup and drink. Consider with yourself under what guard and protection we remain. We have no more but three Pages in the house, and they have enough to do to scratch their itching scabs, whereof they are full; and say they should put themselves upon upon defence, what can they do? This at least I can say of myself, that I (for my part) have not the heart to stay expecting the success and ruin which threatens this house. Signior Lorenzo, an Italian and trust Spaniards? He crave their help and assistance? believe it he that list, for I do not; He reckon of them? he cares not a Fig for them. If you (daughter mine) will take my counsel, I will give you that that shall make you see a little better if you will not stand in your own light.  
Cornelia hearing the woman's reasons which she uttered with such earnestness and vehemency, and with such shows and manifestations of fear, that all that she said unto her seemed to be truths, and that peradventure Don juan and Don Antonio might be slain, and that her brother might be entering the doors of the house, and with his dagger never leave stabbing of her till he had killed her; and therefore being thus perplexed, she said unto her; And what counsel will you give me (friend) that might be wholesome, and that might prevent this storm that hangs over our heads?  
What counsel will I give you? Marry such and so good that all the world (said the woman) cannot bettere●…. I did once (Madám) serve an honest Curate of a country Village, which is some two miles off from Ferrara; he is a good man and will do any thing for me that I can ask of him or is in his power to perform He loves me well, and is more obliged unto me, then to any other woman whatsoever. Let us go thither and let me alone to get some one or other that shall carry us thither. And as for her that gives the child suck, she is a poor woman, and will go along with us to the world's end. And admit (Lady) that you should be found out, it were better that you should be found in the house of a Priest, and that is an old and reverend man, then in the power of two young Students and those Spaniards, who are a kind of people (as I myself can well witness) that will fly at any game. If they cannot meet with a handsome piece of Timber they will content themselves with Chips, and if they cannot ●…ight upon a smooth polished stone, they will make use of rubbish. And though now (Lady) that you are ill at ease, they have borne you good respect, yet when you shall be well and in perfect health, than heaven have mercy upon you. There is no other help that I know. And that I may not lie unto you, if my repulses, disdains and integrity had not guarded me, they had given check mate to my honesty; all is not gold (Lady) that glisters in them. They say one thing and think another, I have had trial enough of them, yet they were not so cunning but I was as crafty. Every body knows where his own shoe wrings him most. I am Madam, (may I speak it without boasting) well borne; I come of the Cribelos of Milan; and for point of honour that I hold in so good a height, that I make account that it reacheth hence ten miles above the clouds. And yet notwithstanding all this, you may see the calamities and crosses (Madam) which I have passed through, since that being descended as I am, I am come to be a servant and drudge to these Spaniards whom they call their woman. Though indeed I must confess that I have no great cause to complain of my masters, for they are very kind and loving, so long as you do not cross and anger them▪ And herein they seem to be Biskayners, as they report themselves to be. But it may be that they are guilty to themselves, that they are Gallegos, which is another nation they say less punctual, and somewhat more subtle and wary than the Biskayners.  
In conclusion, she rendered such and such reasons, that poor Cornelia disposed herself to follow her advise; and so in lessethens four hours, she disposing the business and Cornelia consenting thereunto they had both of them got them into a Wagon, together with the child's nurse, and without being heard of the Pages they put themselves upon their way for that Village where the Curate dwelled. And all this was done by the persuasion of this foolish, fearful woman, and with her moneys, for not long before her master had paid her a whole years' wages. And therefore there was no need of pawning a jewel which Cornelia gave her for that purpose. And for that Cornelia had heard Don juan say that he and her brother would not go the direct way to Ferrara, but by unused paths, they were willing to take the direct way going on very leisurely, that they might not meet with them; and the Waggoner did apply himself to their will, and paced on according to their mind, because they had contented and paid him according to his. But let us leave them jogging on their journey, with that (how e'er it hap) their bold adventure.  
And now let us see how it fared with Don juan de Gamboa, and ●…ignor Lorenzo di Bentivogli, of whom it is said, that being upon their way, they had notice that the Duke was not in Ferrara but in Bologna. And therefore leaving the wheeling and going about which they had fetched, they came into the common highway, considering with themselves that the Duke must pass that way in his return from Bologna▪ And they had not long been entered thereinto, when looking towards Bologna for to see if any came from thence, they might espy coming towards them a great troop of Horse; And then Don juan said to Lorenzo that he should go a little out of the way because if it should happen that the Duke should come in company with them, he would have some speech there with him, before he should enter into Ferrara, which was not far off. Lorenzo did so, and approved Don juans opinion.  
As soon as Lorenzo was gone aside, Don juan took off that case which covered his rich ●…hatband, and this he did not without difereete discourse, as he afterwards declared. By this time this travailing troop was come, and among them came a woman upon a pied Nag in a fair riding suit, and her face covered with a Mask, either for the better keeping of herself from being known, or for to keep herself from the Sun and Air.  
Don juan stood still with his horse in the middle of the way, and bore faced, waiting till this troop should come up to him. And in coming nearer up unto him, his fashion, his lively and spriteful look, his pleasing countenance, the galantrie of his clothes, and the proudness of his Horse, and the glittering lustre and bright-shining beams of his Diamonds, drew after them the eyes of all those that past that way; and more especially those of the Duke of Ferrara, who was one of them; who as soon as he had placed his eyes on the hatband, he presently apprehended that he who wore it, was Don juan de Gamboa, who had taken part with him, and brought him safe off in that his quarrel. And so truly did he apprehend this truth, that without making further discourse with himself, he set Spurs to his Horse, and made up to Don juan, saying; Noble Sir, If I call you Don juan de Gamboa, I persuade myself I shall not be therein deceived, for your brave and gentle disposition, and this hat you wear tells me as much.  
It is true (answered Don juan) for I never yet knew nor am I willing to dissemble, or conceal my name, for I have not done aught that I need to be ashamed thereof. But I pray (Sir) tell me who you are, lest I might otherwise offend in point of good manners, and so show myself discourteous.  
That is impossible (replied the Duke) for I conceive and assure you on my part, that you can in no case be discourteous with me, yet notwithstanding I tell you Signior Don juan that I am the Duke of Ferrara, and he that is obliged to serve you all the days of his life; for it is not four nights since that you gave it me. The Duke had no sooner made an end of saying this, but Don juan with strange nimbleness alighted from his horse & went to kiss the Duke's foot. But for all the haste that he made, the Duke had got down from his seat, and took Don juan and embraced him in his arms▪ Signior Lorenzo who from afar beheld these ceremonies, not thinking that they were of courtesy but of choler put spurs to his horse as hard as he could drive but in the midst of his speed, he took him up gently by degrees, and made a stand, because he saw the Duke, and Don juan (who now knew the Duke) closely embracing 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the Duke casting his eye over Don juans shoulder hee●…●…spied Lorenzo, and knew him, and was at the first sight, not dreaming of his being there so near him, somewhat start●…ed therewith, and therefore whilst they were as yet in their embracements, the Duke demanded of Don juan whether Lorenzo Bentivogli, who stood thereby, came along with him or no? Whereunto Don juan replied; Let us go●… a little 〈◊〉, and I shall acquain●…: your Excellency ●…ith great and strange matters. The Duke did so, and then Don juan said unto him.  
Signior Lorenzo Bentivogli, whom you see there, hath a complaint▪ and no small one against you; He saith, that it is now four heights since that you took his Sister Cornelia out of his Kinswomans' house, and that you have deceived and dishonoured her, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 know from you what satisfaction you mean●… vol give him by way of reparation, which he holds ●…to require. He entreated me that I would be his second, or at least become an Umpire, for the according of this business, upon honourable terms. I offered this my service and my best endeavours, because by these g●…sses and suspicions which he gave me of the quarrel, I knew that you (Sir) were the master and owner of this hatband which out of your liberality and courtesy, you would that it should be mine. And knowing likewise that none could better undertake this task than myself, nor more tender your good and safety than I do, I offered him my best furtherance and assistance. Now that (Sir) which I would entreat of you, is, that you would plainly tell me what you know concerning this case, and whether that be true which Lorenzo saith.  
O my dear friend, (answered the Duke) it is such a truth that I dare not, though I would deny it: But I must tell you withal, that I have neither deceived, nor taken Cornelia away, though I know she is gone out of the house where she was, but whither God knows, for I do not. I have not deceived her, because I hold her to be my wife; nor have I taken her away because I know not what is become of her. And if I did not publicly celebrate my Nuptials, it was because I did still look that my mother (who is now upon her last) should pass from this to a better life; being very▪ desirous that I should marry the Lady L●…ia, daughter to the Duke of M●…tua, as likewise for many other inconveniences, more per adventure effectual than the former, and not now fit to be spoken of. That which posseth (and take it for truth) is. That that very night, when you came in to suecour me▪ I purposed to have carried her away with me to Ferrara. For she was now in the month wherein she was to bring forth to the light that pledge which heaven had ordained to be deposited in her. Now whether it were by reason of that quarrel, or whether by my carelessness, when I came to her house, I found coming out of it, the secretary of our compact and contract, and all other our meetings and agreements. I asked for Cornelia, she told me that she was newly gone out, and that she had that very night been delivered of a son, one of the fairest creatures that ever eye saw, and that she had given it to my servant Fabio. That is the damsel which comes there, Fabio is here with me, but the babe and Cornelia are both missing. I have been there two days in Bologna, expecting and enquiring if I could hear any news of Cornelia, but have heard none.  
So that (Sir) said Don juan, when Cornelia and your son shall appear you will neither deny the one to be your spouse, nor the other your son.  
No certainly, (replied the Duke) for though I prise my myself to be a gentleman, yet I prize myself more, to be a Christian. And the rather for that Cornelia is such a one▪ as deserveth to be mistress of a kingdom, should she appear and live or my mother die, the world shall then know that if I knew to be a lover, I likewise knew how to keep that faith in public, which I did plight in secret.  
You shall do well (Sir) said Don juan; that what you have said to me you will say the same to your brother Signior Lorenzo. I am sorry (replied the Duke) that he hath been kept so long from knowing it.  
Thereupon Don juan instantly made signs to Lorenzo that he should alight from his horse, and come unto them, which he did, being far from thinking on that good news which attended him. The Duke advanced himself, to receive him with open arms, & the first word he spoke unto him was (Brother.) Lorenzo scarce knew on the sudden how to return answer to so loving a salutation and courteous a reception. And standing thus in suspense before he could recollect himself to speak a word. Don juan said unto him.  
The Duke (Signior Lorenzo) acknowledgeth the secret conversation which he hath had with your Sister, the Lady Cornelia. He likewise confesseth that she is his lawful wife; and that as he avers it here, so will he avouch it in public when occasion shall be offered. He grants in like manner that he went some four nights since to fetch her away from her kinswomans' house, for to carry her with him to Ferrara, and to wait for a good conjuncture for the celebrating of his Nuptials, which he hath deferred upon very just causes, which he hath made known unto me; he tells me also of the quarrel which he had with you; and that when he went for Cornelia, he met with Sulpicia, her waiting gentlewoman, which is that woman whom you see there, of whom he learned that it was not above an hour since that Cornelia was delivered, and that she gave the babe to a servant of the Dukes, and that Cornelia forth with believing that the Duke was there, went full of fear out of the house, because she imagined, that you Signior Lorenzo, had already notice of her proceedings. Sulpicia gave not the babe to the Duke's servant but to another in his stead. Cornelia appears not, the Duke bears all the blame, and yet he saith; That whensoever and wheresoever the Lady Cornelia shall appear, he will take and receive her as his true and lawful wife. Now (Signior Lorenzo) what can he say more, or what more by you, and us to be desired or wished for, than the finding out of those two, as rich, as unfortunate pledges?  
Hereunto answered Signior Lorenzo (throwing himself at the Duke's feet, who strove to take him up) Of your christianity and greatness (most noble Sir) and my dear brother, neither could my Sister nor myself expect less good from you, then that which you have done to us both. To her in equalling her with yourself, and to me in ranking me in the number of your friends and alliance. And with that the tears trickled down from his eyes, and so likewise did they from the Dukes, both out of mere tenderness of heart. The one for the loss of his spouse, and the other that he had found so good a brother in Law. But considering that it might seem weakness in them to manifest their grief by their tears, they did compress them, and withdrew them from their eyes. But those of Don juan were very cheerful, as if they had asked them Albricias, or some reward for the glad tidings of Cornelias and her sons being found, being that he left them well in his own house.  
In these terms things stood, when lo Don Antonio de Ysunca discovered himself, whom whiles he was yet a good ways of, Don juan knew by his Nag, but when he drew near he made a stand, and saw Don juans and Signor Lorenzo's horses, and the Lackeys that held them, and though they were a good way off, yet he knew Don juan and Lorenzo, but not the Duke. He knew not what to do with himself, whether he should draw near or no, where Don juan was: Coming therefore to one of the Duke's servants, he demanded of him whether he knew that gentleman which was with the other two, pointing to the Duke? He told him that it was the Duke of Ferrara; wherewith he remained amazed, and knew less what to do with himself now then he did before. But Don juan did put him out of this his perplexity by calling unto him by his name. Don Antonio alighted, seeing that they were all a foot, and came unto them. The Duke received him with a great deal of courtesy, because Don juan had told him that he was his friend, and companion.  
In conclusion Don juan recounted unto Don Antonio all that which had betided him with the Duke, till he came unto them. Don Antonio was therewith extremely joyed, and said to Don juan; Why Signior Don juan do not you make an end of putting the joy and contentment of these two gentlemen in their true point, giving a period thereunto, by craving Albricias for the finding out of the Lady Cornelia, and her son? If you had not come (Signior Don Antonio) I would have begged Albricias, but now do you beg them; for I assure you they will give them you with a very good will.  
The Duke and Lorenzo hearing them treat of the finding of Cornelia, and of Albricias, asked them what was that they talked of? What should it be (replied Don Antonio) but that I am willing to make one in this Tragick-Comedie, and must be he that must beg Albricias of you for the finding of the Lady Cornelia, and of her son, for they are in my house. And so presently point by point he recounted unto them all that which heretofore hath been said; where of the Duke and Signior Lorenzo received so great pleasure and content, that Lorenzo embraced Don juan, and the Duke Don Antonio. The Duke promised all his estate for bringing him this good news, and Signior Lorenzo his goods, his life, and his soul. They called to the waiting gentlewoman that delivered the child to Don juan, who having taken notice of Lorenzo stood trembling and quaking for fear. They asked her if she knew the man, to whom she had delivered the child, she answered no; but that she asked him, if he were Fabio? And he replied, yes, and that upon this good belief she gave it him, you say true indeed (said Don juan) and you (gentlewoman) anon after shut the door and told me that I should have a care of it, and see it safe, and come quickly back again unto you: it is even so (Sir) as you say, answered the gentlewoman, shedding many a tear. But the Duke bid her be quiet, and said; Now there are no need here of tears, but jubiles, and feast. And since the case stands thus, I will not enter Ferrara, but forthwith return back to Bologna; for all these contentments are but as in shadow, till that the seeing of my Cornelia make them true. And without saying any more, by a joint consent they presently turned about to make for Bologna. Don Antonio went before for to prepare for Cornelia, lest that she might be overtaken with some sudden passion upon the unexpected coming of the Duke, and her brother. But when he found her not, neither could the Pages tell him any news of her, he remained the most ashamed, and most sorrowful man in the world. And when he saw that their woman too was wanting, he imagined that by her industry and persuasions Cornelia was missing. The Pages told him that the woman was wanting the same day that they were. And as for Cornelia, for whom he asked, they never saw her. Don Antonio was almost out of his wits with this unexpected chance, fearing happily that the Duke would hold them for liars or impostors, or perhaps imagine other worse things, which might redound in prejudice of their honour, and Cornelia's credit.  
Whilst he was imagining and casting these doubts and scruples with himself, entered the Duke, Don juan, and Lorenzo by unfrequented streets and back lanes, having left the rest of their people with out the City. They came to Don juan house, and found Don Antonio sitting in a Chair, with his hands on his cheeks, and with a colour as pale and wa●…e as death. Don juan asked him, what are you not well? Where is Cornelia? Don Antonio replied; How can I be well, since that Cornelia doth not appear? who with the woman that we left with her for to keep her company▪ the same day that we were gone, she was gone. The Duke wanted little of growing desperate upon the hearing of this sad news.  
In a word, all of them were much troubled, suspensive, and imaginative, casting I know not what in their minds. Whilst they were thus in their dumps, there came a Page unto Don Antonio, and whispering him in the ear, told him; 〈◊〉 Don juan Page, from that day that you went hence, hath kept a very handsome woman in his chamber and I believe that her name is Cornelia, for I heard him call her so. Antonio was now troubled 〈◊〉 and would rather that Cornelia had not appeared at all (for he did verily believe that that was she whom the Page had ●…id) then that they should find her in such a place, yet notwithstanding he said nothing, but holding his peace he stole to the Pages Chamber but found the door locked, and the Page from home. He came to the door, and in a low voice said; Lady Cornelia open the door, come forth to receive your brother and the Duke your husband, who are come to seek you. He heard one answer within▪ what do you mock me? I am not so ill favoured▪ nor so unfortunate that Dukes and Earls may not seek after me. But this it is, to have to do with Pages, I deserve no better payment. By which words Don Antonio understood that she that answered him was not Cornelia.  
Whilst this passed, came Santistevan the Page, and hied him presently to his lodging, and finding Don Antonio there who willed him to bring him the Keys of the house, for to try if any of them would open the door; the Page falling down upon his knees, with the Key in his hand, said unto him▪ your absence and my ●…guery made me bring hither this woman, who hath abode with me here, this three nights; I beseech you (Sir) as you are a gentleman, and may hear good news from Spain, that if my master Don juan de Gamboa hath not already heard of it, that he may not know of it▪ for I will instantly put her out of the house. And what is this woman's name, said Don Antonio her name Sir (replied the Page) is Cornelia.  
The Page who discovered the Ambush (who bore no great good will to 〈◊〉▪ nor is it known whether out of simplicity, or malice▪) came down where the Duke, Don juan and Lorenzo were saying; that Page yonder hath kept up Cornelia close▪ like a Hawk in a Mew, and could, have wished that his master had not come home so soon, that he might have taken his pleasure of her three or four▪ days longer, Lorenzo over heard this, and asked him what is that (my friend) you say? where is Cornelia? Above (answered the Page.) The Duke had no sooner heard this, but like lightning he got him up the stairs to see Cornelia, imagining that she had appeared, and lighted right on the chamber where Don Antonio was, and entering he said; where art thou Cornelia? where is the life of my life? Here is Cornelia answered a woman, that lay wrapped up in a sheet of the bed with her face covered and prosecuted her speech, saying; This is no such great fault as you would make it, you need not make such a deal ado about it, it is no such new or strange thing for a woman to lie with a Page, that you make such a wonder of it. Lorenzo, who was there present, raging with despite and choler, took the sheet by one of the corners and pulled it off, and discovered a young woman of no ill aspect, who out of shame clapped her hands before her face, and made haste to take her clothes unto her which served her instead of a pillow, for the bed had none; and by these and other like signs they saw that she was some common hackney which did set out herself to hire: The Duke asked her and willed her that she should tell him truly whether her name were Cornelia or no? She made him answer that it was; and that she had kinsfolk of very good account and credit in the City, and that none can say of themselves that they will not drink of this water.  
The Duke was so ashamed, that he was almost ready to imagine that the Spaniards had put a trick upon him▪ But to the end that he might not give way to the entertaining of so ill a suspicion, he turned his back, and without speaking one word Lorenzo following him, they got to their Horses and went their way, leaving Don juan, and Don Antonio more ashamed than they; and determined with themselves to use all possible, yea even all impossible diligences in seeking out Cornelia, and in satisfying the Duke of their truth and good desires. They put Santistevan out of their service for a bold impudent fellow, and turned that shameless Quean Cornelia out of doors; And in that very instant it came into their mind that they had forgotten to tell the Duke of those jewels, the Agnus dei, and the Cross of Diamonds which Cornelia had offered them, being that by these tokens he might have been induced to believe that Cornelia had been in their power, and that if she were now wanting, they could not do withal they hasted forth to tell him this, but they found him not in Lorenzo's house where they thought he had been.  
They met with Lorenzo, who told them, that without making any stay at all he went directly to Ferrara, leaving order for the looking out of his Sister; They acquainted him with their errand, and with what they meant to have said to the Duke in their just excuse, but Lorenzo told them that the Duke was very well satisfied of their good proceeding, and that both of them had laid the fault on Cornelia's too much fear, and that God would be pleased that she should ere long appear, since that they persuaded themselves that the earth had not swallowed up the Child, the woman, and herself.  
With this they did all comfort themselves, and were not willing to make inquiry after her by public proclamations, but by secret diligences, because her being mist was known by none but her kinswoman; and amongst those who did not know the Duke's intention, his Sister might run the hazard of her reputation, if they should make a public proclaiming of it, and that it would require a great deal of labour and trouble for to go satisfying every one of those suspicions which a vehement presumption should infuse into them.  
The Duke went forward on his journey, and it so happened by good fortune, or rather divine Providence had so disposed it, that he came to that Village of this Curate, where were already arrived Cornelia, the Child, the Nurse, and the Plotter and deviser of their going thither; And they had given him account of all the business, and besought his advice and counsel what they were best to do.  
The Curate was a great lover of the Duke, to whose house fitted and accommodated, like that of a rich and curious Clergyman; the Duke did use oftentimes to come from Ferrara, and from thence went a hunting. For he took great pleasure and delight as well in the Curates curiosity, as in the wittiness and gracefulness in all whatsoever he either said or did. He was no whit moved or troubled to see the Duke in his house, (for as already hath been said) it was not the first time that he had been there. But it did grieve and discontent him to see him there so sad and melancholy; for he did presently perceive that his mind was troubled and possessed with some passion.  
Cornelia had overheard that the Duke of Ferrara was there, and was extremely troubled thereat, because she did not know with what intention he came thither; She wrung her hands, and ran up and down from one place to another, as if she had been distracted and out of her wits▪ Cornelia would feign have spoken with the Curate, but he was entertaining the Duke, and had not the leisure to talk with her.  
The Duke said unto him, Father, I am come hither I confess very sad and heavy, and will not enter to day into Ferrara, but be your guest; I pray go forth, and bid those that came with me, to go back again to Ferrara, only let Fabio stay here with me. The good Curate did so; and then presently went to give order for the entertaining and serving of the Duke. And so upon this occasion Cornelia might have the opportunity to speak with him; who taking him by both the hands, held him fast, and said unto him. O Father, what is that the Duke would have? what is it he comes about? for God's sake (sir) give him some touch, touching my business, and see if you can sound him, and by some sign or other, discover his intention. In conclusion, so carry this business as shall seem best unto you, and as your great discretion shall direct you.  
Whereunto the Curate answered, that the Duke was very sad and pensive, but hath not as yet told me the cause of this his grief. That which is to be done, is that you presently dress this Child, and make it as neat and fine as possibly you can; adorning him withal your jewels▪ especially those the Duke gave you, and leave the rest to me. Cornelia embraced him and kissed his hands, and withdrew herself to dress and trick up the Child.  
The Curate in the mean while went forth to entertain the Duke until dinner time; and talking and discoursing of divers things, the Curate asked the Duke whether he might be so bold, as to learn from him the cause of his melancholy? because a man might plainly perceive a league of this his sadness.  
Father (said the Duke) it is a clear case, that the sorrows of the heart will break out and show themselves in the countenance of man or woman; and in our eyes and looks is read the relation of that which is in our souls. And that which grieves me most, is; that I cannot as yet communicate my sorrow to any. But truly (my Lord) replied the Curate, if you were but now in case, or would be pleased to see things of pleasure and delight, I could show you one which I keep to myself, which would give you great contentment. Very silly and simple (answered the Duke) should that man be, who having a remedy offered him for his malady would not take it. As you love me (Father) I pray show it me; this which you now speak of, must be some of your curiosities, all which have hitherto given me singular content.  
The Curate rose up from his seat, and went where Cornelia was, who had now made an end of dressing her son and had put on and about him those rich jewels of the Cross, and of the Agnus dei, with other three most precious stones, all given by the Duke to Cornelia; and taking the Child in his arms, he went where the Duke was, desiring him that he would rise from his chair, and that he would be pleased to take the pains to come to the window, because the light was there much clearer. Being come thither, he took the Child out of his arms, and put it into those of the Duke; who when he had looked upon it and knew the jewels and saw that they were the same which he had given to Cornelia; he remained astonished and amazed: and looking wishly on the Child, it seemed unto him that he saw his own picture, And being full of admiration, he asked the Curate whose Child that was, which in its adorning and dressing seemed to be the Child of some Prince?  
I know not (replied the Curate) only I know this, that some (I know not how many) months since, a gentleman of Bologna brought him hither unto me, and gave me in charge that I should look well unto him, and breed him up; for that he was the son of a valiant and noble Father, and of a principal and most beautiful Mother. There came likewise with this gentleman, a woman for to nurse the Child; of whom I did demand if she knew aught concerning the Parents of this Babe? but she told me she knew nothing touching that particular. And indeed if the Mother be so fair as is the Nurse, she must needs be the fairest woman in all Italy. May we not see her said the Duke? yes certainly said the Curate. Come you (sir) with me; for if the dressing and beauty of this pretty creature hath thus suspended you, and made you stand at a gaze, as I believe and perceive it hath, what will the sight of its Nurse do? The Curate would have taken the Child from the Duke, but he would not let him go till that he had hugged him in his bosom, and bestowed many kisses upon him. The Curate in the interim got him a little before, and calling to Cornelia, wished her that she should come forth without any perturbation at all, for to receive the Duke.  
Cornelia did so; and being overtaken with a sudden passion, there arose such fresh colours in her face, as did beautifien her beyond measure▪ The Duke was wonderfully strucken when he saw her, and she throwing herself at his feet would have kissed them. The Duke without speaking any one word▪ gave the Child to the Curate, and turning himself from them, he got him with great haste out of the house; Which Cornelia seeing, turning herself about to the Curate, said unto him;  
Ay me (good sir) have my looks scared and affrighted the Duke that he cannot endure the sight of me? Am I grown odious in his eyes? am I so foul that he doth loath and abhor me? Hath he forgot those obligations wherein he stands bound unto me? what would he not vouchsafe to speak so much as one word unto me? Was his Son so burdensome unto him? was he so weary with holding of him, that he so quickly rather threw, then put him out of his arms? To all which her complaint the Curate replied not a word, wondering at the sudden flight of the Duke, for it seemed unto him to be rather a flying, than any thing else.  
But all this his haste was to no other end, save to go out to call Fabio, and to say unto him; Run (Fabio) and make all the haste you can to Bologna, and bid Lorenzo Bentivogli, and the two Spanish gentlemen, Don juan de Gamboa, and Don Antonio de Ysanca, that instantly laying all businesses and excuses aside, they come instantly unto me to this Village. See (Fabio) that you make all possible speed, lose no time, and by no means do not you come without them, for it importeth me no less than my life to see them.  
Fabio was not slothful, but presently put his Lords command in execution. He being thus dispatched and sent away, the Duke presently returned back again where Cornelia was; finding her distilling pearled drops of tears. The Duke took her into his arms, and adding tears to tears, a thousand times he drank in the breath of her mouth, taking great content in each other, though their tongues were bound to the peace. And so in an honest and amorous silence, these two happy lovers and true man and wife did enjoy themselves. The Child's Nurse and Cri●…ela) at least as she herself said) who between the doors of another chamber stood observing what passed betwixt the Duke and Cornelia, were ready for joy to leap out of their skins, and were so overtaken with this so pleasing a sight, that they seemed wild and half out of their wits.  
The Curate bestowed a thousand kisses on the pretty sweet babe which he had in his arms, and with his right hand which was disoccupied and at liberty, he was never satisfied with throwing Benedictions on those two embraced lovers. The Curates Maid who was not present at this great and strange chance, because she was busy in dressing and providing dinner; when all was ready to be served in, she came in to call them to sit down to their meat which stayed on the table waiting for them. This broke off their strict embracements, and the Duke disincumbred the Curate of the Child and took him into his own arms, and there held him all the while that (that rather well seasoned then sumptuous) dinner lasted. And being thus sitting and eating together, Cornelia gave him an account of all that which had happened till her coming to that house, by the advice and counsel of that she servant of the two Spanish gentlemen, who had served, protected, and kept her with the honestest and most punctual decorum that could be imagined. The Duke likewise recounted unto her all that which had be fallen him till this very instant.  
There were present waiting on them, the two Nurses wet, and dry, who received from the Duke great offers, and large promises. In all of them was renewed the content which they took in the happy end of this rare success, and only stayed expecting to make it fuller, and to put it into the best state that possibly could be desired, by the coming of Lorenzo, of Don juan, and Don Antonio: who some three days after comforting themselves with hope, and being very desirous to know whether the Duke had as yet any news of Cornelia? For Fabio, who was purposely sent for them, could not inform them of her being found, because he knew nothing of it.  
The Duke went forth to receive them in a large room adjoining near unto that where Cornelia was; but without expressions of any contentment at all: whereupon these new-come guests were very heavy and sorrowful, and looked sadly one upon another. The Duke caused them to sit down, and he himself fate with them, and directing his speech to Lorenzo, he said unto him;  
You wot well (Signior Lorenzo Bentivogli) that I did never deceive your Sister, as Heaven, and mine own Conscience can well witness for me; you know likewise the diligence which I have used, and the desire which I have had to find her out that I might marry her, and make her my Wife, according unto promise. She appears not, and my word ought not to be eternal. I am a young man, and not so well grounded and experienced in the things of this World, that I should not suffer myself to be carried away by those, which delight every foot offereth me. The self same affection which made me promise myself to be Cornelia's Husband, did likewise lead me, before I passed my word unto her, to promise marriage to a Country wench, a husband man's Daughter of this Village▪ whom I did think to put off, and leave deluded, that I might apply myself to Cornelia's worth; though not to that which my conscience did dictate unto me, which was no small manifestation of my great love. But since that no man marries with a Wife which doth not appear; and that it doth not stand with reason, that a man should seek after a Wife that forsakes him, that she may not be found by him whom she abhorreth; I say this (Signior Lorenzo) that you may thereby see the satisfaction, which I am both willing, and able to give you, that I have not done you any the least wrong or affront, being that I never had any inten●…ion or purpose to do it. And therefore I would have you to give me leave to comply with my first promise, and that I may marry this Country Maid, who is now here in this house.  
Whilst that the Duke was making this speech, Lorenzo's countenance went, changing itself into a thousand colours, neither could he for his life sit still after one and the same manner; which were clear signs and manifest tokens, that choler went taking possession of all his senses. In the like taking was Don juan, and Don Antonio, who did presently resolve that the Duke should not go on with his intention, although it cost them their lives.  
The Duke then reading their mind in their faces, said; rest you quiet (Signior Lorenzo) for before that you shall return me any one word in answer to mine; I will, that the beauty that you shall see in her, whom I am desirous to make my Wife, may oblige you to give me leave to do that which I crave of you. For it is such, and so beyond all mortal manner, that it will be able to plead excuse for far greater errors.  
When the Duke was risen and went his way from them, Don juan stood up, and resting both his hands on the arms of the Chair where Don Lorenzo sat, he said unto him in a loud voice; By St. jago of Galicia (Signior Lorenzo) and by the Faith of a Christian which I profess; I vow, that I will as soon suffer the Duke to proceed in this his purpose, as I intent to turn Moor. As I am a Gentleman, here, even here, and in these very hands of mine, he shall either leave his life, or perform his word and promise which he made to your Sister the Lady Cornelia; or at least to give them time and respite for to seek after her, till such time that they should certainly know that she were dead; and in the mean while, not to permit him to Marry. I am of the same opinion answered Lorenzo; and of the same likewise (replied Don juan) will my friend and companion Don Antonio be.  
While they were thus debating this business, from out a Room just before them, came Cornelia in the middle, betwixt the Curate, and the Duke, who led her by the hand. After whom followed Sulpicia, Corneti●… Gentle woman, (the Duke having sent for her to Ferrara) and the two Nurses to the Child, and the Woman belonging to the Spanish Gentlemen.  
When Lorenzo saw his Sister, and had taken a full view of her, and knew that it was she (for at first, the impossibility, to his seeming of such a success, did not suffer him to enter truly into the reckoning of it,) stumbling out of haste, he went to throw himself at the Duke's feet; he took him up, and placed him in his Sister's arms, who embraced him with all possible demonstrations of joy.  
Don juan, and Don Antonio, told the Duke that he had put upon them the most discreet, and most savoury conceit in the World.  
The Duke took the Child which Sulpicia brought in her arms, and giving it to Lorenzo, said; here Brother, take your Nephew, and my Son, and see now, whether or no you will give me leave to marry with this Country Lass, who is the first that ever I plighted my faith unto, that I would marry her.  
It were an endless piece of work, to recount that which Lorenzo replied; that which Don juan asked him; that which Don Antonio thought, the rejoicing of the Curate, the joy of Suloicia, the content of the advisers, the admiration of Fabio, the jubilee of the Nurse; and in a word, the general contentment of all.  
The Curate forthwith married them, Don juan de Gamboa being the Father that gave her. And amongst them all it was concluded and agreed upon, that those Nuptials should be secret, and concealed; till they should see how it fared with the Duchess his Mother, who was almost spent, by reason of her long sickness: and that in the meanwhile, Cornelia should return with her brother to Bologna. All this was done.  
The Duchess shortly after died, and Cornelia entered into Ferrara, cheering the World with her fair presence: Mourning weeds, were turned into gay and rich clothes, The Nurses were liberally rewarded. Sulpicia was married to Fabio. Don Antonio, and Don juan were wonderful well contented, that it was there good fortune, that they had been some way serviceable to the Duke; who offered them two of his near kinswomen to be their Wives, with exceeding rich Dowries. But they told him, that the Gentlemen of Biscay, for the most part did marry in their own Country: and that not out of any scorn, (for that was not possible) but for to comply with that commendable custom, and the will of their Parents, who had already provided Wives for them; they did not, nor could accept of this his most noble offer.  
The Duke admitted of their excuse, and by honest and honourable means, and seeking after lawful occasions, he sent them many Presents to Bologna, and some so rich, and that in so good a season and conjuncture; that although they might not admit of them, lest it might seem that they received pay for their service, yet the time wherein they came, did facilitate their kind acceptance of them. Especially those which he sent them at their going for Spain: and those which he gave them when they went to Ferrara to take their leave of him, where they found Cornelia accompanied with other Ladies, amongst whom, her transcendent beauty, and incomparable virtues, made her shine with as much superiority, as a Star of a greater magnitude exceeds in splendour the lesser Lumanaries of its own Sphere. The Duke being (according to all the grounds of reason and love) more enamoured of her then ever.  
The Duchess gave her Cross of Diamonds to Don juan, and her Agnus dei, to Don Antonio; who when they saw that all their mannerly refusals would not serve their turn▪ they with an unwilling willingness received them.  
They came to Spain, into their own Country, where they were married to rich, principal, and beautiful young Women, continuing still their correspondency with the Duke, and the Duchess; and with Signior Lorenzo Bentivogli, to the great good liking on either part.  
The end of the second Book.   

THE LIBERAL LOVER.  
THE THIRD BOOK.  
OH the lamentable Ruins of unhappy Nicosia! The blood of thy valiant and unfortunate defenders being yet scarce dry. If (as thou art senseless thereof) thou hadst any feeling at all in this desolate and woeful estate wherein now we are, we might jointly bewail our misfortunes and that wretched estate and condition wherein we are; And happily having a companion in them, it would help to ease me in some sort of my torment, and make that burden of my grief the lighter; which I find so heavy (I had almost said insupportable) for me to bear. Yet there is some hope left unto thee, that these thy strong Towers dismantled and laid level with the ground; thou mayst one day see them, (though not in so just a defence, as that wherein they were overthrown) raised to their former height and strength.  
But I, (of all unfortunate, the most unfortunate man,) what good can I hope for in that miserable strait wherein I find myself? yea, though I should return to the same estate and condition wherein I was, before I fell into this; such is my misfortune, that when I was free and at liberty, I knew not what happiness was; and now in my thraldom and captivity, I neither have it, nor hope it.  
These words did a Christian Captive utter, looking with a sad and heavy countenance from the rising of a hill on the ruined Walls of the late▪ lost Nicosia. And thus did he talk with them, and compared his miseries with theirs, as if they had been able to understand him. (The common and proper condition of afflicted persons, who being violently carried away with their own feigned fancies, and imaginary conceptions; do, and say things beyond all reason, and without any good discourse, and advisement)  
Now whilst he was thus discoursing with himself from out a Pavilion, or one of those Tents pitched there in the field, not far from him issued out a Turk, a handsome young man, of a good presence, an ingenious aspect, and accompanied with spirit and mettle answerable to his looks; who drawing near unto the Christian, without much ceremony, yet in a fair and civil way, said unto him; Sir, I durst lay a wager with you, that those your pensive thoughts which I read in your face have brought you hither. You read aright, answered Ricardo, (for this was the Captives name) they have brought me hither indeed: But what doth it avail me? since in no place whether so ever I go, I am so far from procuring a peace; that I cannot obtain a truce, or any the least cessation of them. Nay rather these Ruins which from hence discover themselves unto me, have rather increased my sorrows. Those of Nicosia you mean? replied the Turk; What other should I mean (answered Ricardo) since there are no other which here offer themselves to my view. You have great cause (quoth the Turk) to weep, if you entertain your thoughts with these and the like contemplations.  
For they, who but some two years since had seen this famous and rich Island of Cyprus in its prosperity, and peaceable estate; the ●…nhabitants thereof enjoying all that humane happiness and felicity, which the Heavens could grant unto men, or themselves desire, and now to see them banished out of it, or made miserable slaves in it; Who can be so hard hearted, as to forbear from bewailing its calamity and misfortune.  
But let us leave talking of these things since they are remediless, and let us come to your own bosom sorrows, for I desire to see if they be such, as you voice them to be. And therefore, I earnestly entreat and beseech you, and conjure thee, by that which thou owest to those good offices I have done thee; the good will I bear thee, the love I have shown thee, and by that which ought to oblige thee thereunto; in that we are both of one and the same Country, and bred up in our Childhood together; that thou wilt deal freely with me, and lay open unto me what is the cause which makes thee so exceeding sad and melancholy? For how be it, Captivity alone of itself be sufficient to grieve the stoutest heart in the World, and to check its mirth; though otherwise naturally inclined thereunto, yet notwithstanding I imagine, that the current of your disasters hath a farther reach and deeper bottom.  
For generous minds (such as thine is) do not use to yield and render up themselves to common & ordinary misfortunes, in such a measure, as to make show of extraordinary sorrows. And I am the rather induced to believe what I conceive, because I know that you are not so poor, but that you are well enough able to pay any reasonable Ransom they shall require of you. Nor are you clapped up in the Towers of the black Sea, as a prisoner of note, or Captive of consideration, who late, or never obtains his desired liberty. And therefore yourill fortune not having taken from you the hope of seeing yourself a free man; and yet notwithstanding all this, when I see thee so much overcharged with sorrows, and making such miserable manifestations of thy misfortunes; It is not much that I imagine that the pain proceeds from some other cause than thy lost liberty, which I entreat thee to acquaint me withal; offering thee all the assistance I am able to give thee▪ Perhaps, to the end that I may be serviceable unto thee, Fortune in her wheeling hath brought this about, that I should be clad in this habit which I so much hate and abhor.  
Thou knowest already (Ricardo) that my Master is (adi of this City (which is the same, as to be its Bishop;) Thou likewise knowest the great sway which he beareth here, and how much I am able to do with him. Together with this, thou art not ignorant of the servant desire and inflamed zeal which I have, not to die in this estate which I thus seem to profess; but God knows my heart, and if ever I should come to be put to my trial, I am resolved openly to confess, and in a loud voice to publish to the whole world, the Faith of jesus Christ, from which my few years, and less understanding separated me; though that I were sure that such a confession should cost me my life; for that I may free myself from losing that of my soul, I should think the losing of that of my body very well employed.  
Out of all this which hath been said unto thee, I leave it to thyself to infer the conclusion, and that thou wilt take it into thy deeper and better consideration; whether my proffered friendship may be profitable and useful unto thee.  
Now that I may know what remedies thy misfortune requires, and what medicines I may apply both for the easing and curing of it; it is requesite, that thou recount it unto me; the relation thereof being as necessary for me, as that of the rich Patient to his Physician; assuring thee in the faith of a friend, that thou shalt deposit it in the deepest and darkest den of silence, never to come to light.  
To all these words of his, Ricardo gave an attentive ●…are, though his tongue were silent▪ but seeing himself obliged by them and his own necessity, returned him thereunto this answer.  
If as thou hast hit the right vein Oh my dear friend Mahamut (for so was this Turk called) touching that which thou imaginest of my misfortune, thou couldst hit as right upon its remedy; I should hold myself happy in my lost liberty, and would not change my unhappiness, for the greatest happiness that may be imagined But I wot well, that it is such, that all the World may take notice of the cause whence it proceedeth; but that man cannot therein be found, which dare undertake not only the finding out of any remedy for it, but of giving it any the least ease. And to the end that thou mayst rest thyself throughly satisfied of the truth thereof, I will relate the same unto thee, as briefly and compendiously as I can, shutting up much in a few words. But before I enter into this confused labyrinth of my miseries; I would first have thee to recount unto me, what is the cause why Azam Bashawe my master hath pitched here in this field these Tents and Pavilions, before he maketh his entry into Nicosia, being deputed (and to that purpose bringing his provision with him) to be Viceroy there, or Bashawe, the usevall stile or title which the Turks give their Viceroy's.  
I will (answered Mahamut) answer your demand in a few words; and therefore would have you to know, that it is a custom amongst the Turks, that they who come to be Viceroys of some Province, do not instantly enter into the City where their Predecessor resideth, till he issueth out of it, and leave the residence freely to his Successors. Now when the new Bashawe hath made his entrance, the old one stays without in the field, expecting what accusations shall come against him, and what misdem can ours (during his government) they shall lay to his charge; which being alleged and proved, are recorded, and a note taken of them, all possibility being taken away from him of enterviewing, either to help himself by suborning of witnesses, or by his friends, unless he have made his way before hand, for the clearing of himself. Now the other being settled in his Residence, there is given by him to him that leaves his Charge, a scroll of Parchment sealed up very close, and therewith he presents himself at the gate of the Grand-Signior; that is to say, in the Court before the Grand-Councell of the great Turk; which being seen and perused by the Visir-Bashaw, and by those other four inferior Pashas; they either reward, or punish him, according to the relation that is made of his Residency: In case that he come home faulty, with money he redeems and excuseth his punishment: but if faultless, and they do not reward him (as commonly it falleth out) with gifts and presents, he procureth that Charge which himself most affecteth. For places of command and offices are not given for merit, but for money, all is sold, and all bought. They who have the Provision, (or as we style it, commission and authority for the conferring of charges and offices,) rob those which are to have these offices and charges, and fleece them as near as the shears can go. And they again out of this their bought office, gather wealth and substance for to buy another, which promiseth much more gain. All goes as I tell you, all this Empire is violent, a sign that it will not last long. For that reason then that I have rendered thee, thy master Azam Bashawe hath remained in this field four days; and he of Nicosia, that he hath not as yet come forth as he ought to have done; the cause is, that he hath been very sick, but is now upon the mending hand; and will without fail come forth either to day or to morrow at the farthest; and is to lodge in certain Tents which are pitched behind this rising hill, which as yet thou hast not seen; and thy master is forth with to enter into the City. And having made this already delivered, known unto thee, is all the satisfaction that I can give to your propounded demand.  
Listen then unto me, replied Ricardo; but I know not whether I shall be as good as my word, in complying with that which I formerly promised; that I would in a few words recount unto you my misfortunes, they being so large, that to make up the full measure of them, I want words enough to do it; yet notwithstanding, I will do herein what may be, and as time and your patience will permit.  
But let me first of all ask you, if you know in our town of Trapana, a damosel to whom Fame hath given the name of the fairest woman in all Sicily; in whose praise all curious tongues have spent themselves, and of whom the rarest judgements have ratified, that she was the perfectest piece of beauty that the past age had, the present hath, and that which is to come can hope to have; one of whom the Poets sang, that her hairs were golden wyars, her eyes, two resplendent Suns; and her cheeks, pure damask-roses; her teeth, Pearls; her lips, Rubies; her neck, Alabaster; and that her parts with the whole frame, and the whole with her parts, made up a most pleasing harmony, and most harmonious concord. Nature spreading over the whole composure such a sweet delightfulness of colours, so natural, and so perfect, that envy itself cannot take her in any one particular.  
And is it possible (Mahamut) that all this while thou hast not told me yet who she is, and by what name she is called? I undoubtedly believe, that either thou dost not hear me, or that when thou wast in Trapana, thou didst want thy senses. Mahamut hereunto answered; that if she whom thou hast set forth with such extremes of beauty be not Leonisa, the Daughter of Rodolphus Florenc●…us, I know not who she is; for she alone had that fame which you speak of.  
This is she, oh Mahamut (replied Ricardo) this is she (oh my dear friend) who is the principal cause of all my felicity, and of all my misfortune. This is she, and not my lost liberty, for whom mine eyes have, do, and shall shed tears not to be numbered; This is she, for whom my heartburning sighs inflame the air far and near: And this is she, for whom my words weary heaven, which hears them, and the ears of those which harken unto them. This is she, for whom thou tookest me to be mad, or at least, for a man of small worth, and less courage. This Leonisa, to me a Lioness, and to another a meek and gentle Lamb; is she which holds me in this wretched and miserable estate.  
For I must give thee to understand, that from my tender years, o●… at least, ever since I had the use of reason, I did not only love, but adore her; and did serve her with such solicitude and devotion, as if neither on earth, nor in Heaven there were any other Deity for me to serve and adore, save herself.  
Her kinsfolk and Parents knew my desires, considering withal, that they were directed to an honest and virtuous end. And that therefore, many a time and oft (which escaped not my knowledge) they acquainted Leonisa with the fervent love and affection I bore unto her, for the better disposing of her will to accept me for her Husband.  
But she, who had placed her eyes on Cornelio, the Son of Ascanio Rotulo, (whom you know very well) a young Gallant, neat and spruce, with white hands, and curled hairs, having a melifluous voice, and amorous words at will; and in a word, being all made of Amber, Musk, and Civet, clad in Tissue, adorned with rich embroideries,) would not vouchsafe to cast so much as one glance of her eye on my countenance, which was not so delicate as that of Cornelio, neither would entertain (notwithstanding my best endeavours to please her) with thankfulness, my many and continual services, requiting my good will with disdain and hatred: And to such extremes did the excess of my love bring me, that I should have held my self happy, had her disdains and unkindnesses killed me outright, that I might not have lived to have seen her confer such open, though honest favours on Cornelio. Consider now, being anguished with disdain and hatred, and almost mad with the cruel rage of jealousy, in what miserable case (you may imagine) my soul was, two such mortal plagues reigning therein. Leonisa's Parents dissembled those favours which she did to Cornelio; believing (as they had good reason to believe it,) that the young▪ man attracted by her most exquisite and incomparable beauty (which none could match, but her own) would make choice of her for his Spouse, and so in him gain a richer son in Law, then in me: and well (if he were so) might he be so. But I dare be bold to say, (without arrogacie be it spoken) that as good blood runs in my veins, as his; my quality and condition nothing inferior to his; and for his mind, it cannot be more noble than mine, nor his valour go beyond mine: But that indeed which did over balance me, was Leonisia's favour, and her Parents furthering the business; and this only made the scales uneven, by their inclining to Cornelio.  
Now it so fell out, that persisting in the pursuit of my pretensions, it came to my knowledge, that one day in the month of May last past, which this very day makes up a year, three days, and five hours; Leonisia, her Parents, and Cornelio, and some friends of his, went to solace themselves, accompanied with their kindred, and servants to Ascamo his Garden, near adjoining to the Seaside, in the way that leads to the Salt-pits.  
I know that place passing well (said Mahamut,) go on Ricardo; I was more than four days in one of them, I could have wished I had been there but four minutes.  
I knew that (replied Ricardo) and in that very instant that I knew it, my soul was possessed with such a fury, such a rage, and such a hell of jealousies, and with that vehemency and rigour, that it bereft me of my senses, as thou shalt plainly, by that which I presently see did, which was this.  
I hied me to the Garden where I was told they were, where I found most of the company solasing themselves, and Cornelio & Leonisa sitting under a Walnut-tree somewhat out of the way from the rest. How my sight pleased them I do not know, but know, to say so much of myself, that her sight wrought so upon me, that I lost the sight of mine own eyes; and stood stock still like a Statuaa, without either voice, or motion. But I continued not long so, before that my anger awakened my choler, choler, heated my blood; my blood, inflamed rage; and rage gave motion to my hands, and tongue. Howbeit my hands were bound by the respect which (me'thought) was due to that fair face which I had before me; But my tongue breaking silence, vented forth these words;  
How canst thou find in thy heart, how give thyself content (Oh thou mortal enemy of my rest) in having, (and therein taking so much pleasure) before thine eyes, the cause which must make mine to overflow with rivers of tears; and by my continual weeping, become another Deluge? Come, come, (cruel as thou art) a little nearer, and wreath thy twining Ivy, about this unprofitable trunk, which woos thy embrace. Let him lay his head in thy lap, and let thy fingers learn to play with those breaded locks of this thy new Ganymede; what thou wilt do, do quickly; Make an end at once of delivering up the possession of thyself, to the green and ungoverned years of this your Minion; to the end, that I losing all hope of obtaining thee; may together with that end, this my life, so much by me abhorred.  
Thinkst thou peradventure (thou proud and ill advised damosel) that this young Princox, presumptuous by reason of his riches; arrogant, by your gracing of him, unexperienced, in that he is too young; and insolent by his relying on his Lineage, will love as he ought, and you deserve? No, he cannot, no, he knows not how to love constantly; nor to esteem that which is in estimable, nor come to have that understanding and knowledge, which accompanies ripe and experimented years. If you think so, do not think it; for the World hath no other good thing, save the doing of its actions always after one and the same manner. For none are deceived, but by their own ignorance: In young men there is much inconstancy; in rich, pride; vanity in the arrogant; in the beautitifull, disdain; and in those that have all these, foolishness, which is the mother of all ill success  
And thou (oh young Gallant) art such a one, who thinkst to carry all before thee, and to go clear away with that reward, which is more due to my good desires, than thy idle protestations; Why dost thou not arise from that Carpet of flowers whereon thou liest, and come to take this my soul from me, which so deadly hateth thine? Not because thou offendest me in that which thou dost, but because thou knowest not how to esteem that good which fortune gives thee: and it is clear and evident, that thou mak'st little reckoning of it, since thou wilt not rise up to defend it, that thou mayst not put thyself to the hazard of discomposing that painted composure of thy gay clothes. If Achilles had had thy reposed condition, or been of thy cold temper; Ulysses might very well have been assured, that he would not have gone through with that which he undertook. Go, get thee gone and sport thyself amongst thy Mother's maids, and there have a care of kembing and curling thy locks, and keeping thy hands clean and white; thou art fitter to handle soft silks, than a hard hilted sword.  
All these words could not move Cornelio to rise from the place where I found him, but sat him still looking upon me as one aghast, not once offering to stir. But the voice wherewith I uttered these words which you have heard, occasioned the people which were walking in the garden to draw nearer, stood a little while listening▪ hearing many other disgraceful speeches which I gave him, and thereupon made in; who taking courage by their coming (for all or most of them were his kinsfolk, servants, or friends) he made show of rising; but before he was fully upon his feet, I laid hand on my sword, drew it, and did set not only upon him, but on as many as were there. Leonisa no sooner saw my glittering sword, but she fell into a deadly swound, which did put greater courage into me, and stir up greater despite: and I cannot say, whether those so many which did set upon me, sought only to defend themselves, as we see men usually do against a furious mad man; or whether it were my good fortune and diligence, or Heavens disposing, to expose me to greater evils, and to reserve me to farther miseries. In conclusion, I wounded seven or eight of them which came next to my hand; Cornelio betook himself to his heels, and by his swift flight escaped my hands.  
Being in this so manifest a danger hemmed in by my enemies, who now (seeing their blood run from them, and enraged with the wrong which they had received) sought to revenge themselves upon me: Lo Fortune provided a remedy for this mischief, but such a one as was worse than the disease; for better had it been for me there to have left my life, then in restoring it me by so strange and unexpected a means, to come to lose it every hour a thousand and a thousand times over and over. And this it was; That on the sudden there rushed into the garden a great number of Turks, Pirates of Viserta, who with two Galleys had put into a little Creek of the Sea, between two rocks hard by the shore, where they disimbarked themselves without being heard or seen by the Sentinels of the Watch-Towers, nor discovered by those scouts, whose daily office it was to scour the Coasts, and see that all was clear. When my adversaries had espied them, leaving me alone; they, with the rest in the garden; ran their way as fast as their legs would carry them, and shifted so well for themselves, that they had got themselves out of their danger, and put themselves in safety. So that of all the whole companies, the Turks took no more Captives, but three persons besides Leonisa, who lay there still in a swound. They took me after they had shrewdly wounded me in four several places, revenged before by me on four Turks whom I left dead in the place.  
This assault ended, the Turks with their accustomed diligence, and not being very well pleased with the success; made haste to embark themselves, and presently put farther to sea, so that what with their sails, and help of their Oars, in a short space they recovered Fabiana; where they mustered their men, and finding that the slain were four soldiers, Levant-men (as they call them,) being of the best and choicest, and of most esteem amongst them, they were the more willing and desirous to take their revenge of me. And therefore the Admiral of the Captaine-galley commanded them to hang me up on the main yard. All this while Leonisa stood looking on this speedy preparation for my death, (who was now come again to herself) and seeing me in the power of these Pirates, the tears trickled down in great abundance from her beauteous eyes, and wring her soft and delicate hands, not speaking so much as one word; gave diligent ear, and was very attentive to hear if she could understand what the Turks said. But one of the Christian-slaves that was chained to the Oar, spoke to her in Italian, giving her to understand how that the Captain had given order to have that Christian hanged up (pointing unto me) because I had slain in her defence, four of the best soldiers belonging to his Galleys. Which being heard and understood by Leonisa; (being the first time that ever she showed herself pitiful towards me) she willed the said slave that he should speak unto the Turks to spare his life, and not to hang him; for in so doing they would lose a great ransom, and that he should advise them to tack about, and make again for Trapana, where his ransom would presently be brought aboard unto them. This I say was the first, and the last kindness which Leonisa used towards me, and all this for my greater ill. The Turks hearing what their Captive told them, did easily believe him; and this their hope of profit, turned the course of their choler. The very next morning hanging out a flag of peace, they anchored before Trapana. That night thou mayst better conceive than I utter, with what a deal of grief I passed it over; not so much for my wounds sake, though they were very sore and painful, as to think on the peril wherein my cruel enemy was amongst these Barbarous people. Being come now as I told thee to the City, one of the Galleys entered the Haven, the other stood off. All the Citizens flocked to the seaside, the Christians standing as thick one by another, as the shore would give them leave. And that Carpet-knight Cornelio stood afar off observing what passed in the Galley, whilst my Steward was treating of my ransom; to whom I had given order that he should in no wise treat of my liberty, but of that of Leonisa: and that he should give for the freeing of her, all whatsoever I was worth, either in lands, or goods. And I willed him moreover, that he should go a shore and tell Leonisa's Parents, that they should leave it to him to treat of their Daughter's liberty.  
This being done, the chief Captain who was a Grecian, but a Renegado, his name Ysuph, demanded for Leonisa, 6000 Crowns, and for myself four thousand, and that he would not sell the one without the other; setting this so great a prize (as I was given afterwards to understand) because he was enamoured of Leonisa, and was therefore unwilling she should be redeemed; purposing to give to the Captain of the other Galley (with whom he was to share the one half of the prize) myself at the rate of 4000 Crowns in ready money, and 1000 more in other commodities, which made up 5000, prising Leonisa at other 5000. And this was the reason why he rated us two in ten thousand Crowns. Leonisa's Parents offered him nothing on their part, relying on the promise which on my part my Steward had made them; neither did Cornelio so much as once open his lips to offer any thing towards her ransom. And so after many demands and answers, my Steward concluded the business, with giving for Leonisa 5000, and for me 3000 Crowns. Ysuph accepted this offer, forced thereunto by the persuasions of his companion, and all the rest of their Soldiers. But because my Steward had not so much money in Cash, he entreated only three day's time to make up the full sum, with intention to sell my goods under hand, and at a cheap rate, till he had got so much together as would pay the ransom. Ysuph was glad of this, thinking with himself in the mean while to find some occasion that the bargain might not go forward; and so returning back again to the Island of Fabiana, he said, that by that time the three days were expired, he would not fail to be there with them, to receive the money according to the agreement.  
But spiteful and ungrateful Fortune, not yet wearied out with ill entreating me; had so ordained it, that a Galley's boy who sat on the top of the mast, as the Turks Sentinel discovered afar off at Sea, six Italian Galleys, and did guess (which was true) that they were either of Malta, or Sicily. He came running down with all the haste he could to give them news thereof; and in a trice the Turks embarked themselves, who were a shore, some dressing their dinner, some washing their linen; and weighing anchor in an instant, hoisting sail, and working hard with their Oars, turning their Prows towards Barbary; in less than two hours, they lost the sight of those Galleys, and so being shadowed with the Island, and covered from ken by the approaching night, they were secured from that fear which affrighted them.  
Now I leave it to thy good consideration (my friend Mahamut) how much my mind was troubled in this voyage, finding it to fall out so cross and contrary to that which I expected: and much more, when the next day the two Galleys reaching the Island of Pa●…tanalea on the South part, the Turks went a shore to get them wood, and fresh victuals; but most of all, when I saw both the Captain's land, and fell to sharing between them in equal proportion all those prizes they had taken, each action of these, was to me a delayed death. Coming then at last to the dividing of myself, and Leonisa; Ysuph gave to Fetala, (for so was that Captain of the other Galley called) six Christians, four for the Oar, and two very beautiful boys, both naturals of Corso, and myself likewise with them, that he might have Leonisa for himself. Wherewith Fetala rested very well contented. And albeit I were present at all this, I could not understand what they said, though I knew what they did; neither had I known then the manner of their sharings, if Fetala had not come unto me and told me in Italian; Christian thou art now mine, and put into my hands (as my Captive) thou being rated at two thousand Crowns; if thou wilt have thy liberty, thou must give me 4000, or resolve here to end thy days▪ I then demanded of him, whether the Christian damosel were his too, he told me no, but that Ysuph▪ kept her fob himself, with intention to make her turn Moor, and then▪ marry her. And therein he said true; for one of the Galley slaves told me, that sat chained on his bank at his Oar, and understood very well the Turkish language, that he overheard Ysuph and Fetala treating thereof. Whereupon I came to my master and told him, Sir; if you will bring●… the business so about that the Christian damosel may become your Captive, I will give you ten thousand Crowns in good gold for her ransom. He replied, it was not possible; but I will acquaint Ysuph with this great sum which thou offerest for her freedom: and perhaps, weigh●…ing the profit he shall reap thereby, he will alter hiopurpose, and accept of the ransom. He did so; and then presently commanded all those of his own Galley to embark themselves as soon as possibly they could, because he would go for Tripoli in Barborie, whence he was. And Ysuph likewise determined to go for Viserta; and so embarked with the self same haste as they use to do when they ken either Galleys which they fear, or Vessels which they mind to rob. And that which moved them to make the more haste, was; that they saw the weather began to change, with manifest signs of a storm.  
Leonisa was on land, but not there where I might see her, save only at the time of her embarking, where ●…ee both met at the seaside. This her new lover led her by ●…e hand, and setting her foot upon the plank which reached from the land to the Galley; she turned back her eyes ●…o look upon me, and mine, which never were off from ●…er, looked wishly on her, but with such tenderness; that without knowing how such a cloud was cast before them, that it took away my eyesight; and being robb●…d of it▪ and of my senses, I fell in a swound to the ground. The like they▪ afterwards told me befell Leonisa; for they saw her fall from the plank into the Sea, and that Ysuph leapt in after her, and brought her out thence in his arms. This was told me by those of my master's Galley whereinto they had put me, I not knowing how I came there.  
But when I came again to myself, and saw myself alone in that Galley, and the other steering a contrary course, and gone clean out of sight from us, carryings away with them the one half of my soul, or (to say 〈◊〉) all of it; my heart was clouded anew, and I begun an●… to curse my misfortune, and called out aloud for death. And such, and so great was the moan and lamentation▪ I made, that my master's ears being offended there 〈◊〉▪ threatened with a great cudgel, that if I did not hold my peace, he would severely punish me▪ Whereupon I: ●…sed my tears, and smothered my fig●…es, thinking 〈◊〉 violent restraining of them, would break out the more forceably in some one part or other, and open a door to let my soul out, which I so earnestly desired, might relinquish this my miserable body. But froward Fortune not contenting herself to have put me into this so narrow a straight, took a course to overthrow all, by taking from me all hope of remedy; for in an instant, the storm we so much feared overtook us, and the Wind which blew strongly from the South, blew full in the teeth of us; and began with such fury to reinforce itself, that we were forced to tack about, putting the Prow in the Poops p●…ce, suffering our Galley to go which way the wind ●…ould carry her.  
Our ●…aptaines design was, by fetching of boards, to have pu●… into some part of the Island for shelter; and more particularly, on the North part thereof: but it fell not out answerably to his expectation, but rather quite contrary to what he had designed; for the wind charged us with such impetuousness, that all that which we had sailed in two days, within little more than fourteen hours, we saw ourselves within two Leagues or thereabout of the same Island from whence he had put forth; And now there was no remedy for hindering our being driven upon it, and not to run ourselves upon some sandy-shoare, but amongst very high Rocks, which presented themselves to our view, threatening inevitable death to our lives.  
We saw on the t'one side of us, that other our fellow Galley wherein was Leonisa, and all their Turks, and Captive-rowers labouring hard with their oars, to keep themselves off as well as they could from running upon the Rocks. The like did we in ours, but with better success (it should seem) and greater force and strength than the other; who being tired out with their travail, and overcome by the stiffness of the wind, and blustering storm; forsaking their Oars, and with them abandoning themselves, they suffered themselves (we looking upon them) to fall amongst the Rocks, against which the Galley dashing itself, was split in a thousand pieces.  
Night was then drawing on, and so great was the cry of those that gave themselves for lost; and the fright of those who in our Vessel feared to be lost, that not any one of those many things which our Captain commanded, was either understood, or done by them; only they did attend the not foregoing of their Oars, plying them still, holding it for their best remedy to turn the Prow to the Wind, and to cast two Anchors into the Sea to keep off death for a while, which they held to be certain. And although the fear of dying was general in all of them, yet in me was it quite contrary; for fed with the deceitful hope of seeing her in that other World, who was so lately departed out of this; every minute that the Galley deferred its drowning, or splitting against the Rocks, was to me an age of a more painful death. The high swollen waves which passed over the top of our weather beaten Vessel, and my head; made me very watchful to see whether or no, I could espy floating upon those crump shouldered billows, the body of unfortunate Leonisa.  
But I will not detain myself now (O Mabamut) in recounting unto thee piece by piece, the passions, the fears, the anguishs, the thoughts, which in that tedious and terrible night I had, and passed; that I may not go against that which before I propounded, and promised, in relating briefly unto thee my misfortune. Suffice it, that they were such and so great, that if death had come to me at that time, he needed not to have taken any great pains in taking away my life.  
Day appeared, but with appearance of a far greater storm than the former; and we found that our Vessel lay riding out at Sea, and a good ways off from the Rocks. And having descried a point of the Island, and perceiving that we might easily double it, both Turks, and Christians began to be of good cheer, taking new hopes, and new hearts unto them, fell anew to their work, in six hours we doubled the point, and found the Sea more calm and quiet; insomuch, that with a great deal more ease, they could handle and use their Oars; and coming under Lee of the Island, the Turks leapt out to land, and went to see if there were any relics remaining of the Galley which the night before fell on the Rocks. But even then too would not Fortune be so favourable unto me, as to give me that poor comfort which I hoped to have had of seeing Leonisa's body in these my arms; which though dead and broken, I would have been glad to have seen it, for to break that impossibility which my star had put upon me, of linking myself therewith, as my desires well deserved. And therefore entreated one of the Renegadoes to dis-embarke himself to go in search thereof, and to see if the rolling of the Sea had cast her on the shore. But (as I told thee) all this did Heaven deny me; and just in that very instant the Wind began to rise, and the Sea grow rough, so that the shelter of that Island was not of any benefit at all unto us.  
Fetala seeing this, would not strive against Fortune, who had so violently persecuted him; and therefore commanded them to right and fit the Galley to bear a little sail, & to turn the Prow to the Seaward, and the Poop to the Wind-ward; and he himself taking charge of the Rudder, sat at the helm, suffering her to run through the wide Sea; being well assured that no impediment would cross its course: The Oars bore themselves very eeven, being seated very orderly on their banks, and all the rest of the company got them into the Hold underneath the Hatches, so that there was not a man to be seen on the Deck, save the Master; who for his more safety, caused himself to be bound fast to his seat, giving thence direction to the Rowers, for the better governing and guiding of the Vessel; which made its way with that swiftness, that in three days, and three nights, passing in sight of Trapana, of Melazo, and Palermo, she imboked by the Pharos of Mecina, to the wonderful fear of those that were in her, and of those likewise which behold them on the land.  
In fine, not to be tedious in recounting unto thee the terribleness of this tempest, which is beyond all expression, I say; that being weary, hungry, and tired out with such a large compass about, as was the rounding of almost all the whole Island of Sicily, we arrived at Tripoli in Barbary; where my master (before that he had reckoned with his Levant-men, shared out the spoils, and given that unto them which was their due, and a fifth to the King, as the custom is;) fell sick of a Pleurisy, accompanied with a burning Fever in that violent manner, that within three days it sent him packing to hell.  
The King of Tripoli seized presently upon all his goods; and the Alacade de los muertos, which is an Office of Inquirie concerning the dead, substituted by the great Turk; who as you know, is heir to those that are his natural Subjects after their deaths. These two possessed themselves of all my Master Fetala's wealth, and I fell into the hands of him who was the Viceroy of Tripoli; and within fifteen days after he received his Patent for Cyprus, with whom (you see) I am come hither, but without any intention at all to ransom myself, though he hath often told me that I should if I would, and wondered why I did not do it all this while, being (as Fetala's Soldiers told him) a principal person, and a man of good means in his own Country. But I was so far from entertaining that motion, that I told him, that they had misinformed him of my fortunes. And if thou wilt (Mabamut) that I acquaint thee truly with what I think; Know thou then, that I will never return back again to that place, where I can no ways receive any comfort, and where Leonisa's death will in part, if not wholly be imputed unto me. What pleasure then can I take, either there, or here▪ in this my thraldom, though I must confess, that the remembrance of her loss is more grievous unto meethen a thousand Captivities. And if it be true, that continual sorrows, must of force have an end, or end him who suffers them; mine cannot choose but do it, for I am resolved to give them such a loose reine, that within a few days, they shall give an end to this my miserable life, which I hold so much against my will.  
This (O my brother Mahamut) is my sad success; This is the cause of these my sighs and tears; Behold now and consider, if this be not sufficient for to hale the one from out the deepest bottom of my bowels, and to exhale the other from out my afflicted and tormented bosom? Leonisa is dead, and with her my hope; and though that which I had (she living) hung but by a small and slender thread; yet, yet, and with this yet, his tongue clavae so close to the roof of his mouth, that he could not speak one word more, nor refrain from weeping, whose tears, drop after drop, one overtaking another, trickled down his face in such abundance, that the ground was all wet whereon they fell. Mahamut, accompanied those with his tears.  
But this Parosisme being overpast, caused by relating this sad story, and calling to mind his lost Leonisa; Mahamut was very willing, and withal went about to comfort him all that he could, with as good terms and persuasions as possibly he could devose. But Ricardo did cut him short of telling him.  
That which thou ar●… (my dear friend) to do, is; that thou wil●… advise me, what course I shall take forto fall into disgrace with my master, and with all those with whom I shall converse, that being hated and abhorred by him, and by them▪ the one and the other might ill entreat me, and persecute me in such sort▪ that adding sorrow to sorrow, I may speedily obtain that which I so earnestly desire, which is to end my life.  
Now I find that to be true (said Mahamut) which is commonly spoken▪ L●… qu●… sa●…e senti●…, see sa●… dezir. He that knows his grief, knows how to speak it▪ though sometimes it so happeneth that it maketh the tongue dumb. But howsoever it be, (whether thy sorrows reach to thy words, or thy words out go thy sorrows) thou shalt ever (Ricardo) find me thy true friend, either for assistance, or for counsel. For albeit my few years, and the inconsiderateness which I have committed, in putting myself into this habit, may cry out against me that of neither of these two things which I offer thee, thou mayst have any confidence, or hope; yet will I endeavour to them utmost of my power, that this suspicion may not prove true, nor any such opinion be held for certain. And albeit thou wilt not neither be advised, nor assisted by me, yet will I not leave off doing that which shall be fitting and convenient for thee; as good Physicians use to deal with their sick patients, who do not give them that which they crave, but what they think convenient for them to have.  
There is not any in all this City, that can do, or prevail more than the Cadi my Master; no, not even thine, (who comes to be Viceroy thereof) is so powerful as he. This being so as it is, I dare be bold to say, that I am the man that can do most in this City, because I can do whatsoever I will with my Master. I speak this, because it may be I shall so plot the business with him, and bring it so handsomely about, that thou mayst come to be his; and being in my company, time will teach us that which we are to do, as well for to comfort thee, if thou wilt or canst be comforted; as likewise for myself to get out of this, to a better life; or at least, to some place where it may be more safe when I leave this. I kindly thank you (Mahamut) replied Ricardo for your proffered friendship, though sure I am, that when thou hast done all thou canst do, thou canst not do any thing that can do me any good.  
But let us now give over this discourse, and make towards the Tents; for if my eyesight deceive me not, I see a great press of people coming out of the City, and doubtless it is the old Viceroy, who comes forth into the field for to give place unto my Master, that he may enter the City, to make his Residence. It is even so, said Mahamut, come along with me Ricardo, and thou shalt ●…ee the Ceremonies wherewith they receive him, for I know thou wilt take pleasure in seeing them. With a very good will answered Ricardo; for peradventure I shall have need of thee; if happily the Guardian of my Master's Captives should happen to meet with me, who is a Renegado, and by birth of Corso, but of no very pitiful and tender bowels.  
Here they left off any farther communication, and came to the Tents just at that very instant as the old Bashawe came thither; and the new one came forth to receive him at the door of the Tent. Ali Bashaw, (for so was he called who left the government) came accompaied with all the janissaries, being the ordinary garrison Soldiers in Nicosia, ever since the Turks were masters of it, being to the number of five hundred. They came in two Wings or Files; the one with their Muskets, and the other with naked Simyters. They came to the Tent of the new Bashaw Hazan, rounding it from one side at the door thereof, till they met at the other; where Ali Bashaw bowing his body, made a lowly reverence to Hazan; and he with a less inclining himself, resaluted him.  
This done Ali presently entered into Hazan's Pavilion, where the Turks presently mounted him upon a proud Horse, with wondrous rich furniture; and conducting him round about the Tents, and a good part of the field, clamouring out with loud acclamations in their own language; Long live Solyman Sultan, and Hazan Bashaw in his name: They repeated this very often, reinforcing their voices and vociferations, and then presently returned back again to the Tent, where Ali Bashaw remained; who with the Cadi and Hazan, shut themselves up close for the space of one hour all alone▪ Mahamut then told Ricardo, that they had thus retired themselves, to treat of that which was fit to be done in the City, touching such businesses as were commenced, but not finished by Ali. Within a little while after the Cadi came forth to the door of the Tent, and said with aloud voice in the Turkish, Arabic, and Greek tongue; That all they who would enter to crave justice, or to ●…ay any other matter against Ali Bashaw, might have free entrance: for there was Hazan Bashaw, whom the Grand Signior hath sent for Viceroy of Cyprus, who would do them all right and justice. This licence being given, the janissaries left the door of the Tent disoccupied, and gave way to such as would enter in; Mahamut wrought Ricardo to go in with him, who for that they were Hazans slaves, had without any hindrance free access thereunto.  
There entered to crave justice, some Greeke-Christians, and some Turks, but all of them charging him with such trifling things, and of so small moment; that the Cadi dispatched most of them, without giving a Copy to the Defendant, without further examination, demands, and answers. For all causes, unless they be matrimonial, are dispatched in an instant, more die the judgement of a good understanding man, than the quercks of Law. And amongst these Barbarians (if they be so in this particular) the Cadi is the competent judge of all Causes, who doth abbreviate them, and determine them in the turning of a hand; and forthwith pronounceth sentence without any appealing there●…ro, to any other Tribunal.  
In this interim, entered in a Cha●…z, which is as it were an Alquazil, and said; That there was a jew at the Tent door, who had brought to be sold a most fair and beautiful Christian; the Cadi commanded that they should bid him come in: The Cha●…z went forth, and presently came in again, leading the way to a venerable ●…ew, who ●…ed by the hand a Woman in a Barbary habit▪ so well made and set forth, that the richest Moor in Fez, or Morocco, was not able to compare therewith; for in her whole dress throughout, she surpassed all the African women; yea, though even those of Argier's should have presented themselves there with all their Pearls and rich embroideries. She came in, having her face covered with a scarf of Crimson Taffeta; about the smalls of her legs (which discovered themselves) there appeared two golden chains of pure burnished gold; and on her arms, which likewise through a smock of Cendall, or thin Taffata-Sarcenet, were transparent, and showed themselves to the searching curious eyes of the beholders; she beware two bracelets of gold, wherein were set scatteringly here and there, many fair Pearls and precious Stones. In conclusion, the fashion of her clothes, and all other habiliments about her were such, that she presented herself before them, most richly and gorgeously attired.  
The Cadi, and the other two Bashaws upon the very first sight of her, being mightily taken; before any other thing was said or questioned by them, they willed the jew, that he should take the scarf from off the Christians face; He did so, and withal did discover such a splendour, and such a beautiful countenance, as did dazzle the eyes, and glad the hearts of all the standers by▪ As the Sun scarved with clouds, after much darkness, offers itself to the eyes of those who long for its desired presence; such, and no otherwise then such was the beauty of this Captived Christian, in this her bravery and gallantry.  
But he, on whom this wonderful light which was discovered, wrought the greatest and deepest impression, was this our sorrowful Ricardo, as one who better than any other knew her, since that she was his cruel and beloved Leonisa, who so often and with so many tears, had by him been reputed and deplored for dead. With the sudden and unexpected sight of the singular beauty of this Christian, the heart of Ali was wounded and captivated▪ and in the same degree, and with the self same wound Hazan found himself touched; the Cadi himself not being exempted from this amorous wound, who more perplexed than both the other, knew not how to remove his eyes from looking on those fairer lights of Leonisa. And for to endear the great and powerful force of Love; I would have thee to take notice, that at one and the same instant there was bred in the hearts of all these three, one and the same (as they flattered themselves) firm hope of obtaining and enjoying her. And therefore without questioning how, where, and when the jew came by her, they only asked him what he would take for her? The covetous jew answered, two thousand Crowns. But he had scarce set the prize, but that Ali Bashaw said unto him, that he would give him so much for her; and that he would go to his Tent, and presently bring him his money.  
But Haz●…n Bashaw, who was minded that he should not have her, though therein he should hazard his life; said, I likewise will give for her those two thousand Crowns which the jew demandeth; yet would I neither give so much, neither set myself to cross Ali herein, or what he hath offered, did not that enforce me thereunto; which he himself shall confess is reason, and doth obliedge and force me to do as I do, and this it is; That this gentile slave appertaineth not to either of us two▪ but only to the Grand-Signior; and therefore I say, that in his name I buy her: Now let us see who dare be so bold as to offer to take her from me.  
Marry that dare I, replied Ali; because for the self same end and purpose do I buy her: and it appertaineth more especially unto me, to tender this present to the Grand-Signior, in regard of the conveniency that I have to convey her forthwith to Constantinople; carrying her along with me, that thereby I may gain the good will of the Grand-Signior. For I being now a man (as thou now Hazan seest) without any charge or command, I had need seek out some means to procure it, wherein thou art surely settled for three years, sinoe that this is the very first day in which thou beginnest to bear rule, and to govern this rich kingdom of Cyprus. And therefore, as well for these reasons, as that I was the first that offered the propounded prize for her; it stands with all reason (O Hazan) that thou leave her unto me. Nay rather it is more fitting, and will be better taken at my hands (replied Hazan) to procure her and send her to the Grand Signior; since that I do it without being moved thereunto out of mine own private interest, or expectancy of profit. And whereas you allege the commodiousness and conveniency of carrying her along with you; I will set forth a Galley of mine own well armed, putting thereinto men of mine own, some servants, some slaves, which shall serve for her Convoy, and go along with her. At these words Ali's blood began to rise, and rising upon his feet, he laid his hand on his Cimyter, saying; Hazan, my intentions being the same, for the presenting and carrying of this Christian to the Grand-Signior, and I having been the first chapman that drove the bargain; it is grounded upon all reason and justice, that thou leave her unto me; and if thou shouldst but think to carry her from me, this Cimyter which I lay my hand on shall defend my right, and chastise thy presumption.  
The Cadi, who was attentive to all that past between them, and burned no less in Love's flames then the other two, fearing lest he might go without the Christian; bethought himself how he might quench this great fire which was kindled between them; and withal, to get the Captive into his own custody, without giving any the least suspicion of his damnable intention. And therefore rising up, he interposed himself between them, and said; Hazan, and Ali, let me entreat you both to be quiet, and lay aside these your differences; and I doubt not but I shall be able to compose them in such sort, that both of you may effect your intentions, and the Grand-Signior be (as you desire) well served by you.  
To these words of the Cadi, they presently showed themselves obedient, and had he commanded them a greater matter, they would have done it; (so great is the respect which those of that sect bear to his grey hairs.) The Cadi then prosecuting what he had begun in this manner.  
Thou Ali sayest, that thou wouldst have this Christian for the Grand-Signior; and Hazan he says the like: Thou allegest, that thou wast the first in offering the demanded price for her, and therefore she ought to be thine. Hazan contradicts thee in this; and though he doth not put his argument so home to the pinching point; yet I find it is the same as thine is; that is, the same intention, which without all doubt was hatched as so one as thine was, in his desire and willingness to buy the Slave for the same effect; only thou got'st the start of him, in having first declared thyself, yet ought not this to be a cause that he should absolutely and wholly be defrauded and frustrated of his good desire. And therefore in my opinion, it shall not be amiss to accord this business between you, in this form and manner following; That both of you shall have equal interest in this Slave, and since that the use of her is to be at the will and pleasure of the Grand-Signior, for whom she is bought, it belongeth unto him to dispose of her. In the mean while, you Hazan shall pay two thousand Crowns; and Ali shall lay down the other two thousand, and the Captive shall remain in my power, to the end, that in both your names I may send her to Constantinople, that neither of you might remain unrewarded; and can certify (as being an eye witness) your forwardness to gratify the Grand-Signior; and therefore offer myself to send her thither at my cost and charge, with that authority and decency which is due to him, to whom she is sent. Writing to the Grand-Signior, acquainting him with all that which passed here, and your readiness to do him this service.  
These two enamoured Turks, neither knew, nor could, nor would contradict him; each of them forming and imagining in his mind a hope (though doubtful) of promising to themselves the attaining to the end of their inflamed desires. Hazan, who was to continue Viceroy of Cyprus, thought upon giving great gifts to the Cadi, that being thereby overcome and obliged, he should deliver up unto him the Captive. And Ali he imagined to do some such act as should assure the obtaining of what he desired, and each of them holding his own design the best, and the surest; they easily condescended to what the Cadi had propounded, and with a joint consent both of them delivered her up presently unto him, and made each of them present payment to the jew 1000 Crowns a piece: But the jew said he would not part with her upon those terms, if they meant to have into the bargain her wearing apparel, and her jewels, which he valued at 1000 Crowns more. And in very deed they could be little less worth, because in her hairs which partly hung dishevelled on her shoulders, and partly knit up in curious knots on her forehead, there appeared some ropes of pearls, which very gracefully were interwoven with them. The bracelet about her arms, and above her ankles in the small of the leg were likewise full of great pearls; her raiment throughout was very rich, and thereon a mantle after the Moorish manner of green Satin deeply fringed and embroidered with gold.  
In a word, it seemed to all that were there present, that the jew had undervalved the attyring of her. And the Cadi, that he might not show himself less liberal than the two Bashaws, told him, he would pay him those thousand Crowns, because he would have her to be presented in the same dress (which she was now in) to the Grand-Signior. The two competitors did approve very well of it, each of them believing that all should fall out as they would have it.  
I want now words significant enough to tell you what Ricardo thought, in seeing his soul set out thus to open sale; and those thoughts which then came into his head, and those fears which suddenly surprised him; when as he saw that his finding of his beloved Pledge was to lose her the more; He knew not for a while, whether he were sleeping or waking, not believing his own eyes, in giving credit to that which they had seen. For it seemed unto him a thing impossible, that they should see so unexpectedly before them, those eyes of hers which he had (not long since) given to be shut up in eternal darkness.  
When he saw that this was no phantasma or dream, but a real truth; he came to his friendly Mahamut, and whispering him in the ear, said softly unto him; Friend, dost not thou know her? Not I said Mahamut; Then would I have thee know, (replied Ricardo) that it is Leonisa: How (answered Mahamut) what is that Ricardo, thou sayest? That (said Ricardo) which thou hast already heard. Hold thy peace then, and do not discover her, replied Mahamut, for Fortune goes now so ordering the business, that thou shalt find her good and prosperous, since that she is in my Master's power. Dost thou think it fit, said Ricardo, that I go and put myself in some such place where I may be seen by her? No, by no means, replied Mahamut; lest she should put you, or you her into some sudden passion; and have a great care that you do not give any the least sign or token that you know her, or that ever you had seen her; for if you should do so, it might redound much to the prejudice of my design, if not utterly overthrow it. I will follow your advice, answered Ricardo, and so went his way, leaving the place, lest his eyes might encounter with those of Leonisa; who held hers all the while that this passed nailed to the ground, trilling some tears down from them.  
She being thus (as you have heard) rendered up unto the Cadi he came unto her, and laying hands on her, delivered her unto Mahamut, commanding him to carry her to the City, with charge to deliver her to his Lady Halima; and to tell her withal, that she should use and entreat her well, as being the slave of the Grand-Signior. Mahamut did so, and left Ricardo all alone, who with his eyes went following this his Star, till it was wholly taken out of his sight, and covered as it were with a cloud from him by the walls of Nicosia. Having lost her, he goes to look out the jew, finds him; and coming civilly unto him, asked him where he had bought this Captive Christian, and how, and in what manner she came into his hand. The jew made him answer, that he lighted on her in the Island of Pantanalea; and that he bought her of certain Turks, whose Galley had suffered wrack, being split there against the Rocks. And being willing to have gone on in the prosecution of what he had begun, it received interruption, and was wholly broken off by one that came from the Bashaws, telling the jew that he must come away presently unto them who had purposely sent for him; that they might demand that of him, which Ricardo was so desirous to know, and thereupon he abruptly took his leave.  
In the way, which was between the Tents and the Town, Mahamut took occasion to ask Leonisa (speaking unto her in Italian) whence she was, and of what place? Who made him answer, that she was of the City of Trapana: Then Mahamut demanded again of her, whether she did know in that City, a rich and noble Gentleman, called Ricardo? At her hearing him named, Leonisa fetched a deep sigh, saying; Too too well to my hurt. How, to your hurt? replied Mahamut. Because he knew me (said Leonisa) to his own, and my unhappiness. But I pray tell me (quoth Mahamut) Did you know likewise in the said City another Gentleman of a gentile disposition, the Son of very rich Parents, and himself in his own person very valiant, very liberal, and very discre●…t, called Cornelio? I likewise know him (said Leonisa) and I may say much more to my hurt than Ricardo.  
But I pray Sir who are you, who know these two, and ask me of them? I am (said Mahamut) of Pa●…ermo, and by various accidents in this disguise and different habit from that which I was wont to wear. I know them passing well, for it is not many days since that they were both in my power. For certain Moors of Tripoli in Barbary had taken Cornelio Captive, and sold him to a Turk, who brought him to this Island, whether he came with Merchandise, (for he is a Merchant of Rhodes) who had trusted Cornelio with all his goods. And he will keep them well, (said Leonisa) because he knows so well to keep his own.  
But tell me Sir, how, or with whom Ricardo came to this Island? Marry he came (answered Mahamus) with a Pirate who took him prisoner in a Garden near the sea-shoare of Trapana; and that together with him, he had Captivated a damosel, but I could never get him to tell me her name. He abode here some few days with his Master, who was to go to visit Mahomet's Sepulchre, which is in the City of Almedina: But just at the time of his departure, Ricardo fell so extreme sick, that his Master left him with me (for that I was his Countryman,) to the end, that I might use all the best means for his recovery, and take care and charge of him, till his return; and in case that he did not return hither, that I should send him unto him to Constantinople, whereof he would advertise me when he came thither.  
But Heaven had otherwise ordered it, since that unfortunate Ricardo without having any accident or simptome of a dangerous sickness, within a few days ended those of his life; making often mention of one Leonisa, whom (as himself told me) he loved more than his own life, and was as dear unto him, if not dearer than his own soul. Which Leonisa (as he at large related unto me) suffered shipwreck at the Island of Pantanlea, the Galley wherein she was, being split upon the Rocks, and herself drowned, Whose death he continually lamented, and with much weeping bewailed, till that his mourning had brought him to breathe his last; for I perceived no sickness at all in him in his body, but great shows of grief and sorrow in his soul.  
Tell me (Sir) replied Leonisa; this other young man whom you speak off, in those his discourses which he had with you; which (for that you were of his own Country) could not but be very many, did he not at any time speak of Leonisa? And did he tell you, how she, and Ricardo were made Captives, and the whole manner of it? Speak of her (said Mahamut) yes a thousand, and a thousand times; and asked me many a time and oft, whether any Christian of this name had of late been brought to this Island, and with such and such marks and tokens, and how glad he would be to hear any tidings of her, that he might ransom her. And withal I must tell you, that he had told his Master, and in telling, made him believe that she was not so rich as he took her to be; and for that he had enjoyed her, he might now make the less reckoning of her; and that if three or four hundred Crowns would purchase her freedom, he would willingly give so much for her, because heretofore he had borne some good will and affection towards her.  
Very little (said Leonisa) must that his affection be, which would not go beyond four hundred Crowns. But Ricardo is more liberal, more valiant, more generous, and ingenious, then to make so poor an offer, for that which he prized at so high a value. God pardon the party that was the cause of his death; for it was I that am that unhappy woman whom he bewailed for dead; and God knows, if I should not be glad with all my heart that he were alive, that I might requite his kindness, and that he might see how sensible I should be of his misfortune, who hath sor●…owed so much for mine.  
I Sir (as I have already told you) am she, who is as little beloved of Cornelio, as I was greatly bewailed of Ricardo; She, who by very many and various chances am come to this miserable estate wherein I now find myself; and though it be so dangerous (as you see) yet have I always by Heavens gracious assistance, kept mine honour entire and untouched, wherewith in this my misery I live contented. But now (woe is me) neither do I know where I am, nor who is my Master, nor whether my contrarious fates will hurry me. Wherefore I beseech you Sir, by that blood which you have in you of a Christian, that you will give me your best counsel and advise in these my troubles; which for that they have been many, though they have made me look about and be somewhat the more wary and circumspect; yet notwithstanding, such and so many every moment came upon me, that I knew not well how to prevent and withstand them.  
Whereunto Mahamut answered, that he would do all whatsoever he was able to do, in serving, advising, and assisting her with his best wit and strength. And then did he advertise her of the difference between the two Bashaws for her sake, and how that she now remained in the power of the Cadi his Master, for the conveying and presenting her to the great Turk, Selim, at Constantinople. But rather than this should take effect, he hoped in the true God, in whom he believed, (though a bad Christian) that he would dispose otherwise of her; advising her withal, that by bearing herself fairly, she should work and insinuate herself into Halima's favour and good opinion, Wife to the Cadi his Master, in whose power she was to remain till they should send her to Constantinople; acquainting her withal, with Halima's conditions and qualities; and besides these, told her many other things which might make much for her good, holding talk and discourse with her all the way, till he had brought her to, and left her in the Cadi's house, and in the power of Halima, to whom he delivered his Master's message. The Moor, for that she saw she was so well clad, and so beautiful, gave her a very kind and friendly welcome. Mahamut having rendered up his charge into Halima's hands, returned back to the Tents, to recount unto Ricardo what had passed betwixt himself, and Leonisa; and meeting with him, told him all, point by point, from the beginning to the ending. But when I came to tell him how sorrowful Leonisa was, when I signified unto her, that he was dead, the water stood in his eyes: I told him how I had feigned that counterfeit story of Cornelio's being a Captive, to see how she would take it; I acquainted him with her coldness to Cornelio, and the bad conceit she had of him for his undervaluing her. All which was as a sovereign cordial to Ricardo's afflicted heart; Who said unto Mahamut.  
There comes now into my mind (friend Mahamut) a tale which my Father told me, who (you know) how curious he was; and have heard (I am sure) what great honour the Emperor Charles the Fifth did him, whom he still served in honourable places in his Wars: I tell you that he told me, that when the Emperor was at the Siege of Tunez and took it, together with the Fort Goleta; being one day in the field in his Tent, they presented unto him a Moor, as a singular rarity for her beauty; and that at that very time wherein they presented her unto him, entered in certain beams of the Sun at the one side of the Tent, and rested on the hairs of the Moor, which seemed to stand in competion with those of the Sun, being between red, and yellow, resembling the colour of golden Wyars; A rare and strange thing amongst the Moors, with whom your black hairs are in greatest esteem and request. He told me likewise, that on that occasion, there were in the Tent, amongst many other, two Spanish gentlemen, both very discreet, and both Poets; the one of Andaluzia, the other of Catalunia. The former having taken a view of her, vented certain verses, which they call Coplas, ending in rhyme; but being at a stand when he had uttered five of his verses; the other gentleman (seeing him stick, and that he could go no further to make an end of what he had begun, for want of words which on the sudden did not offer themselves to his liking,) who stood close by him, and had heard these his Verses, went presently on where he left, adding instantly five other to the former. And this presented itself unto my memory, when I saw that most beautiful Leonisa enter the Bashaws Tent; not only out shining the beams of the Sun, should they have lighted on her, but even Heaven itself, with all its stars.  
Hold (said Mahamut) no more, lest (friend Ricardo) thy tongue run riot, for at every word thou utterest, I am afraid thou wilt pass so far beyond the bounds, of not only reason, but religion, in the praise and commendation of thy fair Leonisa, that leaving to seem a Christian, thou wilt be taken for a Gentile Let me hear those verses or Coplas, or what else you please to call them, that we may afterwards talk of other things that may be more pleasing, and perhaps more profitable. In good time (said Ricardo) but let me once again advertise thee that the Andaluz vented the first five verses, and the Catalan the other five, both extempore, and these they be.  And. 

" Whilst I behold thy glittering golden hayre●…,  
" Disheveled thus, waving about thy ears,  
" And see those locks thus loosed and undone,  
" For their more pomp to sport them in the Sun,  
" Love takes those threads, and weaves them with that Art,   Cat. 

" He knits a thousand knots about my heart,  
" And with such skill and cunning he them sets,  
" My soul lies taken in those lovely ●…ets.  
" Making me cry, fair pris●… th●… dost hold  
" My heart in fetters wrought of ●…nisht gold.   
I like them well (said Mahamut) but much better (my Ricardo) that you are in this good humour of repeating verses, because the saying 〈◊〉 making of them requireth the minds of men that are disapass●…nated▪ Men likewise use (replied Ricardo) to wail over Hearses, as to sing verses, both are verse.  
But laying this aside, tell me what thou mindest to do in this our business? for though I understood not what the Bashaws treated in the Tent, till thou hast carried away Leonisa; a Renegado of my Master a Venetian told me all, who was then present, and understood the Turkish language very well. And therefore above all things it is most needful and requisite to set our wits a work, and seek out some plot to prevent Leonisa's coming to the hands of the Grand-Signior.  
That which is fittest first of all to be done (answered Mahamut) is that thou come to be in the power of my Master. This being effected, we will afterwards consult on that which shall convene best for us. Whilst they were thus talking, came the Guardian of the Christian Captives belonging to Hazan, and carried Ricardo away with him.  
The Cadi returned with Hazan to the City, who in a few days dispatched Ali's Residency▪ and gave it him rolled up and sealed, that he might carry it along with him to Constantinople. He taking his leave, prepared forthwith to let forward on his journey, being very instant with the Cadi, that he would hasten the sending of the Captive, and withal write his Letters to the Grand-Signior in his favour, for the better furthering of his pretensions: the Cadi promised him he would, but with treacherous bowels which were almost turned into ashes, so were they set on fire by the inflamed love which he bore to the Captive.  
Ali being gone full of false hopes, and Hazan abiding behind not void of them; Mahamut so brought the business about that (Ricardo came into the power of his Master. Hours and days ran on, the time passed away and the longing desire to see Leonisa, did so press and wring Ricardo, that he could not take one poor short minute of rest.  
Ricardo changed his own name into that of Mario, because his might not come to Leonisa's ears, before that his eyes had seen her. And for to see her was very hard and difficult; for that the Moors are extremely jealous, and keep covered from all men the faces of their women; howbeit they do not much mislike the showing of them to Christians, which happily may be; because being Captives, they do not reck on them for men, but slight them as contemptible creatures.  
Yet one day it so happened, that the Lady Halima saw her slave Mario; and in seeing him took such a good liking of him, that he remained deeply engraven in her heart, and strongly fixed in her memory. And peradventure taking little contentment in the cold and weak embracements of her aged husband, she the more easily gave way to this her evil desire. And with the like easiness she acquainted Leonisa therewith, whom she now dear loved, and made exceeding much of, for her sweet behaviour, and discreet carriage; and likewise showed her great respect, for that she was to be sent for a rarity to the Grand-Signior. She acquainted her, how that the Cadi had brought and received into his house a Christian Captive, of so gentle an aspect, and comely presence; that in her eye, he was the handsomest man that ever she saw in her life: and that they said he was a Chilibi, that is to say a Gentleman, and Countryman to Mahamut, their Renegado; and that she knew not how to give him clearly to understand the good will and affection which she bore unto him; fearing lest that the Christian should slight and neglect her, for declaring and manifesting her love unto him at the first sight, before she had further and better knowledge of him.  
Leonisa asked her what was the Captives name: Hamila told her Mario: to whom Leonisa replied; if he be a Gentleman, and of that place they say he is, certainly I should know him; but of this name (Mario,) I do not remember that there is any such in Trapana. But if it shall stand with your Ladyship's pleasure that I may but see him, and talk a while with him, I shall be able to inform you both who he is, and what may be hoped from him; It shall be so said Halima, and on Friday next, when as the Cadi shall be at the Mezquita, performing those Rites and Ceremonies which are then and there required in their devotions, and adorations; I will take occasion to call him in hither, where leaving you two together, you may talk alone by yourselves; and if you think fit, you may give him some inkling of my desires, and well wish towards him, and that you will do me this friendly office in the best manner your wit and discretion can devise, of both which I have had already sufficient trial, and therefore need not to express myself, or press you any farther in this particular.  
This Halima said to Leonisa, and within less than two hours after, the Cadi called Mahamut, and Mario unto him, and with no less efficacy than Halima had discovered her heart to Leonisa, did this enam oured old young man discover his to his two slaves, craving their council and advise, what course he should take for to keep the Christian to himself, and enjoy her; and yet comply with the Grand Signior whose she was: telling them withal, that he would rather die a thousand deaths, then deliver her up once to the great Turk.  
With such affection did this Moor express his passions, that they left a deep impression and belief in the hearts of his two slaves; whose thoughts were fully bend to run a contrary course to that which he imagined. He thought one thing, and they another; in the end, it was concluded between them, that Mario, as being a man of her own Nation and Country (howbeit he had told him that he knew her not) should take in hand the soliciting her, and in declaring his fervent affection: And in case that by his fair means he could not prevail and procure her good will, he should then use force, she being now in his power: and this being done, to give out that she was dead, and so he should excuse his sending of her to Constantinople.  
The Cadi rested wonderful well contented with this devise of his slaves, and out of the great joy which he had imagined to himself, he instantly gave Mahamut his liberty; be queathing besides unto him after his death, the one half of his goods. He likewise promised Mario, if he procured that which he so earnestly desired▪ not only his liberty, but good store of Crowns, wherewith he should return home to his own Country, rich, honoured, and contented.  
If he were liberal in promising, his Captives were prodigal, offering to hale down the Moon from Heaven, to do him service, how much more easily to draw Leonisa to the bent of his Bow, and to condescend to his desire; so as Mario by his leave might have the conveniency offered him of speaking with her. I will give him free leave of access unto her, answered the Cadi, even as often as he will himself, if that will advance the business. For I will so order it, that Halima shall go hence to the house of her Parents, who are Greeke-Christians, where she shall stay some few days, or longer time (if need be;) and she being abroad, I will command my Porter that he suffer Mario to enter into the house, and to have free ingress and egress, as oft as he pleaseth. And I will tell Leonisa, that she may (if it please her) talk and converse with her Countryman.  
Thus did the wind begin to chop about of Ricardo's misfortunes, blowing with a gentle gale in his favour, his Master not witting which way he meant to shape his course. This appointment being made and concluded on between these three; the first that laid this plot was Halima, showing herself a right woman, whose nature is facile, and whose wit quick, and sudden, for the effecting of that which she hath a mind unto; especially if her heart be eagerly set upon it. That very self same day, the Cadi came to Halima, and told her, that she might when she would go out of the Town to visit her Father and Mother, and make merry with them, and the rest of her good friends; and to stay there as long as she listed, or till he sent for her. But because her heart was overjoyed with those good hopes which Leonisa had given her; she not only would not go to her Parent's house, nor yet to that feigned Paradise of Mahomet: and therefore told him, that at this time she had no great mind to go thither, When she had, she would acquaint him therewith; but whensoever she went, she would carry the Captive Christian along with her. O by no means (replied the Cadi,) for it is not fit, that this Pledge of the Grand-Signior should be seen of any; besides, it would do her more hurt than good to converse with Christians, since that you know, that when she comes into the power of the Grand-Signior, she must be shut up in the Seraglio, and turn Turk whether she will or no. But if she go along with me, replied Halima, it mattereth not much that she be in my Parent's house, nor that she converse with them, with whom myself couverse much more, and yet I cease not for all that to be a good Turk. Besides, the longest time that I mean to spend with them in their house, shall be at the farthest, but four or five days; for the great love which I bear unto you, will not give me leave to be any longer absent, and not see you. The Cadi made no reply, that he might not give her occasion to breed some suspicion or other in her, of his intention.  
Whilst this business was a brewing, Friday came, and he went to the Mezquita, from whence he could not come forth in almost four hours; and Halima had scarce seen him put his foot over the threshold of his house, but she commanded Mario to be called for to come unto her; but a Christian of Corsica would not suffer him to enter, who was then Porter and waited at the gate of the outward Court; if Halima herself had not called out aloud unto him that he should let him come in. And so he entered, but much troubled, and trembling, as if he had been to fight with a whole army of enemies.  
Leonisa was in the same dress and attire as when she entered the Bashaws Tent, sitting at the foot of a curious stayr case of polished Marble, which led the way up to a large and spacious gallery rounding the whole house; her head hung downward towards her bosom, resting itself on the palm of her right hand, and leaning her elbow on her knee, her eyes were turned another way quite contrary to the door by which Mario entered; so that though he went towards the place where she sat, yet did she not see him.  
No sooner was Ricardo let in, but he walked through the whole house with his eyes, yet could he not perceive any thing save a dumb and still silence, till that he cast his eye aside where Leonisa sat: Instantly whereupon, so many thoughts took hold on enamoured Ricardo, as did work in him both amazement and gladness, conceiting himself to be a thousand paces and more distanced from his happiness and contentment. He considered likewise with himself that he was a Captive, and his glory in another's power revolving these things with himself, he made towards her by a little and a little, and with a fearful love, a joyful sadness, and timorous courage, (for such passions accompany true lovers) he came by degrees to the Centre where his heart's joy was, when by chance Leonisa turned her head aside, and fixed her eyes on those of Mario, who looked very steadfastly on her.  
But when both their looks had thus encountered each other, by different effects gave evident signs of that which their several souls felt within. Ricardo stood stock still and could not stir one foot further; and Leonisa, who upon Mahamuts relation gave Ricardo for dead, and to see him now and that so unexpectedly alive, full of fear, and amazement, without unfixing her eyes, or turning her back, she stepped up backward four or five stairs, she blest herself as if she had seen some phantasma, or a thing of another World.  
Ricardo returned from out his astonishment, and knew by that which Leonisa did, the true cause of her fear, and therefore said unto her; it grieves me to the very soul, (oh of all fair, the fairest Leonisa) that the news did not fall out true which Mahamut gave thee of my death, for by it I might have excused those fears which now I have, in thinking with myself whether that rigour which heretofore thou hast used towards me, continue still in the same force and being? Quiet yourself (dearest in my love) and come down again, and if you dare do that which hitherto you never did, which is; to draw near unto me, come and touch me, and thou shalt see that I am no fantastical body, no wand'ring ghost; I am Ricardo (Leonisa) that unfortunate Ricardo whom thou hast made so.  
Whilst he was speaking this, Leonisa puts her finger upon her mouth, whereby Ricardo understood that it was a sign that he should be silent, or speak more softly: and taking a little better heart unto him, he drew a little nearer unto her in such a distance, that he might hear these words come from her. Speak lower (Mario) for so me thinketh thou now callest thyself, and treare not of any other thing now, save what I shall treat with thee; and consider withal that it may so happen that if we be over heard, we shall never see one another any more: I verily believe that Halima our Mistress listeneth to hear, if not heareth us; who (to deal plainly and briefly with thee) hath told me that she adores thee, and hath entreated me to be the intercessoresse of this her desire: if thou wilt answer her wishes, it will be better for thy bodi●… then thy soul. But if thou wilt not, yet must thou feign that thou dost embrace her love; as well because I entreat thee so to do, as also for that the declared desires of a Woman ought not uncivilly to be despised and utterly rejected.  
Hereunto Ricardo answered, I did never think nor ever could imagine (fairest Leonisa) that there was that thing whatsoever which you should entreat me to do, that should bring with it an impossibility of complying therewith: but that which you now require of me, hath dis●…deceived me: Is peradventure man's will so light, that it may be moved too and fro, and carried hither and thither, whether the pleasure of others shall guide and direct it? or doth it stand with the honour and faith of a Gentleman, or with the repute of an honest man, to feign and dissemble in things of such weight and high a nature as this is? If it seem good unto you, that any of these things in this kind aught to be or may be done; do that which shall be most pleasing in your own eyes, because you are the sole Mistress of my will. But I now know that you likewise deceive me in this, since that you never rightly knew my will, and therefore know not how to dispose thereof; but because you may not say that in the first thing you commanded me, you should not be obeyed; I will lose somewhat of myself, and of being what I ought to be, I will satisfy your desire, and that of Halima (as you say) feignedly, so that I may thereby gain the happiness to see you. And therefore do you feign my answers to your own good liking, for from hence forth my feigned will doth ●…irme, and confirm them. Now in requital of this office which I do for you, which is in my opinion the greatest that ever I can or shall be able to do, though I should give my soul anew unto you, which I have so often given you; I beseech you, that you will briefly tell me, how you escaped from the hands of the Pirates, and how you came to those of the jew, who so lately sold you.  
The story of my misfortunes (answered Leonisa) require more leisure than time will now permit to relate, yet notwithstanding I will not leave you wholly unsatisfied. Know then, that the same very evening we parted, Yzuph's Galley was with a stiff and strong wind driven to the same Isles of Pa●…tanalea, where we likewise saw your Vessel; but ours, we being not able to hinder it, ran remedilessly upon the Rocks. My Master then having his destruction before his eyes, and that there was little or no hope of safety left; with all possible haste emptied two Hogsheads which were full of water, then stopped up the bung-holes very close, and having bound the one to the other with good strong cords, he seated me between them; that done he presently stripped himself, and taking another Hogshead, spreading his arms over it, and binding a rope about his middle, causing the same to be fastened to the Casks whereon I sat bound, with great courage he rushed into the Sea, towing me after him. I had not the heart to rush in after him, which one of the Turks seeing, pushed me forward with all his force, and sent me packing after Yzuph, where I lay without any sense, nor came again to myself, till I found myself on Land in the arms of two Turks; who bowing my head and body towards the ground, held me so a pretty space, all that while great store of salt-water which I had swallowed down, coming forth at my mouth.  
At last I opened mine eyes, but as one amazed, and looking about, who should I see, but Yzuph lying by me with his brains beaten out against the Rocks when he had almost recovered the shore, where he ended his life. This I afterwards understood by the Turks; and they likewise told me, that taking hold of the Cord, they drew me on Land, without receiving any further harm than what I mentioned before unto you; of all the whole company, only eight persons escaped drowning. Eight days we abode in the Island, the Turks using me with as much respect as if I had been their Sister, if not more. We kept ourselves close in a Cave, the Turks fearing that if they should be espied, the Christians which had the command of the Fort which is in the Island, would sally forth upon them and take them Captive. They sustained themselves with wet biscuit which the Sea had cast upon the shore from out the broken bins of the Galley, which they went forth to gather up by night that they might not be discovered.  
Fortune had so ordered it for my great ill, that the Fort was without a Captain, who died but a few days before; and in all the Fort there were not above twenty soldiers. This we came to know by a youth which was captivated by the Turks, who came down from thence to gather Cockles by the Seaside. At the eight day's end, there arrived on that Coast a Vessel of the Moors, which they call Caramucales; the Turks saw its coming in, and that they lay at Anchor a little off the Land and so made towards them, making such signs to the Vessel which was not far off, that they who were in her knew they were Turks that called unto them. Thereupon they sent out their Cockboat, and they recounted unto them their distress, and they received them into their Bark wherein came an exceeding rich jew▪ a Merchant; and all the lading of the Vessel, or the most part of it was his, being fraughted with Carpets, and Hides, and other commodities which they bring from Barbary, to the Levant. In the said Vessel the Turks went for Tripoli, and in that Voyage they sold me to the jew for two thousand ducats, an excessive prize, if his love towards me had not made him so liberal, which the jew afterwards discovered unto me.  
Leaving the Turks after all this in Tripoli, the Vessel tacked about to perform her Voyage, and the jew in most impudent manner fell to soliciting of me; but I showed him such a countenance as his filthy desires deserved. Seeing himself then in despair of obtaining his lustful ends, he resolved to rid himself of me upon the first occasion that should offer itself unto him. And it coming to his knowledge that the two Bashaws, Ali, and 〈◊〉 were in this Island, where he might sell and vent his Merchandise as well as in X●…o whither he was bound; he came hither with intention to sell me to one of the two Bashaws; and for this cause put me into this dress and wear wherein you now see me, for to affectionate them the more unto me who should buy me.  
I am given to understand that this Cadi hath bought me, with purpose to carry me for a Present to the Great-Turke, whereof I am not a little afraid. Here I came to know thy feigned death; and I must now tell thee if thou wilt believe me, and believe me thou mayst, that it grieved me to the very soul, and that I did more envy than pity thee; yet not out of any ill will that I bore unto thee, though I did not answer thy love according to thy expectation, (for I shall never be ingrateful and dis-respective, where I have found so much love and respect) but because thou hadst then made an end of thy lives Tragedy.  
Dear Leonisa, answered Ricardo, you say not amiss herein; if death had not hindered the happiness of my coming again to see you, esteeming more this instant of glory which I enjoy in seeing you; then any other happiness (saving that which is eternal) which either in life, or in death, might assure unto me my desire.  
The Cadi now my Master, into whose power I am come, by no less various accidents than yours, bears the like ●…ervent affection unto you, as Halima doth to me; he hath made choice of me to be the interpreter of his thoughts. I entertained the motion, not for to do him any pleasure thereby, but that I might gain the commodity and convenienci●… of speaking with you; to the end that you may see (Leonisa) to what hard terms our misfortunes have brought us; you to be the means of working an impossibility (for you know my mind touching the motion you made unto me) and me to be likewise set a work about such a business as I lest dreamt of, and for which I would give, rather than obtain it, my life which now I esteem according to its high worth and value, since that it hath had the happiness to see you.  
I know not what to say unto thee Ricardo, replied Leonisa, nor how we shall be able to get out of this intricate labyrinth, whereinto (as thou say est) our hard fortune hath brought us; only I know to say thus much, that we must be driven in this business to use that which is contrary to our condition, and hateful to honest minds; to wit, dissembling, and deceit. And therefore say unto thee, that I will acquaint Halima with some such words delivered by thee, that shall rather entertain her with hopes, then drive her to despair. Thou likewise shalt say of me to the Cadi that which thou shalt think most convenient for the securing of mine honour, and the deceiving of him. And since that I put mine honour into thy hands, thou mayst assure thyself that it is yet as true and entire as ever; though the many ways which I have gone, and the many assaults which I have endured might call it into question, though you nor any else without great injustice, can make the least doubt of it. For our speaking and conversing each with other, will be (by their means) most facile and easy: always presupposed, that you never once open your mouth, nor treat aught with me, which shall any way appertain to your declared pretention; for in what hour you shall do that, in the same you shall take your leave of seeing me any more. For I would not have thee think that my value is of so little worth, and of so few quilates, that Captivity shall work that with me, which liberty could not do. I will be (by heaven's favour) like gold, which the longer it is in the Chrysoll, comes forth thence the purer, and the finer: rest satisfied and content thyself with that which I have already said unto thee, lest the very sight of thee should (as it hath done heretofore) cause a distance in me, if not a loathing. For I would have thee to know (Ricardo) that I always held thee to be too rough and arrogant, and to presume somewhat more of thyself then was fitting. I confess likewise that I may be deceived; and it may be that making this trial of thee, experience will set the truth before mine eyes, and tell me I was deceived; and being put out of this error, I may be more kind, but never less honest: go get you gone, for I fear me Halima may have overheard us, who hath some understanding of our Christian language; at least of that mingled speech which is used, whereby we all understand one another.  
You say very well (Mistress of my heart) answered Ricardo, and I infinitely thank you, and take in exceeding good part this dis-deceiving which you have given me; and make as high esteem thereof, as of the favour you do me in suffering me to see you. And as you say experience peradventure will make known unto you how plain and downright my condition is, and how meek and humble my disposition, especially for to adore you; and had you not put a bound and limit to my carriage and treating with you, yet should it have been so fair and so honest towards you, as you cannot wish or desire to have it better.  
Touching that which concerneth the entertaining of the (adi, take you no care of that, leave it to me, do you the like with Halima. And by the way, I would have you (Lady) to know, that since I have seen you, there is bred in me such a strong hope and confidence; as assureth me that it shall not be long before we procure our desired liberty, and so God have you in his keeping; at another time, and better leisure, I shall relate unto you the revolutions, the turnings and windings by which fortune hath brought me to this estate, after that she had put us a sunder and severed me from your sight: with this they took their leaves each of other, Leonisa remaining well contented and satisfied with Ricardo's plain proceeding, and he the most joyful man in the world, that he had heard one word from Leonisa's mouth without tartness.  
Halima had shut up herself in her oratory, praying to her prophet Mahomet, that Leonisa might bring her a good dispatch of that business which she had recommended unto her. The Cadi, he was in the Mezquita, recompensing with his desires those of his wife, they keeping him very solicitous, as wholly depending on the answer which he hoped to hear from his Slave, to whose charge he had committed his talking with Leonisa; and that he might better come to have some speech with her, Mahamut should afford him opportunity, though that Halima were in the house.  
Leonisa increased in Halima her lewd lust and filthy desire, by giving her very good hopes that Mario would condescend to her will, and do whatsoever she would command him. But telling her withal, that she must have patience till two Moons were first passed over; before which time he could not comply with that which he much more desired then herself. And this term he entreated of her▪ that he might make his prayers and supplications unto God, for the freeing of him from his Captivity, and restoring him again to his former liberty. Halima contented herself with the excuse and relation of her beloved Ricardo, whom she would free from his slavery, before the deputed time, so as he would accomplish her desire. And therefore entreated Leonisa, that she would treat with him, and see if she could work him to dispense with the said time, and to cut off all delays; and she would furnish him with as much money as the Cadi should require of him for his ransom.  
Now before that Ricardo returned are answer to his Master, he consulted with Mah●… what answer he should make him; and they agreed between them to tell him, that the case was desperate, 〈◊〉 hope of winning her, and that as soon as possibly he could, he should carry her away to Constantinople; and that in the way thitherward, either by fair means, or by force obtain his desire. And as touching the inconvenience which might offer itself for his complying with the Grand-Signior, he should do well to buy him another Slave; and in the voyage to feign and cause it to be given out that Leonisa was fallen sick, and making our advantage of a dark night, we may cast the bought Christian overboard into the Sea, saying; that it was Leonisa, the Captive of the Grand-Signior that was dead▪ and that may be done, and should 〈◊〉 in such manner that the truth thereof should never be discovered, and so remain blameless with the Grand-Signior, and fulfil his own will; and that for the continuation of his pleasure, they would afterwards devise some donvenient course, that should make all safe and sure.  
This poor man, this old Cadi, his love to Leonisa made him so blind, that had they 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a thousand other greater unlikelihoods (so as they were directed to the fulfilling of his hopes) he would have believed them all, how much more when it seemed unto him, that all which they said, was good and 〈◊〉, and in a very saire way, promising prosperous success. And so indeed it might have proved, if the intention of these his two counsellors had not been to make themselves Masters of the Vessel; and to make an end of him, and his foolish thoughts together.  
But another difficulty offered itself to the Cadi, which in his own opinion was greater than all the rest; it running still in his heat that his wife Halima would not let him go to Constantinople, unless he would carry her with him. But presently they did facilitate that, telling him, that in stead of the Christian which they were to buy, and must die and be turned overboard instead of Leonisa, Halima would serve excellently for that purpose, and none better, of whom he desired to be freed more than from death. With the same facility as he entertained this in his thought, with the like, did Mahamut, and Ricardo, yield thereunto.  
And being firmly resolved thereon, that very day the Cadi breaks with Halima about the voyage which he thought to make to Constantinople, to carry the Christian to the Grand-Signior; by whose liberality, he hoped he should he made the great Cadi of Cayro, or of Constantinople. Halima told him that she liked very well of his determination, thinking that he would leave Ricardo at home. But when the Cadi had certified her that he would carry him along with him, and likewise Mahamut; she began to change her opinion, and to dis-advise him from that, which before she had advised him to do. In fine, she concluded, that if he did not take her with him, she would in no hand give way to his going. The Cadi would not cross her, but if she would needs have it so, her will should be his; thinking then with himself that he would quickly shake off that yoke, which lay so heavy on his neck.  
All this while Haz●… Basham was not careless in soliciting the Cadi to deliver up the Slave unto him, offering him mountains of gold, having besides given him Ricardo before for nothing, whose ransom he prized at two thousand Crown●…▪ All these gifts and promises wrought no further good with the Cadi, then to make him hasten the more his depar●… and so solicited by his desire, and by them importunities of Haz●… together with those of Halima, who likewise build vai●… hopes in the ●…yre.  
Within 〈◊〉 days he had fitted and rigged up a 〈◊〉 of fi●… 〈◊〉 thanks, manning it with voluntary Soldiers, lusty young able men, partly Moores, partly Greek Christians. Therein he embarked all his wealth, and 〈◊〉 left not aught a●… home in her house of any moment, and entreated her husband that he would give her leave ●…o carry with her, her Father and Mother, that they might see Constantinople. Halima's intention was the same with that of Manamut; meaning to deal with him and Ricardo, that when they were on their voyage, they should make themselves Masters of the Bregantine, and go away with it. But she would not open her mind, nor declare herself unto them, till she saw herself embarked; and this too with with a full purpose and resolution to go to the Christians Country, and to return to that Religion which she had first been of, and to be married to Ricardo; being verily persuaded, that carrying such store of wealth along with her; and turning Christian, he would not refuse to take herto wife.  
In this interim, Ricardo had speech with Leonisa, and declared unto her his whole intention; and she again acquainted him with Halima's purpose, who had imparted the same unto her They enjoined each other secrecy, and recommending themselves to God, they stood expecting the day of their departure. Which being come, Hazan went forth, accompanying them with all his Soldiers to the Seaside; and did not leave them, till they had hoist sail; neither did he take off his eye from the Bregantine, till he had quite lost the sight of it. And it seemed that the Air, and breath of those sighs which the enamoured Moor vented forth, did fill and drive forward with greate●… force the sails, which wasted away his soul.  
But he, as one who a long time lived in such torment, oppressed by love that he could take no rest, thinking on that which he was to do, that he might not die by the hands of his violent desires; omitted not ●…o put that presently in execution, which with long deliberation and a resolute determination, he had forecasted. And therefore in a Vessel of seventeen banks which he had made ready in another Port, he clapped into her fifty Soldiers, all his friends and acquaintance, whom he had obliged unto him by many gifts and promises; giving them in charge, that they should put forth to Sea, set upon, and take the Cadi's Bregantine, and all the wealth that was in her, putting to the edge of the sword as many as went in her, save Leonisa the Captive, for she was the only spoil that he looked after, prising her above all the other riches and treasure which were in the Vessel. He likewise gave order that they should sink her, so that not any one thing might remain, that might give any the least sign or token of their perdition.  
The covetousness of the spoil added wings to their feet, and courage to their hearts; howbeit they knew very well that they should find but little resistance in those of the Bregantine, in regard that they were disarmed, and without any the least suspicion that any such unexpected accident should befall them. Two days had the Bregantins' now gone in her intended course, which to the Cadi seemed two Ages; for the very first day of all, he would feign have put in execution his determination: But his Slaves advised him, that the business must first be so carried that Leonisa should fall sick, to give thereby some colour to her death, and that this would require some days of sickness. He did not like of that, but would have it given out that she died suddenly, and so quickly make an end of what they had projected, by dispatching his Wife out of hand, that he might allay the hear of that fire, which by little and little went consuming his bowels. But in conclusion he must condescend to that, which the other two thought fit.  
Now in this mean while, Halima had declared her intent to Mahamut, and Ricardo, and they were ready to put it in execution, as soon as they had doubled the points of Alexandria, or passed by the Castles of Anatolia. But the Cadi was so hasty with them, and so sharp set, that they promised to perform the task they undertook, upon the first occasion that should offer itself unto them. And one day at the end of six, which they had sailed another Voyage, and that now it seemed to the Cadi, that the feigning of Leonisa's sickness was sufficient, he did importune his Slaves that they should conclude the next day with Halima, and throw her (wrapped up in a winding sheet) into the sea, saying; it was the Captive of the Grana-Signior.  
The day afterwards began to break, wherein (according to the intention of Mahamut, and Ricardo) was to be the accomplishment of their desires, or the end of their days; when lo, they might descry a Vessel, which with sail and oar came chase them. They were afraid that they were Christian Pirates, from whom neither the one nor the other could expect any good. For being such, the Moors feared to be made Captives; and the Christians, that though they should get their liberty, they should lose their goods, and be stripped of all they had. But Mahamut and Ricardo contented themselves with Leonisa's, and their own liberty; yet notwithstanding this imagined hope, they much feared the insolency of your Rovers at Sea, for they that follow such kind of exercises, and make a common trade thereof, be they of what Religion or Nation so ever, they usually are cruelly minded, and of an insolent condition.  
They prepared to defend themselves, without forsaking their oars, and doing all that might be done in such a case of necessity, and so sudden. It was not long, a matter of two or three hours, little more or less, that they drew nearer and nearer, till they came within Canon-shot of them. Seeing this, they struck sail, loosed their Oars, betook themselves to their Arms, and expected their coming.  
Howbeit, the Cadi bid them be of good cheer, and fear nothing, for the Vessel was Turkish, and would not do them any harm. He commanded that a white flag in token of peace should presently be set up, placing it on the yard▪ sail of the Poop, because they might the better discern it, who being already blinded with covetousness and greediness of gain, made up with great fury to board the ill defended Bregantine.  
Whilst this was in acting, Mahamut by chance turned his head aside, and perceived that from the Westward there was a Galley coming up, and to his thinking of some twenty banks, whereof he certified the Cadi; and some Christians which wrought at the Oar, said, that the Vessel they had descried, was of Christians. All which did but double their confusion and fear, holding them in suspense, not knowing what to do; fearing and hoping such success, as God should be pleased to give them.  
By this time I conceive that the Cadi would have given (being in that strait that now he was) to have found himself again in Nicosia, all the hopes of his pleasure, so great was the confusion and amazement wherein he was, though he were quickly put out of it by that first Vessel, which without respect to the Flag of peace, or that which was due to their religion, did set upon that of the Cadi with such force and fury, that they wanted very little of sinking it. The Cadi presently knew those that had thus set upon them, for his eyes gave him assured notice that the Soldiers were of Nicosia. He soon guessed the cause of their coming, and by whom set a work, and gave himself for a lost and dead man: and had it not been that the Soldiers gave themselves more to the spoil, than the slaughter, not a man of them had escaped alive.  
But when they were most busy about their pillaging; a Turk cried out aloud unto them saying, Arm, arm (fellow Soldiers) for a Vessel of Christians is coming upon us. And he had good reason to say so, because the Vessel which Cadi's Bregantine descried, bare Christian flags, and very fiercely did set upon that of Hazan; but before they came to grapple with her, one from the Prow demanded of them in the Turkish language what vessel that was, and whence? They made answer, that it was Hazans the Bashaw, Viceroy of Cyprus. Why then (replied the Turk) you being Musoliman's have set upon and robbed this vessel wherein we know goes the Cadi of Nicosia? Whereunto they answered, that they knew no other cause, save that they were commanded to take her; and that they as being his Soldiers, in obedience unto him had done his command.  
The Captain of the second vessel who came in a Christian disguise; resting satisfied with that which he desired to know, fell off from that of Hazan, and made towards that of the Cadi; and with the very first volley of shot he gave them, he killed ten of those Turks that were in her; and presently after entered her with great courage and speed. But they had scarce set their feet on the hatches, but Cadi instantly knew that it was not a Christian that had thus set upon him; but Ali Bashaw who was in love with Leonisa, who with the same intent as Hazan, stood waiting his coming; and that he might not be known, had clad his Soldier's line Christians, to the end that by this devise, his theft might not be discovered.  
The Cadi, who knew the intentions of these Lovers, and traitors, began in a loud voice to vent his malice, saying; what is this thou dost, (thou Traitor Ali Bashaw) that thou being a Musolimam, that is to say, a Turk, settest upon me as a Christian? And you Traitors, Hazans Soldiers, what a Devil hath moved you to commit so great an outrage? for that to fulfil the lascivious and lustful appetite of him who sent you hither, will thus go against your natural Lord.  
Upon these words of his, all of them silenced their Arms, no more clattering was heard; and looking one one upon another, they came at last to know each other, because they had all of them been Soldiers of one and the same Captain, and served under one and the same banner. And being now abashed at the Cadi's word, ●…nd ashamed of their own bad act; the points of their Cimiters were blunted, and the edges of them dulled, their courages were q●…elled▪ and their minds mightily dismayed. Only 〈◊〉 shut his eyes, and ears, to all that he saw, or heard; and falling upon the Cadi, he gave him such a cut in the head, that if the blow had not been borne off by a hundred yards of Calico wrapped about it, doubtless he had cleft his head asunder, yet it struck him down between the banks of the Vessel; and being fallen, the Cadi said: O cruelt Renegado, enemy of our Prophet, and is it possible, that there is none that will chastise thy cruelty, and this thy great insolency? How, (accursed as thou art) durst thou presume to lay hands and draw thy sword against thy Cadi, and a minister of Mahomet?  
These words added force, to force, and more fuel to the former fire; the which being heard by Hazans Soldiers, and moved with fear that Ali his Soldiers would take their prey from them (which they held yet to be theirs) they determined to put all upon adventure; and one beginning first, and all the rest following after, they set upon the Soldiers of Ali with such haste, rancour, and courage; that in a little while they behaved themselves so manfully, that though they were more by many then they, they reduced them to a very small number; but they which remained of them, took heart unto them, leaving 〈◊〉 four of Hazans men alive, and those very sorely wounded.  
Ricardo, and Mahamut stood looking on, who ever and anon put their heads out of the scupper-holes of the Poop cabin, to see what would become of this great fray, which on both sides was so hotly pursued. And seeing that the Turks were in a manner all slain, and they that were alive, sore wounded, and how easily they might make an end of all of them, he called to Mahamut, and two kinsmen of Halima whom she had wrought to embark themselves with her, that they might assist in going away with the Vessel, and with their help, and her fathers, taking up the Cimiters of the slain, they showed themselves upon the Deck, crying out, Liberty, Liberty; and being aided by the Voluntaries who were Greek Christians, with a great deal of ease, and without receiving any one wound, they cut the throats of them all; and boarding Ali's Galley, which they found without defence, they took it, with all that was therein. Of those that died in the second encounter, one of the first was Ali Bashaw, whom a Turk in revenge of the Cadi ran through the body.  
Being now Masters of all the three Vessels, they consulted what was now best to be done▪ in the end they yielded to Ricardo's advice, which was, that they should take out all things that were of any price or value, both in their own, and Hazans vessel, and stow them in Ali's Galley, which was a vessel of far greater burden, and fitter to take in the lading, and make good their voyage; and the rather, for that the Rowers were Christians, who resting well contented with their recovered liberty, and with many other good things which Ricardo liberally shared amongst them, offered to carry him to Trapana, and if need were, even to the end of the World.  
This being thus ordered, Mahamut and Ricardo full of joy for this their good success, went to the Moor Halima, and told her, that if she would return to Cyprus, they would man her own vessel with good valiant Voluntaries, and give her the one half of the goods which she had embarked. But she, who notwithstanding this so great a calamity, had not yet lost that itching love, and amorous affection which she bore to Ricardo, told him; that she would go with him to the Land of Christians, whereof her Parents were wondrous glad.  
The Cadi was by this time come to himself, and having dressed and bound up his wound, as their haste and the place would permit; they likewise told him that he should make choice of one of these two, either to go with them to the Land of Christians, or to return in the same Vessel he set forth to Nicosia. Whereunto he answered, that since his ill fortune had brought him to such bad terms, he would rather accept of the liberty which they gave him, and that he would go to Constantinople, and make his complaint to the Grand-Signior, of the great and grievous wrong which from Hazan, and Ali he had received. But when he knew that Halima would leave him and turn Christian, he was almost ready to run mad.  
In conclusion, they man'd his own Vessel, and furnished him with all things necessary for his voyage, and gave him some Chequines, of those which once had been his own. And so having taken his leave of all of them, being resolved to return to Nicosia, he besought before he had hoist sail, that Leonisa would do him the favour to embrace him; for that grace and honour she therein should show him, would of itself be sufficient to make him forget all his misfortune. All of them entreated Leonisa to confer that favour on one that loved her so well, since in so doing, she should not go against the decorum and decency of her honesty. Leonisa yielded to their request, and the Cadi further entreated of her, that she would but lay her hands upon his head, for that he hoped that imposition would heal his wound. Leonisa to give him content, condescended thereunto. This done, and having bored many holes in Hazans Vessel, a fresh East wind favouring them, which seemed to court the sails, and woo them, that they might be admitted to come into them, did set them going amain; so that in a very few hours they lost the sight of the Cadi's Bregantine, who with tears in his eyes, stood looking how the winds carried away his wealth, his Wife, and with Leonisa, his soul's delight.  
With different thoughts from the Cadi's sailed Ricardo, and Mahamut. And so not being willing to touch any where; as they went along on Land, they passed by the Town of Alexandria, launching through the deep Gulf; and without striking sail, or being driven to make use of their Oars, they came to the strong Island of Corsu, where they took in fresh water; and presently without any farther stay, they passed by those noted high Cliffs, the Acrocerauros. And the second day, they discovered afar off Paquino, the Promontory of the most fertile Tinacria: out of whose sight, and that famous Island of Malta they went flying, for with no less swiftness did this happy bottom bear them.  
In fine, compassing that Island, some 4. days after they descried Lampadosia, and anon after the Island where they had like to have been wracked, and the Galley wherein Leonisa was split against the rocks▪ the very sight whereof made her to tremble, calling to mind the danger wherein she had so lately seen herself. The day following they might ken before them their desired and beloved Country, which quickened that joy which was already in their hearts; their spirits were transported with this new contentment, which is one of the greatest which can be had in this life, to arrive after a long captivity safe in their own native Country. And the next that may be equalled with it, is that which men receive in getting the victory over their enemies.  
They found in the Galley a great chest full of flags and streamers of silk of sundry colours, with which Ricardo caused the Galley to be adorned in most gallant manner. The day was but newly broken, when as they found themselves to be within less than a league of the City, and rowing lustily, and sending forth ever and anon, shoutings of joy and gladness; they slacked their Oars the nearer they came to the Haven, making in very leisurely. In her entering into the Port, an infinite number of people in an instant appeared; who having seen how slowly that well trimmed Vessel made to Land, there was not any one in all the whole City, which did not come forth hastening to the Sea side.  
Whilst they were thus flocking to the shore, Ricardo, entreated Leomsa that she would clothe and adorn herself in the same manner, as when she entered into the Tent of the Bashaws, because he would put a pretty jest upon her Parents. She did so, and adding gallantry to gallantry, Pearls, to Pearls, and beauty, to beauty, (which the heart's contentment commonly increaseth) she attired and dressed herself in such sort, as caused a new admiration and wonder. Ricardo also put himself into the Turkish habit, the like did Mahamut, and all those Christians that ply'de the Oar, for there were raiments enough of the slain Turks to serve all of them. When they arrived at the Port, it was about eight of the clock in the morning, which showed itself so fair, and so clear, that it seemed to appear so of purpose, for to behold that joyful entrance.  
Before their entering the Port. Ricardo made them to discharge their Pieces of Ordnance belonging to the Galley; to wit, one Canon, and two Falcons, the City answered them with the like. The people stood as thick as they could stand together, expecting the coming in of this goodly Vessel, so bravely waving her flying flags and streamers, moving too and fro with a gentle gale of wind. But when they were come so near them as to discern that they were Turkish, by reason of those white Turbans that they wore on their heads, they began to wax fearful, and jealous of some fraud and deceit. Whereupon they betook them to their Arms, and as many as were trained Soldiers in the City, hastened to the Port, whilst the Horsemen went some one way, some another, scouring the coast. Of all which stir they took great pleasure, who by little and little drew nearer and nearer till they entered the Haven, and casting anchor near the shore, throwing out a plank, and pulling in their Oars one by one, as it were in procession came on Land, which with tears of joy they kissed again and again; an evident sign that they were Christians, who had made prize of that Vessel. The last that landed▪ were the Father and Mother of Halima, and her kinsmen, all (as we told you) clad after the Turkish fashion. That which made up the total sum or final end of all, was fair Leonisa, having a veil cast over her face of Crimson Taffeta, led by Ricardo, and Mahamut; which spectacle drew after them the eyes of all that infinite multitude, who at their landing prostrating themselves as the rest did, saluting the earth with their kisses.  
By that time this was done, the Captain and Governor of the City was come up unto them, who knew very well that they of all the rest were the chief and principal persons. But he had scarce come fully near them, but presently he knew Ricardo, and ran with open arms, and signs of exceeding great joy to embrace him.  
There came along with the governor Cornelio and his Parents, and those of Leonisa, with all her kinsfolk, together with those of Ricardo; all which were the greatest Persons of rank and quality in the whole City. Ricardo embraced the Governor, and repaid them all with thanks, that gave him the Parabien of his return.  
He took Cornelio by the hand, who as soon as he knew him, and found that he held him fast, his colour began to change, and began to shake and tremble for fear; and taking Leonisa likewise by the hand, he said: Gentlemen, of courtesy (sirs) I beseech you, that before we enter the City, and into the Temple to give due thanks unto our Lord God, for the great favours which he hath done for us in our misfortunes, you will be pleased to hear me speak a few words, which I am desirous to deliver unto you.  
Whereunto the Governor answered, that he might utter what he would; for they should all with much content and silence, give him both a willing, and attentive ear. Presently hereupon all the chiefest amongst them, placed themselves round about him; and he raising his voice to such a height as he might (not overstraining it) be well heard, spoke unto them after this manner.  
Gentlemen, ye may well remember the misfortune which some months since befell me in the Garden near the Salt-pits, together with the loss of Leonisa; it cannot likewise have fallen out of your memory, the diligence which I used in procuring her liberty, since that being forgetful of mine own, I offered for her ransom all my whole estate. And though this perhaps to your seeming, was then accounted great Liberality, yet can it not, neither ought it to redound to my praise, since that I was to give it for the ransom of my soul. That which from that time since hath happened to both of us, will require long time, a more seasonable conjuncture, and another tongue less troubled than mine. Let it suffice for the present that I tell you, that after many various and strange accidents, and after a thousand lost hopes of remedying our misfortunes, Heaven taking pity of us without any merit of ours, hath returned us home to our native Country, as full of content, as abounding in wealth: yet neither from this, nor my procured liberty is the end answerable to my desire; nor do I take any great contentment in the enjoying of these, but in that which I conceive, this both in peace, and war my sweet enemy taketh, as well for to see herself free, as to see here before her (as she doth) the image of her own soul. Yet notwithstanding I greatly rejoice in this general rejoicing, which they receive who have been my companions in misery; and though hard misfortunes, and sad mischances are wont to alter our dispositions, and to depress valiant minds. Yet was it not so with the overthrower of my good hopes; for I may be bold to say it, that she amidst these her miseries, hath with the more undaunted courage and constant resolution, endured the shipwreck of her disadventures, and the encounters of my earnest, but honest importunings. Wherein that old Adage is verified; they may change their Countries, but not their Customs who have once gotten a habit of them. Of all this which I have said, I thence infer; that I offered my whole estate for her ransom, gave her my soul in my good desires, plotted the means of her liberty, and adventured more for her, than myself, my life. And though from all these, (in the construction of noble, and ingenious dispositions) may be raised engagements of some moment, yet will I not press any one upon her, save only this one which I presume she will make good; and in saying this, he puts up his hand, and in a very civil and mannerly way, took away the scarf from before Leonisa's face, which resembled as it were the removing of a cloud, which darkens the beautiful brightness of the Sun. Then did he prosecute his speech, saying; Lo, here (Cornelio) I deliver unto thee such a jewel, which thou oughtest to esteem above all those things that are esteemed worthy. And so here (thou fair Leonisa) I give thee that which thou hast ever had in thy memory. This if you please you may term Liberality: In comparison whereof, to give away my estate, my life, my honour, is all as nothing. Take her (oh thou fortunate young man) take her (I say;) and if thy knowledge can but come to reach so high as to come to know her worth, I shall hold thee to be the happiest man this day on earth. Together with her, I will give thee likewise as much as comes to my share of all that which Heaven hath allotted to us all, which I make account will come to above 30. thousand Crowns. All this mayest thou freely enjoy with much pleasure, quietude, and content; and Heaven grant that it may continue many long and happy years. As for myself, being made unfortunate by some squint-eyed star at my birth, since that I must be without Leonisa, I am content to be poor; for he lives too long who lives without Leonisa.  
This said, he was silent, as if he had knit a knot upon his tongue. But within a very little while, before that any other spoke, recollecting himself, he said▪ Oh Heavens! how do pinching troubles disturb the understanding? I (gentlemen) out of the desire which I have to do good, have not weighed well what I said. For it is not possible that a man should show himself liberal of that which is another's, not his own. What jurisdiction or power have I in Leonisa, for to give her unto another? or how can I make offer of that which is so far from being mine? Leonisa is his, and so much his; that were her Parents dead, (but long may they live) her affection would find no opposition. And if there may stand perhaps in her way those obligations, which (being as she is, discreet) she ought to think she owes me; from this day forward I disclaim them, cancel them, and acknowledge them to be wholly void and of none effect; and therefore unsay what I said before. I give then to Cornelio nothing, because I cannot; only I confirm the grant of my goods made to Leonisa, without desiring or looking for any other recompense, save that she esteem for true my honest thoughts, and that she will have this belief of them, that they were never directed, nor looked towards any other point, save that which stood with her incomparable honesty, her great worth, and infinite beauty. And here Ricardo ended his speech.  
Whereunto Leonisa answered in this manner; if any favours (oh Ricardo) you imagine I did Cornelio (when as you were enamoured and jealous of me) imagine likewise, that it was both meet, and honest, as being guided by the will and order of my Parents, who intending to make a match between us; laid their command upon me to do him those favours. If you rest satisfied with this, well may you satisfy yourself with that which experience hath made known unto you of my honesty, and reservedness. I speak this, for to give you (Ricardo) to understand, that my will was always subject to another's will; to wit, my Parents, whom I now most humbly (as is meet) beseech, and earnestly entreat, that they will give me leave and liberty, freely to dispose of that which your valour and Liberality hath bestowed on me. Her Parents with a very good will gave her their leave so to do, relying on her discretion, that she would make use thereof in such sort, as should redound always to her own honour, and their profit.  
Having obtained this licence, discreet Leonisa proceeded thus. I shall entreat you (as many as be here present) that you will bear me witness, that I had rather incur the censure of lightness, and inconstancy, (which none of you all can, or shall ever be able to charge me therewith) then to be taxed (which is hateful both in the sight of God and man) of unthankfulness and ingratitude. And therefore (oh valiant Ricardo) my good will and affection hitherto so reserved, so perplexed and doubtful, shall now declare itself in your favour. To the end, that you men may know that all women are not ingrateful, by my expressing of my thankfulness to you. I am thine (Ricardo) and will be thine till death, if some better knowledge move thee not to deny me thy hand; for I desire nothing more than to have thee to be my Husband.  
Ricardo hearing these words, was so transported with joy, and in a manner so besides himself, that he neither knew how, nor could not answer Leonisa in any other language then humbling himself on his knees before her, and kissing her hands which he held fast by force, bathing them often with his tender and loving tears. Cornelio did shed tears too, but of grief, and sorrow; so did Leonisa's Parents, but of joy and gladness; and of admiration and contentment all the standers by.  
The Bishop of that City was then there present, and with his Benediction, and Licence brought them to the Cathedral Church, and dispensing with the time, instantly married them. The joyful news of this wedding was quickly spread over all Trapana, and that very night in token of rejoicing, infinite lights were set up, and great bonfires made, accompanied with ringing of bells, and divers loud musical instruments. And for many days after there were Maskings, Comedies, sporting with Canes. running of Bulls, and solemn invitations and feast made by the Parents of Ricardo, and Leonisa. Mahamut, and Halima were reconciled to the Church, who impossibilited of fulfilling her desire in being Ricardo's wife, contented herself in matching with Mahamut. To Halima's Parents and kinsmen Ricardo gave liberally of those spoils which he had taken, wherewith they might be enabled to live, not only sufficiently, but plentifully. In conclusion, all of them remained fully contented and satisfied; and the fame of Ricardo going beyond the bounds of Sicily, spread itself through all the parts of Italy, and many other places under the name of the Liberal Lover. And even to this very day continueth fresh in those many Children which he had by Leonisa, who was a rare example of discretion, honesty, reservedness, thankfulness, and beauty.  
The end of the third Book.   

THE FORCE OF BLOOD.  
THE FOURTH BOOK.  
IN a hot summer's night, there returned from recreating themselves at the river of Toledo, an ancient gentleman accompanied with his Wife, a little young son, a daughter of the age of 17. years, and a maid-servant. The night was clear and bright, the hour eleven, the way open, and their pace slow, that they might not lose through weariness, those pleasures which the meadows lying along the river side of Toledo, did afford them. And relying on the security, which the strict course of justice, and the well disposed people of that City did promise, the good old gentleman went walking leisurely along with his small family, far from any thought of the least disaster that might befall them. But forasmuch as misfortunes commonly then come when we least think on them, contrary wholly to his thought and quite beyond all imagination, there happened one which disturbed their present pleasure, and gave them occasion to weep many years after. There was a gentleman of that City about the age of 22. whom his great wealth, his nobleness of blood, his depraved disposition, his too much assumed liberty, and the loose and licentious company that he kept, made him to do such insolent and extravagant actions as did ill beseem his quality, and gave him the attribute of impudent, and insolent.  
This gentleman then (whose name for good respects we shall conceal, and call Rodolpho) with four other friends of his, all young men full of jollity, and above all exceeding insolent, was coming down the same hill which the old gentleman was going up. These two companies met each other, that of the sheep, with that of the wolves, and in a most uncivil kind of manner, void of all shame and honesty covering their own faces, they discovered those of the mother, daughter, and Maid: the old man, (and I cannot blame him) was somewhat moved thereat, reproved them for it, and told them they might be ashamed (had they any shame in them) to offet such an affront to gentlewomen. They answered him with mocks and scoffs, and without further misdemeaning themselves, they went forward on their way. But the great beauty of that fairest which Rodolfo had seen, which was that of Leocadia, (for that was the name of this gentleman's daughter) began in such sort to be imprinted in his memory that it drew his affection after her, and stirred him up in a desire to enjoy her, in despite of all inconveniences that might follow thereupon, and in an instant, as sudden as his passion, he imparted his mind to his Companions, and both he and they presently resolved to return back, and take her from her parents by force only therein for to please Rodolfo, for your great and rich men, which are lewdly and licentiously given shall never want those that will canonize their evil actions and qualify their bad courses for good. And therefore the hatching of this wicked purpose, the communicating it, the approving of it, and the resolving upon it, to carry away Leocadia, and the putting of it in execution was done as it were all in an instant, they covered their faces with their handkerchiefs, and drawing out their swords they came back, and had not gone many steps before they had overtaken those, who had not as yet fully made an end of giving thanks unto God for having freed them from the hands of those bold and insolent persons. Rodolfo seized on Leocadia, and taking her up in his arms, ran away with her, with all the hast he could, who had not strength enough to defend her from this violence, and the sudden passion that possessed her was so prevalent that it took away the use of her voice, so that she could not cry out, and likewise the light of her eyes, since that she being in a swound, and without any sense, she neither saw who carried her, nor whether they did carry her. Her father cried out, the mother shrieked, her little brother wept and cried both together, the maid she tore her hairs and face; but neither their cry nor shrieks were heard, neither did their tears move compassion, nor the tearing up of furrows in their faces do them any good. For the solitariness of the place, the still silence of night and the cruel bowels of the malefactors, concurred to give way to this deed of darkness. In a word the one went their way glad and joyful; and the other sad and mournful. Rodolfo came home to his house without any let or hindrance: And the parents of Leocadia to theirs grieved, afflicted and full of despair: They were blind wanting their daughter's eyes, which were the light of theirs; they were all alone lacking the sweet & pleasing company of Leocadia, they were confounded, and amazed, not knowing what to do, whether they should give notice of their misfortune to the justice, or not: They were fearful lest in so doing, they should be the principal instrument of publishing their dishonour. They saw themselves necessitated for any matter of favour as being poor though nobly descended. They knew not on whom to complain, but their own hard fortune. Rodolfo in the mean while, being subtle and crafty brought Leocadia home to his house, and to his own private lodging. And though she were in a swound when he carried her away; yet for the more surety did he blindfold her eyes with a handkerchief that she might not take notice of the streets through which she passed, nor of the house nor lodging whereunto he had brought her, having put her thereinto, without being seen of any body, because he had his quarter in his father's house (who was yet living) to himself, and kept the key of his chamber door himself, and those of that his whole quarter, An unadvised inconsiderateness of Parents, to suffer their Sons to live in that retired manner, without witnesses of their conversation.  
Before that Leocadia had recovered her swooning, Rodolfo had satisfied his lustful desire; for the unchaste violences of youth sieldome or never respect either time or place, but runs on headlong whether their unbrideled lust leads them, letting loose the reins to all licentiousness. Having the light of his understanding thus blinded, he rob Leocadia in the dark of the best jewel that she had. And for that the sins of sensuality reach no further for the most part, than the accomplishing and fulfilling of them Rodolfo presently resolved to turn Leocadia out of doors, and it entered into his imagination to lay her out in the street, being thus in a swound as she was, and going to put this his purpose in execution, he perceived that she was newly come to herself, and began to speak, saying.  
Oh unfortunate wretch that I am! where am I? what darkness is this? what clouds have compassed me about? Lord bless me, who is that that toucheth me? am I in bed? what aileth me? how comes this to pass? do you hear me dear Mother? or you my beloved Father? Ay me, unhappy as I am! for I well perceive that my Parents hear me not, and that my enemies touch me; happy should I be if this darkness would endure for ever, not giving my eyes leave to see any more the light of the World. And that this place wherein now I am, whatsoever it be, might serve to be the sepulchre to my honour; since that better is that dishonour which is not known, than that honour which is exposed to the opinion of the vulgar. Now I call that to mind which before I could not, that but a little while since, I was in the company of my Parents; now I remember that some assaulted me; now I conceive and see, that it is not meet that the people should see me. Oh thou! whosoever thou art that art here with me (and with this she took fast hold on Rodofo's hands) if thou be'st such a one whose soul will admit of entreaty, I entreat and beseech thee, that since thou hast triumphed over my Fame, that thou wilt likewise triumph over my life; quit me of it instantly, for it is fit that I should lose my life, since that I have lost my honour; and consider with thyself, that the rigour of that cruelty which thou hast exercised on me in offending me, will be tempered and moderated by the pity which thou shalt use towards me by killing me; and so thou shalt show thyself at once, both cruel, and pitiful.  
The reasons which Leocadia alleged to Rodolfo, left him in amazedness, and confusion; and like a raw young man unexperienced in the world, he knew not either what to say, or do: whose silence made Leocadia the more to wonder, who by her hands sought to dis-deceive herself, and to try by touching whether it were a phantasma, or a ghost that was with her; but when she found that she touched a body, a very body, and did call to her remembrance the force which was done her going along with her Parents, she fell into a true reckoning of her misfortune; and with the very thought thereof, she returned a new to sent those words which her many sighs and sobs had interrupted, saying.  
Oh 〈◊〉 bold daring man▪ for thy actions make me to judge thee to be of no great years, I pardon thee the wrong thou hast done me, and forgive thee that foul offence thou hast committed; so that thou wilt promise and swear unto me, that as thou hast covered it with this darkness, so likewise thou wilt cover it with perpetual silence, without acquainting any body therewith. It is a small recompense which I crave of thee, in comparison of so great an injury. Yet to me (considering the case that I am in) it will be the greatest that I can beg of thee, or thou canst give me; consider besides, that I never saw thy face, neither do I desire to see it. For though I cannot but still think on the offence done me, yet will I not think upon my offender, neither will I lay up in my memory the image of the author of my hurt; I shall pour forth my complaints between myself and Heaven, without desiring that the world should hear them, which doth not judge of things by their success, but according unto that which is settled in its opinion. I know not how it is that I utter these truths unto thee, which usually are wont to be grounded upon the experience of many Cases, and on the discourse of many years, mine amounting to no more than 17; yet do I understand thus much, that grief and sorrow doth alike tie, and untie the tongue of the afflicted; one whiles exaggerating the received wrong that others may be thereby the better induced to believe it, and another while burying it in silence, that others may not give any remedy thereunto. So that which way soever it be, whether I speak, or hold my peace, I persuade myself, that I cannot but move thee either to believe me, or to remedy me, since that not to believe me were ignorance, and to remedy me impossible. Yet mayst thou give me some little ease of my grief, whereof I will not despair, since it will cost thee but little to give it me. This then is that which I will say unto thee; see that thou do not flatter thyself with expecting or hoping, that time shall allay or pacify that just rage and indignation which I bear, and still shall towards thee; neither do thou go about to heap more wrongs upon me, because thou art not likely further to enjoy me; and having already enjoyed me, me thinks thy evil desires should be the less inflamed. Make account that thou offendest me by accident, without giving way to any good discourse, and I will make account that I was not borne and brought forth into the world; or if I were, it was for to be unfortunate Put me therefore presently forth into the street, or at least near unto the great church, for from thence I shall know how to go directly home. Moreover thou shalt likewise swear unto me, that thou shalt not follow me, nor seek to know where I dwell, nor ask me, neither my Parents, or mine own name, nor of my kinsfolk, and Allies; who for that they are so rich, and so noble, they may not be in me so unhappy, and unfortunate. Return me answer to these my demands, and if thou art afraid that I may hap to know thee by thy voice, I would have thee again to know, that excepting my father and my Confessor, I have not spoken with any man in my life, and very few are they which I have heard speak in their ordinary talk and communication that I could be able to distinguish them by the sound of their voice.  
The answer which Rodolfo returned to the discreet discourse of afflicted Leocadia, was no other save his embracing her, and making show that he had a mind to renew in himself his lustful desire, and in her, her further dishonour; the which being perceived by Leocadia, with greater force and resistance than her tender age could promise, she defended herself with her feet, with her hands, with her teeth, and with her tongue, saying.  
Know traitor as thou art, and thou wicked man without soul or conscience whosoever thou be'st, that those spoils which thou hast had of me, were such as thou mightst have taken from a stock, or stone, without any sense or feeling; whose conquest and triumph which cannot but redound to thy reproach. And therefore that which thou pretendest, thou shalt not obtain but by my death. When I was in a swound, thou took'st thy pleasure, and didst what thou listest with me, but now that I am come to myself, and have my spirits and wits about me, thou shalt sooner kill me, then overcome me; for if now being awake, I should without resistance yield to thy abominable lust, thou mightest (and not without just cause) imagine that my swooning was feigned, when thou wast so bold and insolent in working my utter ruin and destruction.  
In conclusion, Leocadia so bestirred herself, and made such stout and resistance, that the strength and courage, and with it the desires of Rodolfo began to flag. And for that the insolency which he had used with Leocadia, had no other beginning then from a violent lascivious impetuousness, from which never springeth that true love which is permanent; but instead of that impetuousness which passeth away, there remaineth only repentance, or at least a coldness of will to second it. Rodolfo then growing somewhat cooler, but much more weary, without speaking any one word, left Leocadia in his bed and lodging, and went to seek out his companions, for to consult and advise with them what he were best to do.  
Leocadia perceived that she was left all alone and fast shut up; whereupon rising from the bed, she went roaming about the room, groping the walls with her hands, for to see if she could find a door to get out at, or a window to leap down. She found the door, but too strongly locked for her to open it, and she lighted on a window which she was able to unhaspe, by which the Moon shined in so clear and so bright, that Leocadia could distinguish the colours of certain Damasks which adorned the lodging. She could discern that the bed was guilded, & so richly furnished, that it seemed rather the bed of a Prince, then of a private gentleman. She reckoned the number of the chairs, and stools, and of the Escritorios, and Cabinets; she noted the place where the door stood, and though she saw tables hanging on the walls, yet she discerned not the pictures that were drawn in them. The window was large, well garnished and guarded with a great many bars, the prospect whereof was into a Garden, which was likewise enclosed with high walls; difficulties which opposed themselves to that intention which she had to leap down into the street. All that she saw and noted of the capaciousness and rich furniture of the room, gave her to understand, that the Master and owner thereof must needs be some principal Person, and not of mean wealth, but exceeding rich. Upon a Cabinet which stood near to the window, she e●…pied a little Crucifix all of silver, the which she took thence and put it in her sleeve, not out of devotion, and as little out of theft; but only drawn unto it by a discreet design which she had in her head. This being done, she shuts the window, leaving it as it was before, and returned back to the bed, expecting what end such a bad beginning would have.  
It was not to her seeming much more than half an hour, when she heard the door of the lodging open, and that one came unto her, and without speaking so much as one word, with a handkerchief hood-winked her eyes, and taking her by the arm, took her out of the lodging, she hearing him shut the door after him. This person was Rodolfo, who though he had gone to seek out his Companions, yet was he not willing to find them; it seeming unto him, that it was not fit that he should have any witnesses of that which had passed with that damosel, but was rather resolved to tell them, that repenting himself of that ill deed, and moved with her tears, he had put her off, leaving her in the midway. Having thus bethought himself, he returned back with all speed, to place Leocadia near unto the great Church, as she had formerly entreated of him before it were day, lest otherwise it might disappoint his purpose, and he be enforced to keep her in his lodging till the next ensuing night; in which space of time, neither was he willing to use any more force or violence, nor to give occasion of being known. He brought her then to the place which they commonly call by the name of Ayuntamiento, where the people publicly assemble and meet together; and there in a counterfeit voice, and in a tongue half Portughese, and half Spanish, he told her that she might thence go securely to her own house, and that none should follow and tract her whether she went And before that she had time & leisure to unknit and loosen the handkerchief, he had got himself far enough out of her sight.  
Leocadia remained all alone, she took away the bend from before her eyes, she knew the place where he had left her, she looked round about her on every side, she saw no person living, but suspecting that some would follow her a loof off, at every step she made a stand, advancing herself in that manner in her way homeward, which was not very far from the Church; and for to deceive the spies, if b●… chance they should follow her, she entered into a house that she found open; and from thence by little and little went to her own, where she found her Parents amazed and astonished; and so far from preparing themselves to go to bed, that they had not so much as entertained the least thought of taking any rest at all; who, when they saw her, ran unto her with open arms, and with tears in their eyes, lovingly received her. Leocadia's heart boiling with passion, and being much troubled in mind, entreated her Parents to withdraw themselves and to go a little aside with her; they did so. And then, and there in a few words she gave them an account of that her unfortunate success, with all the circumstances belonging thereunto, and that she could by no means come to the knowledge of him that assaulted her, and robb●…d her of her honour. She acquainted them with all that she had seen in that Theatre, wherein was represented and acted that woeful Tragedy of her misfortune. The window, the garden, the bars of iron, the Cabinets, the bed, the Damasks; and last of all she showed them the Crucifix which she had brought thence with her. Before which Image they renewed their tears, made deprecations, called for vengeance, and begged of God miraculous chastisements. She likewise told them, that although she did not desire to come to have knowledge of her offender, yet if it seemed good unto her Parents to have him known by means of that Image, they might do it by causing the Clerks of all the Parishes in the City, to publish at divine Service in their several Churches, that he who had lost such an Image, he should find it put in the hands of some such person as the party that lost it should nominate and appoint for the receiving of it; and so by knowing the owner of the Image, they might come thereby to know the he use, as also the person of their enemy. Hereunto her Father replied, what you have said, had been well said (Daughter) if the crafty and cunning now adays did not oppose itself to thy discreet discourse, since that it is clear and manifest that this Image may not suddenly be missed, or if mist, no great reckoning made of it; and the owner thereof will certainly apprehend and imagine that the person who was with him in the lodging had taken it away; and that if it should come to his knowledge that some Religious man hath it in his keeping▪ he will rather serve his turn, and make use of his knowing who it should be that gave it to him that now hath it, then be willing to declare and make known the owner that lost it. And it may likewise happen that another may come for it, to whom the owner thereof hath given some signs and tokens whereby to know and challenge it to be his. And if this should be so, we should be in worse case than before, and remain rather confounded, then informed, though we should use the same artifice and cunning, which we suspect them for, by giving it to a Religious man by a third person. That (Daughter) which is herein to be done, is to keep it; that as it was a witness of thy disgrace, so it may become an evidence to procure thee justice, and right the great wrong which thou hast received. And with all consider (dear Daughter) that one ounce of public dishonour doth lie heavier upon us, than a pound weight of secret infamy. True dishonour consists in sin, and true honour in virtue. God is offended with our sayings, our doings, and our desires; and since that thou neither in thought, word, nor deed, hast offended him, account thyself honest, for. I shall hold thee so, and shall never look upon thee but like a kind and loving Father.  
With these prudent reasons did this good Father comfort Leocadia; and her Mother embracing her again, and again, did likewise endeavour to comfort her. Whereupon she fell a fresh a weeping, and a crying, and hiding her head (as they say) for shame; she betook herself to a private and retired course of life, under the shelter and protection of her Parents, being honestly, and decently, though but poorly clad.  
Rodolfo in the mean while being come home, and sitting him down in his chamber, casting his eye aside, he found the Image of his Crucifix missing, and presently imagined who might carry it away; but he made slight of it, and for that he was rich, he did not reckon much of it, neither did his Parents question him for it; when as (being within three days after to go for Italy) he did deliver up by tale to one of his Mother's Chambermaids, all that which he left behind him in the lodging, whereof she took a true Inventory.  
It was many days since that Rodolfo had resolved to travel into Italy; and his Father who had been there in his younger years, persuaded him thereunto; telling him, that they were not Gentlemen who were only so in their own Country, but that they must likewise show themselves to be such abroad. For these and other reasons, Rodolfo disposed his will, to comply with that of his father, who gave him Bills of credit for good round sums of money for Barcelona, Genoa, Rome, and Naples. And he with two of his Comrad's presently departed, being much taken with that which he had heard some Soldiers repeat of the great store of Inn's in Italy, and France, and of the liberty which Spaniards took in their lodgings. That sounded well in his ear; lo sir, here be good tender Pullet's, yowg Pigeons, fine white fat Veal, a good Gammon of Bacon, excellent Sausages, and the like; which the Soldiers did magnify in mentioning them unto him; showing what a great deal of difference they found when they came out of those parts into these, laying before him the scarcity of Provision, and the discommodities of the Inn's of Spain. In conclusion, he went away, so little thinking on that which passed betwixt himself, and Leocadia, as if there had never been any such matter.  
She in the interim, led her life in the house of her Parents with all possible retiredness, without suffering herself to be seen of any, as one that was fearful, lest they might read her misfortune in her forehead. But within a few months, she perceived that she was driven to do that by force and constraint, which hitherto she had done willingly, and of her own accord. She saw that it was fit and convenient for her to live closely, and retyredly, because she found herself to be with Child. A success which occasioned those tears which in some sort had been forgotten, to break forth a new from the fountains of her eyes; and those sighs and lamentations which had lain for a while calm, and quiet, began to rise, and like fierce winds, fell a beating, and waging war one against another; her Mother's discretion, and gentle persuasions, not being able to allay the violence of her passion, nor afford her any comfort.  
Time fled away with a swift wing, and the time of her delivery was come; but with that secrecy, that they durst not trust a Midwife therewith, so that her Mother usurping this office, brought forth to the light of the world a little young Son, one of the prettiest, sweetest, and beautifullest babes that thought itself could imagine; with the like wariness, circumspection, and secrecy wherewith it was borne, they conveyed it to a Country Village, where it continued four years. At the end whereof, with the name of Nephew his Grandfather brought him home to his own house, where he was bred up, though not very richly, yet at least very virtuously. The Child was (whom they named Lewis, that being his Grandfather's name) of a fair complexion, a pleasing countenance, a sweet disposition, a gentle nature, a quick wit; and in all those his actions which in that tender age he could do, he gave apparent signs and tokens, that he was begotten by some noble Father; and in such sort his wit, beauty, and pretty behaviour, did make his Grandfather and Grandmother so far in love with him, that they came to hold their Daughter's unhappiness, to be a happiness, in that she had given them such a Nephew. When he went through the street they did shower down upon him a thousand benedictions; some blessed his beauty, othersome the Mother that bore him, these, the Father that begat, and those, him who had brought him up, and given him such good breeding.  
With this applause of those that knew him, and knew him not, the Child grew to be Seven years of age. In which time he had learned to read Spanish, and Latin, and to write a very good hand. For his grandfathers and grandmother's intention was to make him virtuous, and wise, since that they could not make him rich; not being ignorant, that virtue, and wisdom, were the only riches over which neither thiefs, nor fortune had any power.  
It happened one day, that the Child was sent by his Grandmother on a message to a kinswoman of hers, and it was his chance to pass through a street where some gentlemen were running careers with their horses, he stayed to look on them, and for the getting of a better place; he ran athwart from the one side, to the other, just in such an ill conjuncture of time, that he could not avoid a Horses running over him, whose rider with all the strength he had, was not able to keep back in the fury of his Career. He ran over him, and left him stretched on the ground for dead, pouring out much blood from his head.  
This sad mischance had scarce happened, when lo, an ancient Gentleman, who was beholding the Career, with extraordinary dexterity leapt from his Horse, and went where the Child was; and taking him out of ones arms that held him, took him into his own, and without making any reckoning of his grey hairs, or regarding his authority, which was much, neglecting the grave Spanish pace, with large steps he hied him home to his own house, willing his servants to leave him, and to go and seek out a skilful Surgeon for to cure the Child. Many Gentlemen followed him, grieving and pitying the misfortune that had befallen so sweet and fair a Child. For it was presently voiced abroad, that he that was thus trodden down, was Luisico, the kinsman of such a Gentleman, naming his Grandfather. This voice ran from mouth to mouth, till it came at last to the ears of his grandfather, and grandmother, and likewise to those of his retired Mother; who being fully and truly certified of this unlucky and lamentable accident, ran forthwith out of doors as if they had been mad, to know what was become of their beloved. And because the gentleman that carried him away, was so well known, and of such principal rank and quality, many of those whom they met withal, told them where his house was, whether (being carried between love and fear) they soon arrived just at that instant when the Child was under the Surgeon's hands. The gentleman & his wife, the owners of the house, entreated those whom they thought to be his Parents, that they would not weep, nor fill the air with the cry of their complaints, being that it could do the Child no good. The Surgeon who was famous for his skill, having dressed him with a gentle hand, and as a Master of his faculty, told them that the wound was not so mortal, as at first he feared it had been.  
When he was half dressed, Luisicos memory came to him, which until then had left him; and was very glad and cheerie, in seeing his Grandfather and Grandmother there, who with tears in their eyes, asked him how he did? He answered, well, save that he was much pained in his body, and his head. The Surgeon▪ advised them, that they should not speak unto him, but that they would give him leave to take his rest. They did so; and then his Grandfather began to give the Master of the House thanks, for that his great charity which he had extended towards his Nephew. Whereunto the gentleman replied, that he needed not to thank him; giving him to understand, that when the Child fell, and was over-borne by the Horse, it seemed unto him, that he saw the face of a Son of his own, whom he tenderly loved; and that this moved him to take him up in his arms, and bring him home to his own house, where he would that he should continue till he were fully cured; and that he should not want cherishing, nor any thing else that the house could afford, that was needful and necessary for him. His Wife who was a noble Lady, said (the phrase a little varied) in effect the very same words, and did somewhat more amplify and endear her promises.  
The grandfather and grandmother of the Child did much wonder at, and admire this their great Christianity. And the Mother much more, for her troubled spirit being somewhat quieted by the Surgeons comfortable words, she diligently observed the lodging where her Son lay, and by apparent signs and tokens, clearly knew that that was the room where her honour had its end, and her misfortune its beginning. And though it were not now hung and adorned with Damask, as than it was; she knew the form and fashion of it, she saw the window with the iron bars which looked into a Garden; and though it were shut that the Air might not offend the wounded Child, she did ask whether that window did Butt or no upon some garden? and it was told her, it did; but that which she most certainly knew, was, that that was the very same bed which had been the Tombstone to her grave. And moreover, that that very Cabinet whereon stood the Crucifix which she carried away with her, remained still in the self same place. Lastly, the stairs brought to light the truth of all her suspicions, which she had numbered and counted when she was led out of the lodging blindefold; I say those stairs which were from her going out thence to the street, which with discreet advisement she had told. And when she came home (having taken leave of her Son) she fell to counting of them again, and found the number of them to fall out right, and just; and comparing some signs with other some, she was fully persuaded that this her imagination was undoubtedly true. Whereof she gave a large account unto her Mother, who like a discreet woman, informed herself whether this Gentleman where her Nephew now was, had any Son, or no? And she found that he whom we call Rodolfo was his Son, and that he was in Italy. And casting up the time, which (as it was told them) he had been absent from Spain; they saw that they jumped just with the same years of the Child. She gave notice of all this to her Husband, and betwixt them two, and their Daughter, they agreed to expect how God would dispose of the wounded Child, who within fifteen days was out of danger of his received hurt, and at the end of thirty, was upon his feet, and able to walk up and down the chamber. In all which time, he was visited by his Mother, and Grandmother, and made as much of by the owners of the house, as if he had been their own Child.  
And now and then, Dona Estefania (for so was the Gentleman's wife called) talking with Leocadia, told her, that this Child did so well resemble a Son of hers who was in Italy, that she never looked upon him, but that it seemed unto her that she had her own Son in her eye. From these words of hers, Leocadia took occasion on a time to tell her when she was all alone with her, such things as had before been debated and agreed upon by her Parents to signify unto her, which were these, or the like.  
That day (Madam) wherein my Parents heard that their Nephew was so grievously hurt, they believed, and verily thought that Heaven had been shut against them, and that all the World had fallen upon them; they imagined that they had lost the light of their eyes, whom they loved so dear, and in such an extraordinary kind of manner, that by many degrees it exceeded that which Parents commonly bear to their own Children. But (as we usually say) that when God gives the wound, he likewise gives the medicine to cure it. This Child hath found it in this house, and I likewise therein call to mind somethings which I shall never forget the longest day of my life. I (dear Lady) am noble, because my Parents are so, and so have been all my Ancestors; who with a mediocrity of the goods of fortune, have happily upheld their honour and reputation wheresoever they lived.  
Dona Estefania was strucken both with wonder, and suspension, heakening to Leocadia's discourse, and how feelingly her words came from her, and could not believe though she saw it, that so much discretion could be comprehended in so few years, judging her to be but some 20. years of age, little more, or less; and without saying any thing unto her, or replying so much as one word, she stood expecting to hear what she would furthermore say, which was sufficient enough for the informing her of her Son's waggishnesse, and wantonness, and of her own disgrace, and dishonour; of his stealing, and carrying her away by force, of his blind-folding of her eyes, of his bringing her to that very lodging, and telling her the signs and tokens whereby she certainly knew that the same was the room which so strongly confirmed her suspitition. For further confirmation whereof, she took from out her bosom the Image of the Crucifix which she had taken thence, and spakethus'.  
Thou Lord, who wast a witness of the force that was offered me; do thou judge my cause, and make me that amends and reparation of my honour, as of right is due unto me. From the top of that Cabinet I took this Crucifix, with a purpose only to put me still in mind of the wrong I received, but not to crave vengeance thereof, (for I pretend no such thing) only I shall entreat and beg of thee, that thou wilt give me some comfort, whereby I may the better be enabled to bear this my disgrace with patience.  
This Child (Lady) on whom you have exercised the utmost of your charity, is your true Grandchild; it was Gods will and the permission of Heaven, that the Horse ran over him, to the end, that by his being brought to your house, that I should find that therein which I hope to find; and if not the remedy, which is most convenient for the curing of my misfortune▪ yet at least the means which may help me to bear it the better.  
Having said this, she fell down in a swound in Dona Estefania's arms; who like a noble Gentlewoman, (in whom compassion, and pity is as natural, as cruelty in men,) had scarce perceived Leocadia's swooning; but she joined her cheeks to hers, shedding thereon so many tears, that there was no need o●… sprinkling any other water in her face to bring her again to herself. These two being thus glued each to other, it was Dona Estefania's Husbands hap to come into the room, bringing Luisico in with him, leading him by the hand, and seeing Estefania weep, and Leocadia lying in a swound, he was very hasty in enquiring what might be the cause thereof, and whence it proceeded. The Child embraced his Mother as his Cousin, and his Grandmother, as his benefactresse; a●…d did likewise ask why they did weep? Great and strange things (Sir) I have to tell you, said Estefania to her Husband; the whole sum whereof shall end in telling you, that I must assure you that this gentlewoman who fell into a swound, is your Daughter, and this pretty boy, your grandchild. This truth which I tell you, was delivered unto me by this good gentlewoman, and the countenance of this sweet Child hath confirmed it; wherein we have both of us beheld as in a glass our own Son. If you tell me no more than this Wife, replied her Husband, I do not understand you. By this time Leocadia was come to herself, and holding fast still the Crucifix, she seemed to be turned into a sea of tears. All which had put the gentleman into a great confusion and amazement, from which he was freed by his Wife's recounting unto him all that which Leocadia had imparted unto her; and he by the Divine permission of Heaven, did believe it as verily, as if it had been proved and made good by many substantial and true witnesses.  
He comforted and embraced Leocadia, and kissed his grandchild Luisico; and that very day dispatched a Post to Naples, advising his Son to come home with all possible speed, because he had concluded a marriage for him, with a marvellous fair and beautiful gentlewoman; and such a one, as was most fit and convenient for him. Nor would they by any means consent, and give way, that Leocadia, or her Child should back again to her Father's house; who resting beyond measure contented with this good success of their Daughter, gave infinite thanks therefore unto God. The Post returned from Naples, and Rodolfo out of greediness to enjoy so fair a Wife as his Father had signified unto him, within two days after that he had received his Father's letters, occasion of passage being offered unto him for his coming into Spain; taking hold thereof, he embarked himself, with his two Comrades who had never left him, and with a prosperous wind, in 12. days he arrived at Barcelona; and from thence, taking Post-horses, in 7. more he came to Toledo, and entered into his father's house in such a brave and gallant fashion as did exceed, for in him were met together the extremes of both. His Parents were very much joyed with the welfare and arrival of their Son.  
Leocadia, who unseen, from a private place had a full view and sight of him, that she might not transgress the order given her by Dona Estefania, was in a quandary, and in great doubt and suspension what would be the issue of this business. Rodolfo's Comrades would needs go presently home to their own houses; but Estefania would by no means let them, because she had need of them for the effecting of her design. It was near night when Rodolfo arrived; and whilst that supper was making ready, Estefania called her Sons Comrades aside, being verily persuaded that these must needs be two of those three, who (as Leocadia had told her) accompanied Rodolfo that night when they stole her away; and with great and earnest entreaties▪ she besought them that they would tell her, whether they did not or no remember that their Son on such a night, so many years since stole away such a Woman? For to know the truth thereof much concerned the honour and peace, of not only his Parents, but of all their Alliance and kindred. And with such and so great e●…dearments, she knew how to crave this courtesy of them, and in such sort to assure them, that from the discovering of this stealth, there should no damage follow thereupon; that in conclusion, they held it fit to confess the truth, and so told her, that they two, and another friend of Rodolfo's on a Summer's night, the very fame which she had named unto them; had stolen away a young gentlewoman, and that Rodolfo carried her away with him, whilst they detained the rest of their company, who without cries sought to defend her from that violence. And that the next day following Rodolfo told them, that he carried her to his lodging; and that this was all that they could say in answer to her demand.  
The confession of those two, was the key which opened the door to all the doubts, which in such a case could offer themselves; and therefore she resolved with herself, to bring that good purpose which she had entertained, to a good end, which was this▪ A little before that they were to sit down to supper, Rodolfo's Mother went apart with her Son into a by-room, and putting a picture into his hands, she said withal unto him; Son Rodolfo, I will give you a very savoury and pleasing supper, in showing thee thy Spouse. This is her true picture; but I must tell you, and would have you to think well upon it; that what is wanting unto her in beauty, is superabundantly supplied with her virtues. She is noble, and discreet, and indifferently rich; and since that your Father and myself, have made choice of her for you, assure yourself that she is such a one as is fitting for you.  
Rodolfo viewed the picture with a searching and judicious eye; and after he had done looking upon it, he said; if Painters who commonly are wont to be prodigal of their bestowing of beauty on those faces which they draw, have dealt so likewise with this; I dare be bold to say it, and verily believe it, that the original to this counterfeit, must needs be foulness itself. In good faith (Lady Mother) it is just and meet that Children should obey their Parents in all that they shall command them; but withal it is likewise convenient, and much more fitting, that Parents should put their Children into such an estate and condition as shall give them content, and in a lawful way stand with their liking. And since that Marriage is a knot which is not undone but by death; it were not amiss, but rather much to be desired, that the laces wherewith this knot is to be knit, should be equal and alike, and wrought of one and the same threads. Virtue, nobleness, discretion, and the goods of fortune, may well please and delight the understanding of him who shall happen to have a wife so qualified. But that the foulness of such a one should cheer and glad the eyes of her husband, in my opinion it is impossible. I am but a young man, yet I understand myself very well in this particular, and know that a just and due delight which married folks may enjoy and take one in other, may sort and stand very well with the rites of holy Matrimony ●…nd if that once fail and be wanting, Matrimony halts and goes lame, and contradicteth its second intention.  
Now then to think or imagine, that a foul face which a man is to have at all hours before his eyes at bed, and at board, may please and delight; I say again and again, that I hold it impossible. Therefore as you are my dear and loving Mother, I humbly beseech you, that you will give me such a companion, and yoke-fellow, that I may take some delight in entertaining the time with her; and not such a one as may cause a loathing in me as oft as I shall look upon her; to the end that without resting or turning away to this or that other side, equally, and in a direct way, we may both of us the more easily draw together, and bear that yoke the better, which Heaven hath allotted and laid upon us. And if this Gentlewoman be noble, discreet, and rich, (as your Ladyship implieth) she cannot want a husband that may happily be of a different humour from me. Some there be, that seek after nobleness, others discretion, others money, others beauty, and I am of the last. For nobleness, (thanks unto Heaven, my ancestors, and my Parents) that is left to me by inheritance. For discretion, so as a woman be not an ignorant, an Ass, or a Do●…te; it sufficeth that she do not break (as they say) her needle's point; that she be not so witty, as by the subtleness thereof, to run into some absurdity or other to her shame and dishonour; so foolish, that she should not be of some good use, and profit. For riches, those likewise of my Parents make me not to be fearful of ever coming to be poor. It is beauty that I seek after, it is one that is fair and well favoured, that I desire; not regarding any other Dowry than honesty, and a sweet and fair behaviour: for if my wife shall bring this with her, I shall serve God with pleasure and delight, and give a good and contented old age to my Parents.  
His Mother rested very well satisfied wi●…h Rodolfo's reasons, because by them she knew that it made all as she would have it for her design. And therefore made him answer, that she would procure such a marriage for him, as should be answerable to his desire, and that he should not trouble ●…r afflict himself about it; for it was an easy piece of business to undo that agreement which was made for his marrying with that gentlewoman Rodolfo rendered her many thanks, and the hour of supper being come, they went forth to supper, and the father and mother and Rodolfo, and his Comrades being already sat down at table, Dona Estefania, as if she had forgotten herself, O Lord (quoth she) where was my mind? have I not used my guest kindly think you, to sit down before she comes? go one of you presently, and tell Leocadia, that without using any nicety, or excusing herself that here are strangers, she come presently hither to honour this my Table; and that they who sit at it, are all of them my Children, and her servants. All this was her plot, and of all that which was therein to be done, Leocadia had been before advertised. It was not long ●…re Leocadia came and entered the room, presenting on the sudden in her person the fairest show, that either artificial, or natural beauty could afford. She came in clad, (it being then Winter,) in a gown of black Velvet, set with buttons of gold, and pearl; a girdle, and chain of Diamonds, her own hairs which were long, and of an auborne colour, did serve her instead of her head-dressing, whose invention of ribbons, tufts of feathers, and glitterings of Diamonds which were interwoven with them, did dazzle the eyes of the beholders.  
Leocadia was of a gentle disposition, and of a quick and lively spirit: she brought her Son along with her, leading him by the hand, two Damosels going before her, lighting her in with two wax lights, in two silver Candlesticks. They all rose up to do her reverence, as if she had been some Deity sent down from Heaven, which had thus miraculously appeared unto them. None of those that were there, but stood astonished, beholding so rare a piece; and the more they looked on her, the more they were amazed, insomuch that they were not able to speak unto her; such power hath beauty to impose silence.  
Leocadia, with a graceful behaviour, and discreet carriage, made lowly courtesy and obeisance to them all; and Estesania taking her by the hand, 〈◊〉 her next unto herself, right over against Rodolfo. The little boy, he sat by his Grandfather; Rodolfo who now at a nearer distance, beheld the incómparable beauty of Lecadia, said within himself; if she had but the one half of this beauty which my Mother hath made choice of for to be my Spouse, I should hold myself the happiest man in the World. What is this which I now see? is it happily some Angel that I stand thus gazing on? And in this rapture of his, the fair image of Leocadia went entering in by his eye, to take possession of his soul. Who all the while that supper lasted, seeing him likewise so near unto herself, whom she now loved more than the light of those her eyes which now and then by stealth looked on him, she began to revolve in her imagination, and to call to mind that which had passed heretofore with Rodolfo. Whereupon those hopes began to wax●… weak in her soul, which his Mother had given her of his being her Husband; fearing that the shortness of her fortune would be answerable in the end to his Mother's promises, She considered with herself how near she was of being happy, or unhappy for ever. And so intense was this consideration, and so strong and violent these her thoughts and imaginations, that they did in such sort trouble and oppress her heart, that she began to sweat, and to change colour in an instant; whereupon suddenly followed a swooning, which enforced her to let her head fall into Dona Estefania's lap, had she not received it within her arms. Who as soon as she saw her in this trance, much startled therewith, made her bosom her pillow.  
A sudden passion seized on them all, and rising from the board, they addressed themselves to procure her recovery▪ But he who gave best evidence of his sorrow was Rodolfo, who that the sooner he might comein to help her, out of mere haste stumbled, and fell twice; but neither with unclasping her gown, nor unlacing her petticoat, nor with sprinkling water on her face, did she come again to herself, but rather the rising of her breast, and the failing of her pulse, which they could not find to move, or stir, went giving precise signs, and apparent tokens of her death. And the men and maid-servants of the house, more passionate, then well advised, cried out aloud, oh she is dead, she is dead.  
This sorrowful news, accompanied with such woeful lamentations, came at last to the ears of Leocadia's Parents; whom for a more pleasing occasion, Dona Estefania had kept close and secret, till she saw a fit time for to bring them forth in public; who together with the Priest of the Parish, (for he likewise was shut up with them,) breaking the order given them by Estefania, came forth into the room where they were. The Priest made in quickly, for to see if by any signs, she gave any tokens of repenting herself of her sins, to the end that he might absolve her of them. And whereas he thought to have found but one in a swound, he found two. For Rodolfo was now in the like case, lying with his face on Leocadia's breast; his Mother gave way unto him, and was willing that he should draw thus near unto her, as unto a thing that was to be his; but when she saw that her Son likewise was without sense, and lay as it were for dead, she was likewise upon the point to lose hers; and had questionless lost it, had she not presently perceived that Rodolfo began (as he did) to come again to himself; who was much ashamed that they had seen him run into such extremes.  
But his Mother, as one that divined of that which her Son thought, said unto him; be not ashamed (Son) of these extremes which thou hast committed, but be ashamed of those which thou shouldst not have committed, when thou shalt come to know that which I will no longer conceal from thee, though I thought to have deferred the doing of it, until a more joyful conjuncture.  
I would have thee therefore to know (Son of my soul) that this gentlewoman whom you see lying thus in a swound in mine arms, is thy true Spouse. I style her thy true Spouse, because myself and thy Father have made choice of her to be thy wife; for that which I presented to thee in the picture, was a false one.  
When Rodolfo heard this, transported with his amorous, and inflamed desire; and the name of Husband removing all those rubs which the honesty and decency of the place might lay in his way, he broke through the company, and laying his face to that of Leocadia, remained as one expecting that his soul should breathe itself forth, and either bring hers back again, or make its abode with hers for ever.  
But when the tears of all, through extreme grief, went still more and more increasing; and when through excess of sorrow, their lamentations and outcries augmented more and more, and grew louder and higher, and that the hairs of the head and beard of Leocadia's Mother, and Father, by taring and pulling of them up by the roots, began to wax less and less, and that the shrill exclamations of their Son Rodolfo, with their noise and clamour pierced the Heavens. Leocadia returned again unto herself; and with her returning to life, returned that joy and content, which had absented themselves from the breasts of those that were about her. Leocadia found herself linked close with fast embrace in Rodolfo's arms, and sought by honest force to unloose herself from them. But he said unto her, no (sweet Mistress) it must not be so; it is not meet that you should strive to get yourself from forth his arms, who holds you already foe fast in his soul. With these kind words Leocadia came wholly to herself, and perfectly recovered her lost senses; and Dona Estefania made an end of going any further forward with her former determination; speaking to the Priest, that he should forthwith without any further delay espouse her Son to Leocadia. He did so, because there was no difficulty that interposed itself for the hindering of these espousals.  
Which being now fully ended and finished, I leave it to some choicer Pen, and to some other wit more refined than mine; to recount the general joy and gladness of all those that were there present; the embracements which Leocadia's Parents gave Rodolfo, the thanks which they gave to Heaven, and to his Parents; the fair offers of love and friendship on their parts; the admiration and wonder of Rodolfo's Comrades, who so unexpectedly saw the very self same night of their arrival there, so fair a match made up. And they wondered the more when they knew by Dona Estefania's discourse before them all that Leocadia was the damosel which in their company her Son had violently stolen and carried away.  
Nor did Rodolfo remain any whit less suspensefull; and for the better certifying himself of this truth, he entreated Leocadia that she would acquaint him with some sign or token, whereby he might come to the full knowledge of that which he did not doubt of, because his Parents had so well approved his matching with her, whereunto she made this answer. When I returned and came to myself from out another swooning, I found myself (dear Sir) in your arms without mine honour; but I think it now well employed, since that in this my latter coming to myself, I find myself in the same arms I did then, but with much more honour. And if this token be not sufficient, let that suffice of the Image of a Crucifix, which none could steal from you but myself, which you could not choose but miss the next morning. And if that be the very same which your Mother hath now in her keeping, you are the Image of my soul which I highly adore, and you shall be still nearest and dearest unto me as long (my dear) as God shall permit us to live together. Whereupon he embracing her a new, their Parents bestowed their benedictions upon them, and all the rest that were by, bid God give them joy.  
Supper came in, and the Musicians were come, which were before hand provided for this purpose. Rodolfo beheld himself in the looking glass of his Son's face. The Grandfathers and Grandmothers on both sides, wept for very joy; nor was there any corner in all the whole house which was not visited with a jubilee, with exceeding great content and gladness, And although night did fly away with its black nimble wings; yet it seemed to Rodolfo, that it did go and walk, not with wings, but with crutches; so great was the desire which he had to see himself all alone with his beloved Spouse; at last came that desired hour. They all of them went to bed to take their rest, and the whole house remained buried in silence. But so cannot the truth of this story, by reason that the many Children will not give way thereunto▪ and that noble offspring which they have remaining in Toledo. And yet these happy couple are still living, and long may they live, to the joy and comfort of themselves, their Children, and Grandchilds. All which was brought to pass by the permission of Heaven, and by the force of that blood, which the valiant, noble, and Christian Grandfather of Luisico, saw spilt upon the ground.  
The end of the fourth Book.   

THE SPANISH LADY.  
THE fifth BOOK.  
AMongst those many spoils which the Conquerors of the famous Northern Island (governed then by a most noble Queen) carried away from the City of Cadiz; Clotaldo, Captain of a squadron of Ships, brought along with him to Mundolin, metropolis of that Isle, a Girl of the age of seven years, little more or less, and this contrary to the will and knowledge of the General; who with great diligence caused search to be made for the Child, that she might be returned back to her Parents, who had complained unto him, of the wanting of their Daughter; humbly beseeching him, that since his Excellency was pleased to content himself with their goods, and out of his nobleness had left their persons free; that they only might not be so miserable and unhappy, that seeing they were now left poor, they might not berobbed of their Daughter, who was the joy of their hearts, the light of their eyes, and the fairest and beautifullest creature that was in all the City. The General caused Proclamation to be made throughout all the whole Fleet, that upon pain of death, he whosoever had the Child, should restore her back to her Parents. But no penalties, nor fears of punishment could move Clotaldo to obey the General's command. For he kept her very secret and close in his own Ship, standing wonderfully affectioned, though very Christianly, to the incomparable beauty of Isabel, for so was the Child called.  
In conclusion, her Parents remained without her very sad and disconsolate, and Clotaldo beyond measure exceeding glad and joyful. He arrived at Mundolin, and delivered up this fair Maid as a most rich spoil, to his Wife. But as good luck would have it, all they of Clotaldo's house were Christians in heart, though in public they made show to follow the religion of the Country.  
Clotaldo had a Son named Ricaredo, about some 12. years of age, taught by his Parents to love and fear God. Catalina the Wife of Clotaldo, a noble Christian, and prudent Lady, bore such great love and affection to Isabel, (that as if she had been her own Daughter,) she bred, cherished, industriated, and instructed her; and the Child had such good natural abilities, that she did easily apprehend and learn whatsoever they taught her. With time, and the kind usage she received, she went forgetting those cockering of her true Parents; but not so much that she did cease to think on them, and to sigh often for them. And although she went learning the tongue of the Island, yet did she not lose her Spanish. For Clotaldo took care to bring Spaniards secretly to his house, to talk and converse with her. And so without forgetting her own natural language, she spoke the other as well as if she had been born in Mundolin.  
After that they had taught her all manner of works, which a well bred damosel could, or aught to learn, they taught her to read and to write more then indifferently well. But that wherein she did excel, was in playing upon all those Instruments of Music, which might with most decency become a woman; accompanying the same with such a voice which Heaven had bestowed on her in so rare and singular a kind, that when she chanted, she enchanted all that heard her.  
All these her acquired graces, besides those that were natural unto her, went by little and little, kindling the coals of love in Ricaredo's heart; to whom as to her Master's Son, she wished all good and happiness, and carried herself towards him with all fair respects.  
At first love led him on with only a kind of liking and complacency, in beholding the unmatchable beauty of Isabel; and in considering her infinite virtues and graces, and loving her as if she had been his Sister, his desires not going beyond their honest and virtuous bounds. But when as Isabel began to grow towards woman, (for then when Ricaredo burned in the flames of love she was twelve years of age) that his former good will, and that complacency and liking, was turned into most fervent desires of enjoying and possessing her, not that he did aspire thereunto by any other means, then by those of being her Husband; since that from the incomparable beauty of Isabel (for so did they call her) no other thing could be hoped for, neither would he himself, though he could have expected that favour from her; because his noble condition, and the high esteem wherein he held Isabel, would not give the least way or consent, that any the least evil thought should take any rooting in his soul.  
A thousand times did he determine with himself to manifest the love he bore her to his Parents; and again as oft did he not approve this his determination, because he knew that they had dedicated him for to be the husband of a very rich and principal Gentlewoman, a Northern damosel, who was likewise (like them) a close and concealed Christian. And it was clear and apparent, (as he conceived, and said with himself) that they would not be willing to give unto a slave (if this name may be given to Isabel) that which they had treated, and in a manner concluded on to give to a gentlewoman. And therefore being much perplexed and pensive, not knowing what course to take for to attain to the end of his good desire▪ he passed over such a kind of life as had almost brought him to the point of losing it. But it seeming unto him to be great cowardice and faintheartedness, to suffer himself to die without seeking out some kind of remedy for his grief; he did hearten and encourage himself to open his mind, and declare his intent to Isabel.  
All they of the house were very sad and heavy, and much troubled by reason of Ricaredo his sickness. (for he was well beloved of them all,) but his Father and Mother exceeding sorrowful, as well for that they had no other Child, as also for that his great virtue, valour, and understanding did deserve it. The Physicians did not hit right upon his disease, neither durst he, neither would he discover it unto them. In the end, being fully resolved to break through these difficulties which he imagined with himself; one day amongst the rest, that Isabel came in to serve and attend him, seeing her all alone, with a low voice, and a troubled tongue, he spoke unto her after this manner.  
Fair Isabel, thy much worth, thy great virtue, and exceeding beauty, not to be equalled by any; have brought me to that exteamitie wherein you see me; and therefore if you will that I should leave my life in the hands of the greatest extremity that may be imagined; let thy good desire be answerable unto mine, which is no other than to receive thee for my Spouse. But this must be carried closely, and kept hid from my Parents, of whom I am afraid (who because they know that which I know, thy great deservingnesse) that they will deny me that good which doth so much concern me. If thou wilt give me thy word to be mine, I shall forthwith pass mine, as a true Christian to be thine. And put case that I should never come to enjoy thee, as I will not till that I have the Church's benediction, and my Parents good will, yet with this my imagining, that thou wilt be assuredly mine, it will be sufficient to recover me my health, and to make me live merrily and contented, till that happy and desired time shall come.  
Whilst that Ricaredo discoursed thus with her, Isabel stood harkening unto him with down cast eyes, showing in that her modest and sober look, that her honesty did equal her beauty, and her circumspection, her great discretion. And seeing that Ricaredo had made an end of speaking, and was silent; this honest, fair, and discreet damosel made him this answer.  
Since that the rigour or clemency of Heaven (for I know not to which of these extremes I may attribute it) would (Signior Ricaredo) quit me of my Parents, and give me unto yours, (thankfully acknowledging the infinite favours they have done me.) I resolved with myself, that my will should never be any other than theirs; and therefore without it, the inestimable grace and favour which you are willing to do me, I should not hold it a happiness, but a misery, not a good, but a bad fortune. But if they being made acquainted therewith, I might be so happy as to deserve you, from this day forward I offer unto you that will and consent which they shall give me. And in the mean while that this shall be or deferred, or not at all effected; let your desires entertain themselves with this, that mine shall be eternal, and pure, in wishing you all that good which Heaven can give you.  
Here did Isabel put a period to her honest and discreet words, and there began Ricaredo's recovery. And now began to be revived those hopes of his Parents, which in this his sickness were almost quite dead.  
These two modest Lovers with a gseat deal of courtesy and kindness took leave each of other; he with tears in his eyes, she with admiration in her soul, to see that Ricaredo should render up his love, to hers. Who being raised from his bed (to his Parents seeming) by miracle; he would not now any longer conceal his thoughts, and therefore one day he manifested them to his Mother, telling her in the end of his discourse, that if they did not Marry him to Isabel, that to deny him her, and give him his death, it was one and the same thing. With such words, and with such endearings Ricaredo did extol to the Heavens the virtues of Isabel, that it seemed to his Mother, that Isabel had not wrought upon her Son to win him to be her Husband. She did put her Son in good hope so to dispose his Father, that he might like as well thereof, as she did. And it so fell out, that repeating to her Husband word by word, what her Son had said unto her, he was easily moved to give way to that which his Son so earnestly desired, framing excuses to hinder that Marriage, which was in a manner agreed upon for the Northern damosel.  
When this was in agitation, Isabel was 14. years of age, and Ricaredo 20. And in these their so green and flourishing years, their great discretion and known prudence, made them ancient.  
There were but four days wanting to come, which being accomplished, Ricaredo his Parents were willing that their Son should enter into the state of Matrimony, holding themselves both wise, and happy, in having chosen their prisoner to be their Daughter, esteeming more the dowry of her virtues, than the great store of wealth that was offered with the Northern damosel.  
The wedding clothes were already made, their kinsfolk and friends invited thereunto; and there was no other thing wanting, save making the Queen acquainted with Marriage, because without her good will and consent, the amongst those of noble blood, not any Marriage is effected; but they doubted not of her good leave, and licence, and therefore had so long deferred the craving of it.  
I say then, that all things standing in this estate, when there wanted but four days till that of the wedding, one evening gave disturbance to all this their joy. A servant of the Queens came and brought a message to Clotaldo, with express command from her Majesty, that the next morning he should bring to her Presence his Spanish Prisoner that he brought from Cadiz. Clotaldo returned answer, that her Majesty's pleasure should most willingly be obeyed. The Gentleman having delivered his message, and received his answer, went his way, leaving the hearts of all the whole house full of passion, perturbations, and fears.  
Ay me (said the Lady Catalina) if it be come to the Queen's knowledge that I have bred up this Child in the Christian religion; and shall from thence infer that all we of this Family are Christians. Besides, if the Queen shall ask her what she hath learned in eight years since that she was our prisoner; what can the poor harmless soul answer, which shall not (notwithstanding all her discretion) condemn us?  
Which Isabel hearing, spoke thus unto her.  
Let not (dear Lady) this fear give you any trouble at all; for my trust is in God that he will put words into my mouth at that instant, out of his Divine Mercy towards me; that shall not only not condemn you, but that shall much redound to your good.  
Ricaredo was much startled therewith, as divining thereby some ill success. Clotaldo sought out meane●… that might give some courage to his great fear, but found none, save in the great confidence which he had in God, and in the wisdom of Isabel; who earnestly entreated her, that by all the ways she possibly could devise, she should excuse her condemning of them to be Christians; for though in spirit they were ready to receive Martyrdom; yet notwithstanding, the flesh was weak, and were loath to drink of that bitter cup.  
Not once, but often Isabel assured them to rest assured, that for her cause, or any default of hers, that should not succeed which they feared and suspected. For albeit she then knew not what answer to make to those Interrogatories and questions, which in such a case as this might be put unto her; yet had she such a lively and assured hope that she should answer thereunto in such sort (as she had at other times told them) that her answers should rather do them good then hurt.  
They discoursed that night on many things, especially on this particular; that if the Queen had known that they were Christians, she would not have sent them so mild a message; whence they might infer, that she was only desirous to see Isabel, whose unequalled beauty and ability had come to her ears, and to those of the Court, as it did to all those of the City. But because they had not before this presented her unto her Majesty, they found themselves faulty; of which fault, they thought good to excuse themselves, by saying; that from that very instant that she came into his power, he had made choice of her, and as it were marked her out for to be the wife of of his Son Ricaredo. But in this too, they likewise ●…ound themselves faulty, for having made such a match without her Majesty's leave, and licence; howbeit this fault did not seem unto them worthy of any great punishment. With this they comforted themselves, and agreed amongst themselves by a joint consent, that Isabel should not go meanly clad to Court, but like a Bride, since that she was the Spouse of his Son Ricaredo.  
Being thus resolved, the next day they apparelled Isabel after the Spanish fashion; in a gown of green Satin cut upon cloth of gold, embroidered with Esses of pearls, wearing a great chain of most rich orient pearls about her neck, having a hatband of Diamonds, and a Fan in her hand, after the manner of your Spanish Ladies. Her hairs of her head, which were full and long, and of a bright pleasing colour, sown, and interwoven with Diamonds, and Pearls, did serve her instead of a coif. With this most rich dressing and lively disposition, and admirable beauty, She showed herself that day in Mundolin, riding in a fair Caroche, carrying along with her, taken by so beautiful a sight, the souls and eyes of as many as looked on her. There were with her in the same Caroche, Clotaldo and his wife, and Ricaredo, and on horse back many noble gentlemen of their kindred, and Alliance. All this honour Clotaldo was willing to do his Prisoner, for to oblige the Queen to use her as the Spouse of his Son.  
Being come now to the Court, and brought into the Chamber of Presence where the Queen was, Isabel entered thereinto; presenting there the fairest show which can fall within the compass of imagination. The room was large and spacious, and the train that came with her had not gone above two steps forward, but they stood still; and Isabel alone by herself, advanced herself towards the State where the Queen sat; and being thus alone, she seemed to appear just like that star, or exhalation, which by the region of fire is wont to move itself in a clear and quiet night; or like unto a ray, or beam of the Sun; which at the opening of the day discovers itself between two mountains. All this did she seem to be, or rather like a Comet which did prognosticate the inflaming and setting on fire many of those souls that were present, which love had throughly heated, if not burned with the rays of those resplendent suns of beautiful Isabel, who full of humility, and courtesy, made her approaches by degrees, addressing herself to kneel down before the Queen, and then after a short pausing said thus unto her. May it please your most excellent Majesty, so far forth to honour this your servant, that she may kiss your royal hand; so shall I ever hereafter hold myself to be a Lady, since that I have been so happy, as to come to see your greatness.  
The Queen continued looking upon her a good while, without speaking one word; it seeming unto her (as she afterwards told a great Lady of her Bedchamber) that she had a starrified heaven before her; whose stars were those many Pearls, and Diamonds which Isabel bore about her. Her fair face, and eyes were the Sun and Moon; and take all together in the whole piece, she was a new wonder of beauty. The Ladies that attended about the Queen's Person, wished that they had been all eyes, that there might not remain any thing in, or about Isabel, which they might not behold and view at full. Some commended the quickness of her eyes, some the colour of her face, and pureness of complexion; some the properness of her body, and some the sweetness of her speech. And some likewise, who out of mere envy, said; the Spaniard is a very handsome gentlewoman, but her habit and dressing seemeth very strange, and out of fashion. After some little suspension, the Queen causing Isabel to rise up, she said unto her; speak (pretty Maid) unto me in Spanish, for I understand it well, and shall take much pleasure therein. And turning herself towards Clotaldo, she said unto him.  
Clotaldo, you have done Us wrong, in keeping this treasure so long concealed from Us; but it is such, and so rich, that it hath moved you to covetousness; you are bound to restore it unto Us, for by right it is Ours, and properly belongeth unto Vs.  
Madam (answered Clotaldo) it is true which your Majesty saith; I confess my fault, if it be a fault to have kept this treasure, that it might be preserved in that perfection, as was fitting to appear in your Majesty's Presence. And now that it is here before your eye, I thought to have much improved it, by craving your Majesty's leave that Isabel might be the Spouse of my Son Ricaredo, and to give your most excellent Majesty in these two, all that I am able to give you.  
Her very name gives Us very good content (replied the Queen) there could nothing have been more wanting save the name of Isabel the Spaniard, to take off something from that perfection which is in her. But how is it (Clotaldo) that without Our leave you have promised her to your Son?  
It is true Madam (answered Clotaldo) I have made him a promise of her, but it was upon the confidence that the many and notable services which myself, and my Ancestors have done this Crown, might obtain of your Majesty other more difficult favours, than this of your leave; and the rather, for that my Son is not yet espoused unto her.  
Neither shall he (said the Queen) Marry Isabel, till he by himself, and in his own person shall deserve her. Our meaning is, that I will not that either your own or your Ancestors services, shall any whit benefit him him in this particular; but that he in his own person shall dispose himself to serve me, and for to merit for himself, and by his own prowess, this sweet pledge, whom we esteem and reckon of as if she were our own Daughter.  
Isabel had scarce heard this last word delivered, when humbling herself again on her knees before the Queen, she spoke unto her in the Spanish tongue, to this effect.  
As graces, which brings such graces with them (most noble Queen) are rather to be accounted happiness, than misfortunes. And since that your Majesty hath been pleased to grace me with the name of Daughter upon so good a pledge; what ill can I fear? or what good may I not hope for?  
Look what Isabel uttered, came from her so gracefully, and so wittingly, that the Queen stood extremely affected towards her; and commanded that she should remain at Court in her service; and recommended her to a great Lady, the chiefest amongst those of her Bedchamber, that she might train her up according to the Court fashion.  
Ricaredo, who saw that his life was taken away, in taking away Isabel, was ready almost to have lost his wits; and therefore though overtaken with a tumbling and sudden passion of heart, he went and fell upon his knees before the Queen, and said unto her.  
That I may serve your Majesty, I need not to be incited thereunto by any other rewards, then by those which my forefathers, and Ancestors have gotten by serving their Kings. But since that it is your Majesty's pleasure that I should serve you with good desires, and pretensions; I would gladly know, in what kind, and in what employment I may manifest that I comply; with that obligation which I owe unto your Majesty, and put myself to that which you shall impose upon me.  
I have two Ships royal (answered the Queen) ready to put forth to Sea, whereof I have made General the Baron of Lansae, of one of these I make you Captain, him Admiral, and you Vice-admiral. For the blood from whence you come, and runneth in your veins, doth assure me that you will supply the defect of your years; and consider well the favour which we do you, since that therein I give you occasion, that corresponding with that which you are, and doing things answerable to the race from whence you come; by serving your Queen, you may show the worth of your noble disposition, and of your person; and you shall receive thereby the greatest reward, which in your opinion you can wish or desire. I myself will be Isabella's Guard, though she give Us manifest tokens, that her own honesty will be her safest and surest guard. God bless you in your Voyage; and since that you go●…hence deeply (as I imagine) in love, I promise great matters unto myself of your noble exploits. Happy shall that King that goes to war be, who shall have in his Army ten thousand Soldiers that are in love, for they will live in hope that the reward of their victories, shall be the enjoying of their best beloved. Rise up Ricaredo, and bethink yourself if you will or have any thing to say to Isabel, for to morrow you must be gone.  
Ricaredo kissed the Queen's hand, humbly thanking her, and highly esteeming the favour which she did him, and presently went from her to Isabel, and would feign have spoken unto her, but could not, for love and grief had knit such a knot in his throat, and so tied his tongue, that had his life lain upon it, he could not utter one word. But the water stood in his eyes, and were so brimme-full, that they ran over, and silently trickled down his cheeks which he thought to dissemble and smother them, all that he possibly could; yet notwithstanding could he not hide them from the eyes of the Queen, and therefore she said unto him.  
Think it no shame Ricaredo to weep, neither value yourself the less, for having given at this your farewell such tender demonstrations of your heart. For it is one thing to fight with your enemies, and another thing to take your leave of her you love. Isabel, embrace Ricaredo, and give him your benediction, for his excessive sorrow, and loathness to leave you, doth very well deserve it.  
Isabel, who stood amazed and astonished to see Ricaredo's tender heartedness, and how truly he did grieve, and all for her sake, whom she loved as her Husband; did not understand what the Queen had commanded her, but began to shed tears; so without thinking what she did, and stood so still, and without any motion, that it seemed not to be a living soul, but a Statue of Alabaster that wept.  
The affections of these two true and tender lovers, made the standers by to melt likewise into tears. And so Ricaredo without speaking a word to Isabel, or Isabel to him, they turned each from other, and Clotaldo, and they that came with him, doing reverence to the Queen, went out of the Presence full of compassion, discontent, and tears.  
Isabella now remained like a poor Orphan, coming from the burial of her Father and Mother, and as full now of fear, as before of grief; lest that her new Lady to whom she was recommended, would make her to change those manners and customs wherein she had been formerly bred up.  
In conclusion, there she remained, and within two days after Ricaredo hoist sail, and put forth to Sea, beaten amongst many other with this thought, that he must do some notable piece of service, that might entitle him the deserver of Isabel.  
But in conclusion, he besought Heaven to be propitious unto him, that such occasions might be offered unto him; wherein by showing himself valiant, he might comply with the duty of a Christian, leaving the Queen satisfied, and Isabel deserved.  
Six days these two Ships sailed with a prosperous wind, shaping their course for the Tercera Islands; a place where never are wanting, either Ships of Portugal, from the East-Indies, or some that come thither from the West-Indies. And at six day's end there arose such a crosse-winde full in the teeth of them; and continued so long and so strong, that without suffering them to reach the Islands, they were enforced to make for Spain; near unto whose Coast, at the mouth of the Straight of Gihraltar, they descried three Ships; the one a very tall and goodly Ship, and the other two much less. Ricaredo's Ship made up to that which was Admiral, for to know of his General, whether or no he would set upon those three Ships which they had descried. But before that he came up unto them; he might discern that upon the top of the main mast, there was hung out a black streamer, and coming a little nearer, he might hear Fifes, and Trumpets sounding faintly, and hoarsely; clear and apparent signs that the General was dead, or some other principal person of the Ship. At last coming within hearing, that they might speak one to another, which they had not done since their first putting forth; they might hear them from out the Admiral call out aloud unto them, to have the Vice-admiral Ricaredo to come aboard their Ship, because the General the night before died of an Apoplexy.  
All upon this news were very sad, save Ricaredo,, who was inwardly glad, not for the loss of his General, but to see that he was left at liberty, and might freely command both Ships; for so was it ordered by the Queen, that the General miscarrying, Ricaredo should succeed in his room. Who presently went aboard the Admiral, where he found some that mourned for their dead General, and others that rejoiced with him that was now living. In a word, both the one and the other presently yielded him obedience, and with short ceremonies cried him up for their General; two of those three Ships which they had discovered not giving leave for greater, which going aloof from the great Ship, made up to the two Ships. They straight knew them to be Galleys, and Turkish Galleys, by the half Moons which they bore in their flags, which gave Ricaredo great contentment; it seeming unto him, that that prize if Heaven should grant it him, would be of great benefit.  
The Turkish Galleys came to know the Northern ships, who did not carry the Arms of the Island in their flags, but of Spain, for to deceive those that should chance to descry them, and might take them to be Ships of piracy. The Turks thought they had been Ships that had come from the Indies, wasted and spent with their long voyage, and that they would quickly yield and be taken. Whereupon, they came encroaching by little and little upon them, thinking presently to board them, and Ricaredo suffered them to come nearer and nearer unto him, till he had them in command of his Ordnance, and then let fly at them, and giving them a broad side, discharged so luckily, and with such fury, that he shot one of the Galleys thorough, and thorough; so that one half of it lay all open, and naked, which forced them to fly, and make the best shift they could for to escape boarding. The other Galley seeing its fellows ill success, made away in all haste, and strove to put herself under the side of the great Ship. But Ricaredo, who had Ships that were light laden, and were quick and nimble; and such excellent sailors, that they would turn and wind, and come off and on, as if they had been plied with Oars; commanded them to charge the Ordnance anew, chase them even to the ship, showering upon them a world of shot. They of the opened Galley, as soon as they came to the ship, forsook their Galley, and with all possible haste endeavoured to get into the ship. Which being perceived by Ricaredo, and that the sound Gallie imyloyed itself in relieving the other▪ he sets upon her with both his ships, and without giving her leave to tack about, or to make any use of her Oars, he did put her to that straight and exigent, that the Turks likewise that were in her, were forced to flee for refuge to the ship, not with any hope to defend themselves therein, or to stand it out in fight, but for to escape for the present with their lives. The Christians wherewith those Galleys were man'd, tearing up their banks, and breaking their chains, intermingled with the Turks, sought to recover their ship; and as they were clambering up by the side of her, with musket shot from the ships, they went shooting at them, as at a mark; but Ricaredo gave order that they should shoot only at the Turks, and spare the Christians. Thus were all the Turks almost slain; and they who entered the ship with the Christians, for they were mingled one amongst another, making use of their weapons, were cut in pieces. For the force of the valiant when they begin to fall, must yield to the weakness of those that are rising. And therefore the Christians takeing heart, laid about them with such courage and mettle, that they did wonders for the working of their liberty; thinking all this while that those Northern ships were Spanish.  
In conclusion, the Christians having in a manner cut all the Turks throats, some Spaniards showed themselves upon the Deck, and called out a loud unto those whom they supposed to be Spaniards, that they would come aboard them, and enjoy the reward of their victory. Ricaredo asked them in Spanish what ship that was? they told him that she was a Portugal come from the East-Indies laden with spices, and as many Pearls, and Diamonds, as were worth a Million, and that by a storm they were driven upon that Coast, all rent and torn, and without any Ordnance, for the foulness of the weather, and high working of the Sea, enforced them to throw it overboard. That their men were most of them sick, and almost dead of thirst, and hunger; and that those two Galleys which were belonging to the Pirate A●…pantemuam had taken her but the day before, without making any defence at all. And that (as it was told them) because they were not able to carry so great a quantity of riches in those two small Vessels; they towed her along, with purpose to put her into the River of Larache, which was near thereunto.  
Ricaredo returned them answer, that if they conceived that those his two Ships were Spanish, they were deceived, for they were nothing less, but ships belonging to the Queen of the Northern Island. Which news gave those that heard it, occasion of fear, and sorrow; imagining (and not without reason,) that they were fallen out of one net into another. But Ricardo told them that they should receive no harm, and that they should rest assured of their liberty, on condition that they should not put themselves upon their defence. Nor is it possible for us (replied they) so to do; for (as we formerly told you) this Ship hath no Ordnance, nor we any offensive Arms; and therefore we must of force whether we will or no, have recourse to the gentile and noble disposition of your General, and the liberality and courtesy which he shall use towards us; since that it is meet and just that he who hath freed us from the insufferable captivity of the Turks, should reap the reward and benefit thereof, and shall be famoused of all those to whose ears the news shall come, of this memorable victory, and of his kind usage towards them.  
These words of the Spaniard did not found ill in Ricaredo's ears; and therefore calling those of his ship to a council, he demanded of them how he might send all the Christians to Spain, without putting themselves in danger of any simister success; if being so many as they were, they should take courage unto them for to rise up against them? Some were of opinion, that he should pass them one by one to his own Ship, and clapping them under hatches, kill them man after man; and so they might easily and without any noise kill them all, and carry the great Ship along with them to 〈◊〉 without any further fear or care taking. But to this Ricaredo thus replied.  
Since that God hath done us this so great a favour, in giving us such great riches, I will not require him with a cruel and unthankful mind; nor is it meet that that which I may remedy by industry, I should remedy it by the sword. And therefore, I for my part am of opinion, that no Christian should die the death. Not because I wish them so well, but because I wish well to myself, and would that this days noble action, neither to me, nor to you, should mingle the name of valiant, with the surname of cruel; for cruelty did never sort well with valour. That which is to be done, is this; that all the Ordnance of one of these our Ships, be put into the great Portugal Ship, without leaving the Ship any Arms, or any other thing, save sufficient victual. And so manning that Ship with our men, we will carry it home, and the Spaniards go in the other to Spain.  
None durst contradict that which Ricaredo had propounded, and some held him to be valiant, magnanimous, and of good understanding and judgement; and others in their hearts, to be more courteous than he ought to have been,  
Ricaredo then having resolved on this course, he put 50▪ Musketeers into the Portugal Ship all ready fitted and furnished, their Pieces charged with shot, and their matches burning in their cocks. He found in the Ship well near 300. persons, with those that had escaped out of the galleys. He presently called for their Cocket, or bill of lading; and the same person who at first spoke to him from the Deck made him answer; that the Turkish Pirate had already taken their Cocket from them, and that it was drowned with him. He did instantly put his pulley in order, and bringing his lesser vessel and lashing it close to the side of the great Ship with wonderful celerity, and with the help of strong ropes, they hoist all their Ordnance with their Carriages, out of the lesser into the greater Ship.  
This being done, he forthwith made a short speech to the Christians; he commanded them to go into the Ship that was now disincumbred, where they should find good store of victual for more than a month, and more mouths than they had. And as they went Embarking themselves, he gave to every one of them four Spanish Pistolets, which he caused to be brought from his own Ship, for to relieve in part their necessity when they came on land; which was so near, that from thence they might ken the high mountains of Avila, and Calpe. All of them gave him infinite thanks for the favour he had done them; and the last that went to embark himself, was he who had been the mouth of the rest, who said unto Ricaredo.  
Most valiant sir, I should hold it a happiness for me, amidst these my misfortunes, and the greater of the two; that you would rather carry me along with you to Mundolin, then send me into Spain. For albeit that it be my Country, and that it is not above six days since I left it, yet shall I not find any thing therein which will not minister occasions unto me of reviving my former sorrows, and solitudes. I would have you to know (noble sir) that in the loss of Cadiz, which is now some 15. years since, I lost a Daughter which some of the Conquerors carried away into their own Country; and with her, I lost the comfort of my old age, and the light of mine eyes, which since they might not see her, have never seen that thing which could be pleasing unto them. The great discontentment wherein her loss left me, together with that of my wealth, which likewise was taken from me; brought me to that low ebb, that I neither would, nor could any more exercise the trade of Merchandise, whose great dealings in that kind, made me in the opinion of the world, held to be the richest Merchant in all that City. And indeed so I was, for besides my credit, which would pass for many hundred thousands of crowns, the wealth that I had within the doors of mine own house, was more than fifty thousand Ducats. All which I lost, yet had I lost nothing, so as I had not lost my Daughter. After this general misfortune, and so particularly mine; necessity (the more to vex me) set upon me, never ceasing to give me over, till such time as not being able any longer to resist her; my Wife and I (which is that sorrowful woman that sits there) resolved to go for the Indies, the common refuge of poor Gentlemen; and having embarked ourselves but six days since in a ship of Advise, we had no sooner put out of Cadiz, but that those two Vessels of the Pirates, took our ship, and we become their slaves. Whereupon our misery was renewed, and our misfortune confirmed. And it had been greater, had not the Pirates taken that ship of Portugal, who entertained them so long, till that succeeded which you have seen.  
Ricaredo then asked him, what was his daughter's name?  
He answered, Isabel.  
With this Ricaredo ceased to be confirmed further in that which before he suspected; which was, that he who recounted this unto him, was his beloved Isabella's Father; and without giving him any tidings of her, he told him, that very willingly he would carry him and his Wife to Mundolin, where happily they might hear some news of that which they so much desired. He made them presently go aboard his own ship, leaving Mariners and soldiers sufficient in that of Portugal.  
That night they hoist sail, and set themselves to get off from the coast of Spain; and for that in the ship wherein were the freed Captives, there were likewise 20 Turks, whom Ricaredo had also set at liberty; for to show, that more out of his own noble disposition, and generous mind, he had dealt so graciously with them, then enforced by that love which he bore to the Christians; he entreated the Spaniards at their parting, that upon the first occasion that should offer itself, they should set the Turks at liberty, wherein they ●…hould show themselves thankful unto him.  
The wind, which gave good tokens of being large, and prosperous, began to be very much calmer, which calm did stir up a great tempest of fear in the Mariners and Soldiers; who blamed Ricaredo, and his bounty, not sticking to tell him, that they whom he had freed, might give advise of their success in Spain; and that if happily they should have their galleons lying there in the Haven, they might put forth to Sea in search of them, and so put them to a narrow straight, and in danger of losing, together with their lives, all that Treasure which they had got.  
Ricaredo knew very well that they had reason on their side, but overcoming all of them with good words, he made them quiet; but that which did most quiet them, was the wind which returned again to re-infresh itself in such sort, that having as fair a gale as could blow in the sky, they clapped on all their sails, without having need to strike any one of them, or but in the least manner to restrain them; within Nine days they came within sight of Mundolin. And when they were returned home thus victorious, there were thirty wanting of those that went that Voyage.  
Ricaredo would not enter the River with tokens of joy, by reason of the death of his General; and therefore mixed his joyful, with sorrowful signs. One while the Trumpets sounding loud, and shrill; and another while low, and hoarse; one while the Drums did beat lively, and the Flutes go merrily, and another while dead, and softly, answering each other with mournful and lamentable notes. On one of the Cages of the ship hung the contrary way, a flag embroidered with half Moons; and on another, a long streamer of black Taffeta, whose points did mock the water.  
In conclusion, with these and the like contrary extremes, they entered the River with their ●…wn ship, because the other drew so much water, that the River could not bear her, and therefore lay at anchor in the Sea.  
Th●…se such contrary signs and tokens, held a world of people in suspense, who beheld them from each side of the shore. They knew very well by some Arms and Coats in their Colours, that that lesser ship was the Admiral wherein the Lord of Lansac went; but they could not guess how that other ship should come to be changed for that great vast ship which lay at Sea. But they were quickly put out of this doubt, by Ricaredo's leaping out of his b●…at o●… shore in rich and resplendent Arms, like a Soldier; who a foot, without staying for any other company, attended only with the innumerable vulgar that followed him; he went directly to the Court, where the Queen being in a Gallery, stood expecting the news should be brought her of her ships.  
There was▪ besides many other Ladies with the Queen, Isabella▪ apparelled after the Island fashion, though with a little touch of the Spanish. Before that Ricaredo came, there came another, who told the Queen that Ricaredo was come. Isabel hearing the name of Ricaredo, began to change colour, and seemed to be somewhat troubled, and in that very instant did fear and hope, both the evil and good success of his coming.  
Ricaredo was ●…ll of stature, a gentleman, and well proportioned, and for that he came Armed with his Gorget, Corsele●…, and Powderns, all Milan work, richly gilded and engraven, it became him extremely well▪ and did please the eyes of the beholders. He had no Cask on his head, but abroad 〈◊〉 hat of a Lion colour, with a great large feather, diversified with a few different colours; abroad shortf●…ord by his side, a very rich girdle and hungers, a●…d his breeches somewhat large, and full, like unto those of the S●…zzers.  
Being thus ac●…utered, what with the goodliness of his p●…sence, and stateliness of his gate; some were so taken their with, that they compared him to M●…s the god of War; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 taken with the beautifulness of his countenance compared him to Venus, who for to put a jest upon Mars, had put this disguise upon him. In conclusion, he came before the Queen, and humbling himself on his knee, he said unto her.  
Most renowned, and redoubted Sovereign, in the strength of your good fortune, and in the consecution of my desire; after that our General the Lord of Lansac was dead of an Apoplexy, I succeeding in his place (thanks be rendered therefore to your Majesty) I lighted by chance on two Turkish galleys, which went towing away that great ship which I have now brought home, and lies not far off safe in the road. I did set upon them, your Soldiers fought as they always use to do, very manfully; we sunk both the Turkish Vessels, and in one of ours, I gave in your Majesty's royal name liberty to the Christians, which escaped out of the hands of the Turks. Only I brought along with me one man, and a woman, both Spaniards; who out of their own liking and election, were wonderfully desirous to come with me into our Island, that they might see the greatness of your Majesty's Person, and Court. That ship which is now yours, is a Portugal, one of those great Carricks which come from the East-Indies, the which by a storm came to fall into the power of the Turks; who with little trouble, or to say better, none at all, made her to yield herself unto them; and as I am informed by some of those Portugals that came in her, she is worth above a Million in gold, and Spice, and other rich Merchandise of Pearls, and Diamonds, which are in her, whereof nothing hath hitherto been touched, neither did the Turks come to finger any thing therein; because Heaven hath dedicated i●… wholly unto you, and I have commanded it to be kept and reserved whole and entire for your Majesty▪ which with one jewel only that your Majesty shall be pleased to bestow upon me, I shall remain indebted for ten such other ships. Which jewel your Majesty hath already promised me, which is, my good Isabel. With her I shall rest rich, and rewarded; not only for this service that I have done your Ma●…estie, but for many other which I mean to do, for to pay some part of that great, if not infinite worth, which in this jewel your Majesty offereth me.  
Arise Ricaredo (replied the Queen) and believe me, that if I should upon a price give you Isabel according to that value I esteem her at, you would never be able to pay it, neither with that which you have brought home in this ship, nor with all that treasure which remaineth in the Indies. Well, I will give her you, because I made you a promise of her, and because she is worthy of you, and you of her, your valour only doth deserve her. And if you have kept those jewels of the Ship for me▪ I have likewise kept this your jewel for you. And albeit it may seem unto you that I have not done any great mat●…er for you, in returning you that which is your own▪ yet I know that I do you an especial favour therein; for those pledges that are bought by our desires, and have their estimation and value in the soul of the buyer, they are worth a World, there being no price that can countervail it. Isabel is yours, there she is; and when you will yourself, you may take possession of her, and I believe with her good liking and content; for she is discreet, and knows well how to weigh the friendship which you do her, for I will not style it by the name of favour, but friendship; for I will take that name only upon me of doing favours. Go, and take your ease, and come and wait upon Us to morrow, and then will I more particularly hear you relate unto Us what you did in this▪ Voyage, and how valiantly you behaved yourself. And bring those two with you, who you say were so willing to come and see Us, that We may than●… them for their love.  
Ricaredo thanked her Majesty for the many favours she had done him. And then the Queen presently left the Gallery, and retired herself. And the Ladies came round about Ricaredo; and one of them which held great love and friendship with Isabel▪ called the Lady Tansi; accounted the discreetest, the wittiest, and pleasantest amongst them, said unto Ricaredo, what means this Ricaredo? what Arms are these? Did you happily imagine that you came to fight with your enemies? believe me, we all here are your friends, unless it be Isabel; who for that she is a Spaniard, is bound not to hear you any good will. Sure (my Lady Tansi) she bears me ●…me; for since that she hath me in her remembrance (said Ricaredo) I know that her good will is towards me; for the foulness of being unthankful, cannot have the least footing in her so great worth, understanding, and incomparable beauty.  
Whereunto Isabel replied, Signior Ricaredo, since that I am to be yours, it is in your power to take all satisfaction whatsoever you will of me, that I may make you some small requital of those undeserved praises which you have given me, and of those further favours which you intent to do me.  
These and other the like honest discour●…ngs, Ricaredo passed with Isabel, and with the rest of the Ladies; amongst which, there was ●… pretty little damosel, young both in growth, and years, who did nothing but gaze upon Ricaredo all the while he was there; she lifted up his ●…ases, to see if he had any thing under them; she tampered with his sword, and in a Childish simplicity, would make his glittering Armour her looking Glass, coming very near thinking to see her face in them. And when she went away from him▪ turning herself to the Ladies, she said; Now (Ladies) I assure you, I imagine that War is a most beautiful thing; since that even amongst Women ar●… m●…n look lovely. And ●…ow can they otherwise choose? (replied the Lady Tansi) if not, look upon Ricaredo, who looks like the Sun, come down from Heaven on earth, and in that habit goes walking up and down amongst us. They all of them laughed at the little Maids simplicity, and no less at the ridiculous Rodamantado of the Lady Tansi. And some murmurers were not wanting, who held it an impertinency, that Ricaredo should come armed to Court. Though other some sought as much to excuse him, saying; that as a Soldier he might do it, for to show his bravery and gallantry.  
Ricaredo was by his Parents, friends, kinsfolk, and acquaintance received, with lively expressions of singular love and affection. And that night there were made general bonfires throughout Mundolin, and other public tokens of their joy. The father and mother of Isabel were already in Clotaldo's house, whom Ricaredo had acquainted who they were; but entreated his Parents that they might not have any the least notice given them of Isabel, till that he himself should give it them; the like advice was given to all the servants of the house.  
That very night, accompanied with many boats, barges, and barks, and with no fewer eyes to look on them. The great Ship began to discharge her lading, which in eight days could not be disburdened of her Pepper, and other rich Merchandise which she had in her bulk. The next day after Ricaredo went to Court, carrying with him the father and mother of Isabel, both of them being newly clad after the fashion of Mundolin, telling them that the Queen desired to see them.  
They came all of them where the Queen was sitting amidst her Ladies expecting Ricaredo, whom she was willing to grace and favour, by placing Isabel next to her, having on the same attire and dressing which she wore when she came first to the Court; appearing therein no less beautiful now, than she did th●… The Parents of Isabel were strucken with admiration and wonder, to see so much greatness, and bravery met together. They settled their eyes on Isabel, but did not know her, though their hearts (presages of that good which was so near them) began to leap in their bosoms; not out of any sudden passion that might cause sorrow or grief in them, but out of I know not what pleasure and contentment, which they could not hit upon to understand aright.  
The Queen would not suffer Ricaredo to continue kneeling before her, but made him rise, and willed him to sit down in a velvet chair, which was by her appointment set there for that purpose; an unusual favour, considering the stately condition of the Queen. And one whispered in another's ●…are, Ricaredo sits not on the chair which was brought him, but on the Pepper which he brought in. Another says unto him that stood by him; now is that old Proverb verified, Que dadivas, que brantan pennas, that gifts will break through stone walls; for those that Ricaredo hath given her Majesty, hath softened and mollified our Queen's hard heart. Another tells his next fellow, now that he is well seated, more hands than two must go to it to heave him out.  
In conclusion, from that grace and honour which the Queen was pleased to do Ricaredo; envy took occasion to grow in many of those Courtier's breasts, who were eye-witnesses of this her Majesty's extraordinary favour extended towards him. For there is not that favour which a Prince confers on his Favourite, which is not a spear that pierceth the heart of the envious.  
The Queen was desirous to know from Ricaredo, point by point, how that fight passed with the Turkish Pirates Galleys; he recounted it a new, attributing the victory to God, and the valour of his Soldiers; endearing the services of them all jointly▪ and particularising the valiant acts of some of them, who had put themselves most forward, and done her Majesty very notable service; wher-hee obliged the Queen to do all of them favours, and in particular, those particular persons.  
And when he began to speak of the liberty which in her Majesty's name he had given the Turks, and Christians, he said unto her. That Woman, and that Man who stand there (pointing to Isabella's Parents) are they whom yesterday I told your Majesty, who out of the great desire which they had to see your greatness, and magnificence; did so earnestly entreat me that I would bring them along with me. They are of Cadiz, and by that which they have told me, and by that likewise which I have seen and observed in them, I know that they are of especial rank, and worth.  
The Queen commanded them that they should draw near unto her; Isabel lifted up her eyes that she might see these who said they were Spainyards, and more particularly of Cadiz; out of a desire that she had to learn if happily they knew her Parents. And just as Isabel lifted up her eyes, her Mother fixed hers upon her, and stood still a while, that she might view and behold her the more attentively. And on the other side there began to be awakened in Isabella's memory, some certain confused notions, which gave her to understand, that heretofore she had seen that Woman which stood before her. Her Father was in the like confusion, without daring to determine to give credit to that truth which his eyes represented unto him.  
Ricaredo was very attentive to see and observe the affections and motions of these three doubtful and perplexed souls, which were so confounded and amazed, between the yea and nay of knowing each other. The Queen took notice of both their suspensions, as also of Isabella's distractions, by her inter-while sweatings, by her changing colour, and by her lifting up her hand to order and compose her ●…ayre.  
Isabella thus troubled, not knowing well what to think of it, did earnestly wish that she would speak, whom she imagined might be her Mother; for perad venture her ears would put her out of that doubt whereinto her eyes had put her. The Queen willed Isabel that she should speak. Spanish to that woman, and that man; and they should tell her what was the cause that moved them not to accept and enjoy that their liberty which Ricaredo had given them; being that liberty is a thing above all other, the dearest and best beloved, not only of reasonable creatures, but of those that want it. All this Isabel demanded of her Mother, who without returning her any one word, suddenly, and half stumbling for haste, came unto Isabel; and without regarding respect, fear, or the Courtiers looking on her, with her hand she lifted up Isabella's right ear, and having there discovered a black mole; which mark confirmed her suspicion, and plainly perceiving that it was her Daughter Isabel, she could no longer contain herself, but embracing her, cried out aloud, saying; Oh Daughter of my heart! Oh dear pledge of my soul! and not being able to utter a word more; her speech failing, she fainted and fell into a swound in Isabella's arms.  
Her Father no less tender than prudent, gave manifest signs how sensible he was of all this; but with no other words then a silent shedding of tears, which softly trickling down bedewed both his cheeks, and beard. Isabel laid her face to that of her Mother, and turning her eyes towards her Father, in such a kind of manner looked on him, that thereby she gave him to understand the pleasure and contentment her soul took in seeing them there.  
The Queen wondering at this so rare and strange an accident, said to Ricaredo; I conceive (Ricaredo) that this interview was thus preordered in your discretion; but I must tell you, I know not whether you did well in so doing. For we see by experience, that a sudden joy as soon kills, as a sudden sorrow. And having said this, she turned herself to Isabel, and took her apart from her Mother, who having a little water sprinkled in her face, came again to herself; and calling her wits a little better about her, humbling herself on her knees before the Queen, she●… said unto her.  
I beseech your Majesty to pardon my boldness, for it is no marvel that I should forget myself, and lose my senses, with the overmuch joy I have received in the finding out this my beloved pledge.  
The Queen made answer, that she had a great deal of reason on her side (making use of an Interpreter that she might the better understand her.)  
Isabel came in this manner (as I told you before) to the knowledge of her Parents, and her Parents of her; whom the Queen commanded to reside in the Court, to the end that they might with the better leisure, both see, and talk with their Daughter, and rejoice and make merry with her. Wherewith Ricaredo was wonderful well pleased, and craved a new of the Queen, that she would be pleased to make good her promise, by bestowing Isabel upon him, in case he did deserve her; and if not, he humbly besought her Majesty, that she would be pleased presently to put him upon some other employment, that might make himself worthy of obtaining that which he so earnestly desired.  
The Queen understood very well, that Ricaredo rested well satisfied of himself, and of his great valour; insomuch that there needed not only new proofs for to qualify him. And therefore told him, that four days from that present being fully ended, she would deliver Isabel unto him, doing both of them all the grace and honour she possible could. Upon this answer, Ricaredo took his leave, being the most joyful, and most contented 〈◊〉 i●… the world; transported with that near 〈◊〉 which 〈◊〉 now had of having Isabel in his power, without any fear of losing her, which is the last and utmost desire of Lovers.  
Time ran, but not with that light and nimble foot as he wished. For they who live by the hope of promise to come; do evermore imagine, that time doth not fly with wings swift enough, but that he hath lead tied to his heels, and treads the steps of slothfulness itself.  
Well, at last came that desired day, not wherein Ricaredo thought to put an end to his desires, but to find in Isabel new graces which might move him to love her the more, if more he could, than he did already. But in that short time, when as he thought the ship of his good fortune sailed with a prosperous wind towards the desired Port; a contrary chance, and cross accident, raised up in this calm sea such a tempestuous storm, that he feared a thousand times to see it sunk.  
The case than is this. The chief Bed chamber Lady to the Queen, to whose charge Isabel was committed; had a Son of the age of 22. years, called the Earl of Arnesto. The greatness of his estate, the nobleness of his blood, and the great favour which his Mother held with the Queen, made him not only do those things which did not become him, and to break out into excesses; but also made him arrogant, proud, haughty, and confident of himself.  
This Arnesto than was enamoured of Isabel, and so ens●…edly▪ that his very soul did burn in the sparkling light of Isabella's eyes. And albeit in that time that Ricaredo was absent, he had by some signs discovered his desires; 〈◊〉 was he never admitted by Isabel, or received any the least encouragement. And how be it that repugnancy, and disdains in loves infane ie, are wont to make lovers to desist from their enterprise; yet in Arnesto, the many and known disdains which Isabel showed him, wrought the clean contrary; for he was set on fire with his own jealousies, and burned with desire to attempt her honesty.  
And for that he saw that Ricaredo in the Queen's opinion had deserved Isabel, and that within so little a while she was to be given unto him for Wife, he was ready to run into despair, and to offer violence to himself. But before that he would go about to use so infamous and cowardly a remedy, he broke with his Mother, entreating her that she would speak unto the Queen to give him Isabel to be his Wife; which if she did not bring to pass, that he would then have her to know, and assuredly believe, that death stood knocking at the doors of his life.  
The Mother wondered to hear such words fall from her Son, and for that she knew the roughness of his harsh nature, and headstrong condition, and the fastness wherewith these desires did cleave unto his soul, she was afraid that this his love would end in some sinister success, and unhappy issue; yet notwithstanding, as a Mother (to whom it is natural to desire and procure the good of her Children,) she promised to prefer his pretention to the Queen, though not with any hope to obtain such an impossibility of her, as the breaking of her Princely word; but that she might not omit to try in so desperate a case the utmost remedy.  
And Isabel being that morning apparelled by order from the Queen, so richly, that my Pen dares not presume to deliver the manner thereof unto you; and the Queen herself having put a chain of Pearl about her neck, the best that was brought home by Ricaredo in the Ship, valued at twenty thousand ducats; and a Diamond Ring on her finger worth six thousand or thereabouts. And the Ladies being assembled and met together for to celebrate the approaching feast of this glorious wedding, came in the chief Bedchamber woman to the Queen▪ and besought her on her knees that she would be pleased to suspend Isabella's espousals two days more. For with this favour only which her Majesty should do her, she should hold herself well satisfied and recompensed for all whatsoever she deserved, or hoped for her service.  
The Queen would first know of her why she did so earnestly desire this suspension, which went so directly against her word, which she had given to Ricaredo. But that Lady would not render her the reason, until that she had granted her request; and that then she would make it known unto her. The Queen longed to know the cause of that her demand. And therefore after that the Lady had obtained that which she much desired, she recounted to her Majesty the love that her Son bare to Isabel; and how that she feared that if she were not given him to wife, he will either grow desperate to his utter undoing, or do some scandalous act or other. And that whereas she had craved those two days of delaying the business, it was only to this end and purpose, that her Majesty might have time to think upon some course, what might in her Majesty's wisdom be most sit and convenient for her Sons good.  
The Queen made answer, that if she had not passed unto her her royal word, she would easily have found a way to get out of that labyrinth. But that she would neither break her promise with her nor yet defraud Ricaredo of his hopes, for all the interess of the World.  
This answer the Lady of the Bedchamber gave her Son, who flying instantly from his Mother, ●…rying in the flames of love and jealousy▪ armed himself at all points; and being mounted upon a fair and strong limmed Horse, pr●…ented himself before the house of 〈◊〉. And with aloud voice, requested that Ricaredo would come to the window that he might speak a word with him▪ who at that instant was all in his gallantry, like a bridegroom, and was even upon the point of going to Court, with such company as such a solemnity required. But having heard a loud call, and being told who he was that called unto him, and in what kind of fashion he came; being somewhat troubled with it, he came to the window; whom as soon as Arnesto saw, he said unto him.  
Ricaredo, harken well unto that which I shall now tell thee. My Mistress the Queen commanded thee to go forth in her service, and to do such noble exploits as should make thee worthy of deserving, the not to be paralleled, incomparable Isabel. Thou didst go, and returnedst with thy ships laden with gold, wherewith thou thinkst that thou hast bought, and deserved Isabel. And albeit the Queen my Mistress hath promised her unto thee; it was as being persuaded, that there was not any one in Court that hath done her better service, nor any that with better title may deserve Isabel; and herein it may very well be that she was deceived. And therefore leaning to this opinion, which I hold for an approved▪ truth, I tell thee; that thou hast neither done such things as may make thee to deserve Isabel; neither canst thou do any which may be able to raise thee to so great a height of happiness. And therefore in regard that thou nor dost, nor canst deserve her; if thou shalt avouch the contrary, I challenge thee the field, and defy thee to the death. And here the Earl ended his speech; and Ricaredo made answer thereunto after this manner.  
This challenge (my Lord) doth in no manner of wife concern me; for I ingeniously confess, that I not only not deserve Isabel; but that there is not that man 〈◊〉 living in the world that doth deserve her. So that I confessing that to be true which you say, this your challenge 〈◊〉 way toucheth me; yet notwithstanding I accept of it, for that your insolency, and indiscretion which you have shown in this your challenging of me.  
And with this he withdrew himself from the window, and called in all haste for his Arms. This unexpected cross accident much troubled his Parents, and all those that were come to Clotaldo's house, to accompany Ricaredo to the Court.  
Amongst those many that had seen the Earl Arnesto armed, and had heard the challenge he had made; there were not some wanting who acquainted the Queen therewith. Who commanded the Captain of her Guard that he should go presently and apprehend the Earl. The Captain made such good haste, that he came just in the very nick, when as Ricaredo was going out of his house, armed with those arms wherein he disimbarqued, being mounted on a goodly Horse.  
When the Earl saw the Captain of the Guard, he forthwith imagined the cause of his coming; and determined (if possibly he could avoid it) not to be apprehended. And speaking aloud to Ricaredo, said.  
Thou now seest (Ricaredo) the impediment which hinders us from deciding this quarrel. If (notwithstanding this interruption) thou shalt have a mind to chastise me, thou wilt seek after me▪ and I shall have the like mind to chastise thee, and seek likewise after thee; and since two that seek after each other, are easily found; let the execution of our desires ●…urecase for the present.  
Content, replied Ricaredo.  
By this time the Captain was come in with all the Guard, and told the Earl that he must yield himself his Prisoner; for in her Majesty's name he was to apprehend him▪ The Earl yielded himself unto him; and told the Captain that he submitted himself to her Majesty's Command; but with this condition, that he should not carry him to to any otherplace, save the Queen's Presence.  
The Captain remained therewith satisfied, and carrying him in the midst of the Guard, brought him to Court before the Queen. Who had already been informed by his Mother, of the great love which her Son bare to Isabel; and with tears besought her Majesty that she would pardon the Earl, who being a young man, and deeply in love, was liable to far greater errors. Arnesto was brought before the Queen, who without entertaining any speech with him, commanded his sword to be taken from him, and afterwards sent him to Prison.  
All these things tormented the heart of Isabel, as likewise of her Parents, who so suddenly saw the sea of their quietness troubled.  
The Lady of the Bedchamber, Arnesto's Mother advised the Queen, that for to remove that mischief betwixt her house, and that of Ricaredo, that the cause thereof might be taken away; which was Isabel, by sending her into Spain, and so those effects would cease, which now were to be feared.  
Whereunto the Queen answered; that for the sending of her into Spain, she should treat no more on that point; because her fair presence, and her many graces and virtues▪ gave her great content; and that doubtless, if not that very day, the next following, without all fail she would marry her to Ricaredo, according to the promise she had made him.  
With this resolution of the Queens; Arnesto's Mother was so disheartened and discomforted, that she replied not so much as one word. And approving that for good, which she had already forecasted in her mind, that there was no other way, no other means in the world, for the mo●…ifying of that rigorous condition of her Son, nor for the reducing of Ricaredo to terms of peace, save by ●…aking away of Isabel. She determined to put in practice one of the greatest cruelties that could ever enter into the thought of any noble woman, and especially so principal a one as she was. And this her determination was, to make away Isabel by poison. And because it is commonly the condition of women to be speedy, and resolute in what they go about; that very evening she gave Isabel poison in a certain Conserve, forcing her in a manner to take it, telling her that it was excellent good against those passions of the heart, wherewith she seemed to be troubled.  
Having satisfied her importunity, within a little while after that Isabel had taken it, her tongue and her throat began to swell, and her lips to grow black, her voice hoarse, her eyes troubled, and her stomach and bowels tormented with gripe; all manifest signs and tokens that she was poisoned.  
The Ladies came to the Queen, acquainting her Majesty how it was with her; and certifying her, how that the Lady of her bedchamber who had the charge of Isabel, had done her this ill office. There needed not much pressing to induce the Queen to believe that it was true; and therefore went presently to see Isabel, who was almost breathing her last.  
The Queen commanded her Physicians should be sent for in all haste, and in the mean▪ while before they came, she caused a quantity of the powder of Vnicornes-horne to be given her, and some other preservatives▪ against poison, which great Princes use always to have ready at hand, upon the like cases of necessity. The Physicians came and applied their best remedies, and besought the Queen that she would be pleased to cause that Lady of her Bedchamber to make known unto them what kind of poison that was which she had given her; for it was not to be doubted that any other person but herself had poisoned her. She did discover what she had given her; and having notice of it, the Physicians applied so many and such effectual remedies, that by the in and Gods helping hand, Isabella remained with life, or at least in good hope of having it.  
The Queen commanded her Bedchamber woman to be apprehended, and to be locked up in a straight and narrow lodging in her Court, with intention to punish her according to the nature and quality of this her soul offence. Although that she sought to excuse herself by saying, that in kill Isabel she did sacrifice to the gods, by ridding the earth of a Christian; and together with her, removing the occasion of her Sons further quarrels.  
This sad news being brought to Ricaredo, made him almost out of his wits; such were the things he did, and such were the complaints he made.  
In conclusion Isabel did not lose her life, yet the poison had gotten that power over her, that she lost the hair of her head, and of her eyebrows, her face was strangely puffed up, the grain of her skin spoilt, her complexion marred, her whole body mightily swollen, and her eyes distilling watery humours. In a word, she was grown so soul and ill favoured; that she, who till then seemed to be a miracle of beauty, did now seem to be a monster of ugliness. And they who knew her before, held it the greater misfortune of the two, that she remained in this evil plight, then if she had died of the poison. Notwithstanding all this, Ricaredo sued a new unto the Queen for her, and besought her Majesty that she would give him leave to carry her home to his house, because the love which he bore her, passed from his body to his soul; yet comforted himself with this, that though Isabel had lost her beauty, yet could she not lose her infinite virtues.  
Thou say o●…t crew, replied the Queen, go take her home with thee Ricaredo, and make account that thou carriest with thee a most rich jewel in a course case. I would have given her as fair to thee, as thou deliveredst her unto me. But since this is not possible▪ forgive me that faul●…▪ happily the chastisement which I shall give to the com●… of this soul 〈◊〉, shall in part satisfy thy desire of ●…nge.  
Many things did Ricaredo say unto the Queen, seeking to excuse the Lady of her Bedchamber, beseeching her Majesty to pardon her, since that the reasons she alleged in her excuse, were sufficient for to move her to forgive her greater excesses than these.  
In conclusion, Isabel and her Parents were delivered unto him, and Ricaredo carried them home, I mean to his Father's house. To those rich Pearls, and that Diamond, the Queen added other jewels, and other changes of raiment; which were such, and so costly, that they discovered the great love which she bore to Isabel, who remained for the space of two months, without being able to be reduced to her former beauty. But the time being past, her skin began to peel and fall away, and a fair and smooth grain of skin to disclose itself.  
In this interim, Ricaredo's Parents presuming that it was not possible that Isabel should become the same woman which heretofore she was; resolved to send for that Northern damosel, with whom before that ever they treated with Isabel, Ricaredo (by agreement) was to marry. And all this they did without his knowledge, not doubting, but that the present beauty of this new bride, would blot out of his Son's remembrance, that of Isabel, which was now past; whom either they purposed to send into Spain, together with her Father and Mother, giving them such store of wealth and riches, as should fully recompense their former received losses▪  
There passed not above a month and a half, when as without Ricaredo's privity, the new spouse entered within his Father's doors, accompanied like herself, very well, and so fair and beautiful a creature, that next to Isabel, when she was in her prime, there was not the like unto her in all ●…dclin. Ricaredo was mightily startled with the sudden and unexpected sight of the damosel, and feared least the suddenness of her coming▪ would put Isabel into some passion, and make an end of her life. And therefore, for to remove this fear, he went to the beds-side where Isabel lay; and finding her only accompanied with her Father and Mother before them, he spoke unto her after this manner.  
Isabel of my soul; my Parents out of the great love which they bear unto me, being not as yet well informed of that exceeding love which I still bear unto thee, have brought a damosel into this house, with home they have treated and concluded to marry me, before that I should know the worth that is in thee, or that thou shouldst recover thy lost health. And this they have done (as I verily believe) with intention, that the great beauty of this damosel should blot thine out of my soul, which is therein so deeply engraven. I (Isabel) from the very instant that I loved thee, it was with another kind of love than that which hath its aim, and end, in satisfying the sensual appetite. For albeit, that thy corporal beauty did captivate my senses; yet thy infinite virtues were they which imprisoned my soul; so that if being fair I did love thee, being now foul I adore thee. And for the further confirming of this truth, give me this hand, and she giving him her right hand, and and he holding it fast in his, prosecuted his speech, saying. By that faith which my Christian Parents taught me; and by that true God who heareth what we say, I promise thee (my dear Isabel) the one half of my heart, I vow myself thy Husband, and am so even from this very hour, if thou wilt raise me to that height of happiness to be thine.  
Isabel remained in some suspense upon these words of Ricaredo, and her Parents amazed and astonished, she knew not what to say, nor do any other thing, save her often kissing of Ricaredo's hand, and telling him with a voice intermingled with tears, that she accepted him for hers, and rendered herself to be his servant. Ricaredo kissed that her foul face, which when it was fair, he durst never presume to touch. Isabella's Parents with tender and many tears solemnize this nuptial feast. Ricaredo told them, that he would put off his marrying with the Northern damosel which was now in the house, in such manner as he would hereafter give them to understand. And in case that his Parents should send all three of them into Spain, that they should not decline it, but by all means get them go; and that they should look for him within two years, either in Cadiz, or Sevilla; assuring them in the word of a Gentleman, that ere that time were expired, he would not fayleto bee with them, if Heaven should so long lend him life: and that if the time prefixed should be preterlapsed, they should then rest assured, that some great impediment or death, which was the more certain, had crossed his intended journey.  
Isabel made him answer, that she would not stay only two years for him, but all those of his life, till that she were truly certified, that he had left this life. And that, in that instant that this should come to her knowledge, the same likewise would be her death.  
With these kind words, fresh tears fell from them all. And Ricaredo went and told his Parents, that he would by no means be married, nor give his hand to the Northern damosel to be his Spouse, till he had quieted his mind by a years travel. He knew well how to express himself, and gave them such good reasons for it; as likewise to the Parents that came with Clisterna (for that was the Damosels name) that being (as they were) all Christians, they did easily give credit unto them; and Clisterna was contented to remain in her Father in Law's house, till Ricaredo should return, who craved a years time.  
This being thus concluded and 'greed upon, Clotaldo told Ricaredo, how that he was resolved to send Isabel and her Parents to Spain, if the Queen would give him leave so to do. For (said he) peradventure the air of her own Country will hasten and facilitate her health, which she now began to recover. Ricaredo, that he might not give any the least inkling of his designs, answered (though but coldly) his Father, that he should do that which seemed best in his own eyes; only he besought him, that he would not take aught of those riches from Isabel, which the Queen had bestowed on her. Clotaldo promised he would not; and that very day he went to crave licence of the Queen, as well for the marrying of his Son to Clisterna, as for the sending of Isabel with her father and mother into Spain.  
The Queen was well contented with both his requests, and approved Clotaldo's determination. And that very day, without calling her Bedchamber woman in question▪ She dismissed her of her service, and condemned her (besides the loss of her place) in ten thousand Crowns to Isabel. And the Earl Arnesto, for his challenging of Ricaredo, She banished him for six years. Four days were scarce spent and gone; but that Arnesto was upon the point to go to comply with his banishment, having already taken order for the returning of his money.  
The Queen commanded a rich Merchant to come unto her that dwelled in Mundolin, who had very good correspondency in France, Italy, and Spain; to whom She delivered ten thousand Crowns, and required of him bills of exchange, for the returning of them to Isabella's Father in Sevilla, or in any other part of Spain. The Merchant discounting his interest and profit, told the Queen that he would make certain and sure payment of them in Sevilla, by bills of exchange upon another French Merchant, his correspondent, in this manner and form, viz That he would write to Paris, to the end, that the bills might be made there by another correspondent of his, because they would accept and allow of those that came from France, but not from this Island; by reason of the prohibition of commerce betwixt those two kingdoms▪ 〈◊〉 that a letter of advice from him should serve the turn, by 〈◊〉 mark that passed between them two; and that without any more ado the Merchant of Sevilla should give him the moneys, who should be advised thereof ●…om Paris.  
In fine, the Queen took such good security of the Merchant, that she made no doubt of the true payment of it. And not contenting herself with this, She sent for the Master of a Flemish ship that lay in the River, and was to put forth the day following for France, only to take testimony thereof in some Port, that he might be the better able to pass into Spain, under the title of coming from France, and not from the Island; whom she earnestly entreated to carry with him in his ship Isabel, and her Parents, and that he should use them well and kindly, and land them in Spain at the very first place he should come at on that Coast.  
The Master who desired to give the Queen contentment, told her that he would do it, and that he would land them either in Lisbon, Cadiz, or Sevilla. Having taken sufficient security of the Merchant, and assurance from the Master; the Queen by way of message, sent unto Clotaldo, that he should not take any thing of that away from Isabel which She had given her, as well in jewels as in clothes.  
The next day came Isabel, with her Father and Mother to take their leave of the Queen, who received them with a great deal of love. The Queen gave them the Merchant's letter, and many other gifts, as well in money, as other curious dainties for their voyage. And Isabel with such courtship thanked her Majesty, that she left the Queen a new obliged unto her, for to continue her favours still towards her. She took her leave likewise of the Ladies; who now that she was grown disfigured, would not that she should have left them, seeing themselves free from that envy which they bore unto her beauty, and would have been very well content to enjoy her gifts of wit, and discretion. The Queen embraced all three of them, and recommending them to their good fortune, and to the Master of the Ship; and desiring Isabel to advertise Her, of her safe arrival in Spain, and from time to time, of her welfare, by the way of the French Merchant; She took her leave of Isabel, and her Parents; who that very evening Embarked themselves, not without the tears of Clotaldo, and his Wife, and of all those of the House, of whom she was extremely beloved.  
At this their taking of their leaves, Ricaredo was not present, who that he might not make show of his tender heartedness, and manifest his sorrow; procured some of his friends to go abroad that day a hunting with him. The Regalos which the Lady Catalina gave Isabel for her voyage were many, her embrace infinite, her tears in abundance; her entreat that she would write often unto her, without number. And the thanks rendered by Isabel and her Parents, were answerable thereunto; so that though weeping, they left each other well satisfied.  
That night the ship hoist sail, and having with a prosperous gale of wind touched upon the coast of France; and there taking in such provisions as were necessary for their voyage into Spain; within 30. days after they entered the bar of Cadiz, where Isabel and her Parent's disimbarqued themselves. And being known by all those of the City, they received them with expressions of much content. They received a thousand parabienes of the finding out of Isabel, and of the liberty which they had gotten, being first captivated by the Moors, and afterwards by the Northern Islanders. Having been made acquainted with all the passages of that business, by those Captives whom the liberality of Ricaredo had set free.  
Now Isabel in the mean while began to give great hopes of returning to recover her former beauty. They remained but a little more than a month in Cadiz▪ refreshing themselves of their weariness in their voyage; and then they went to Sevilla, for to see whether the payment would prove good of the ten thousand Crowns▪ which were to be put to the account of the French Merchant, who had undertaken for to see it disbursed. Two days after their arrival at Sevilla, they enquired after him, and found him, and gave him the French Merchants letter, he did acknowledge the bill; but told them, that until he had received letters from Paris, and a letter of advice, he could not let them have the money, but yet that he looked every moment to be advertised thereof.  
Isabella's Parents had hired a very fair house, right over against Santa Paula; by reason that there was a Nun in that Monastery, a near kinswoman of theirs, who had the only rare and sweetest voice in all Spain; as well that they might be near unto her, as also for that Isabel had told Ricaredo, that if he should come to seek her, he should find her in Sevilla; and that her Cousin the Nun of Santa Paula would direct him to her house. And that for to know where to find her, he needed not to give himself any further trouble, then to inquire after that Nun which had the best voice in the Monastery, because this token could not easily be forgotten.  
It was forty days, before letters of advice came from Paris, and within two days after they were come, the French Merchant delivered the ten thousand Crowns to Isabel, and she them to her Parents; and with them, and some other which they had got together, by selling some of those many of Isabella's jewels; Her Father began again to follow his trade of Merchandise, not without the admiration of those who knew his great losses.  
In conclusion, within a few months, he went repairing his lost credit, and Isabella's beauty returned to its former perfection. Insomuch, that when any speech was had of fair Women, all of them gave the Laurel to the North Isle Spaniard, who was as well known by this name, as she was for her beauty throughout the whole City.  
By the order of the French Merchant of Sevilla, Isabel, and her Parents writ letters to the Queen of the North Isle, of their safe arrival in Spain; with such acknowledgements, and submissions at her Majesty's feet, as the many favours from her received, did require. They likewise writ to Clotaldo, and to his Lady Catalina, Isabel styling them her Father and Mother, and her father and mother them their lords. From the Queen they received no answer, but from Clotaldo and his Wife, they did; whom in their letters gave them the parabien of their safe arrival. Certifying them besides, how that their Son Ricaredo the next day after that they had hoist sail, was gone for France, and from thence to pass to some other parts of Christendom, whether it was fitting for him to go, for these ttling and securing of his conscience. Adding to these, other discourses and compliments of much love, and affection, besides many other fair and friendly offers. To which letters of theirs, they made answer with another, no less couteous and loving, then thankful.  
Isabel presently imagined, that Ricaredo's leaving his Country, was to come to seek her out in Spain, and feeding herself with this hope, she began to lead the most contented life in the world, and studied to live in such sort, that when Ricaredo should come to Sevilla, he might sooner hear the good report that went of her virtues, then come to the knowledge of her house. Seldom or never did she go out of doors, unless it were to the Monastery; she reaped no benefit by any other jubilees, save those which she gained by the Monastery. From her house, and from her oratory, she went more with her meditations, than her feet. She never visited the River, nor walked to the Triana; she never went to see the common pastimes in the field de Tablada▪ nor to see the parts of Xeres; nor to go if it were a fair day, to the feast of Saint Sebastia, celebrated by so many people, as can hardly be reduced to any number. But spent all her whole time in retiredness, in prayers, and good desires, still looking for the coming of her Ricaredo.  
This her great retiredness, did set on fire and inflame the desires, not only of those young gallants of that street where she dwelled, but of all those that had but once had a sight of her. Hence grew night-musicke at her window, and day careers with their ●…ennets. And from this her not suffering herself to be seen, and from others much desiring to see her, increased their seeking out of cunning Bawds which were Mistresses in their Art, and promised to show themselves no less in soliciting Isabel. And there were not some wanting, who endeavoured to bring this their wicked purpose to pass by witchcraft, charms, sorcery, and the like lewd courses. But against all these, Isabella was like a rock in the midst of the Sea, against which the waves and the winds dash and beat, but do not move it.  
A year and a half was now past, when the approaching hope of those two years promised by Ricaredo, began with more earnestness than hitherto it had done, to vex and grieve the heart of Isabel. And whiles she was now and then thinking with herself that her Husband was come, and that she had him before her eyes, and asked him what was the cause that hindered his coming, and had kept him so long from her. And while again she imagined the just excuses that Ricaredo made her for his long absence, and how willingly she did believe, and receive them, and how lovingly she embraced him in her arms, and hugged him in her bosom, as being the half part of her own soul. Then, even then when she was thinking on these Love fancies, a letter came to her hands from the Lady Catalina, bearing date from Mundolin some 50. days since. It was written in the tongue of the Island, but she reading it in Spanish, saw that it spoke thus.  
Daughter of my foul, thou knowest very well Guillarte 〈◊〉 Page, he went along with him in this his journey. And by a Former of mine unto you, I advertised you, that Ricaredo made for France the second day after your departu●…▪ and from thence was to travel farther. Now this his servant Guillarte at the end of sixteen months; in all which time, we had no news of our Son, came home to us yesterday, and brought us these sad tidings, that the Earl Arnesto had by treachery killed Ricaredo in France. Now then (Daughter) consider in what case his Father, myself, and his Spouse are in with this heavy news; being such, I say, that they have not left us any hope of putting this our misfortune in doubt. That which Clotaldo, and myself entreat of you again, and again, is; that you will truly and earnestly remember Ricaredo, who well deserveth this good office from you, considering how dear he loved you, as you yourself best know. You shall likewise beg of God, that he will give us patience, and bring us to a good death; to whom we likewise will make the same request; and humbly beseech him, that he will give unto you, and your Parents, many long and happy years of life.  
By the letter, hand, and seal, there was not any the least doubt left to Isabel, for not giving credit to the death of her Husband. She knew very well his Page Guillarte, and knew that he was true and trusty, and that in his own nature he hated a lie, and that he had no reason in the World for to feign that his death; and as little, his Mother Lady Catalina; being that it imported nothing to send her such sorrowful news. In conclusion, no discourse that she could make with herself, nothing that she could imagine, could put it ou●… of her thought, that this unfortunate news was not true.  
Having ended the reading of her letter without s●…ng a ●…are, and without showing any signs of ●…ow▪ with a composed coun●…nance, and with (to appearance) a quieted and contented mind, 〈◊〉 a●…se 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 where she 〈◊〉▪ and kneeling down 〈◊〉▪ she ma●… a solemn v●…w to live a single li●…e, 〈◊〉 that 〈◊〉 ●…ght lawfully do it being now a widow.  
Her Parents dissembled t●…ir grief, and covered that sorrow, with the cloak of discretion, which this sad ●…ewes had caused in them, that they might be the better able to comfort Isabel in this bitterness of her soul. Who being now as it were fully satisfied of her sorrow▪ moderating it with the resolution which she had put on, she fell to comforting of her Parents, to whom she discovered her intent. But they did advise her, that she should not put it in execution, until that those two years were overpast which Ricaredo had set down for the term of his coming; for thereupon much depended the confirming of the ●…uth of Ricanedo's death, and she might then with the more safety and security, change this her estate.  
Isabel followed their counsel, and the six months and a half which remained for the accomplishing of the two years, she spent them in the exercises of a religious damosel; and for the better preparing and ●…itting of herself for her entering into the Monastery; having made choice of that of Santa Paula, where her Cousin was.  
The term of the two years was expired, and the day was come wherein she was to take upon her the habit; the news whereof was spread throughout the whole City, amongst those who knew her by fight, and by those that knew her only by repor●… Now the Monastery stood not far off from 〈◊〉 house▪ and her farther ●…viting 〈◊〉 friends▪ and they others▪ 〈◊〉 had one of the noblest and most honourable train●…s to accompany her thither, as in the like occasions was ever seen in Sevilla.  
There accompanied her the Assistante, the Dean of the Church, and the Vicar-general of the Archbishop, and all the Ladies and gentlemen of title and quality that were in the City; so great was the desire that all of them had, to see that sun of Isabella's beauty, which had so many months been eclipsed. And because it is the custom and fashion of those Damosels which go to take the habit, to be as gallant and as bravely adorned as possibly they can devise; who as one, that ever after from that instant sets up her rest, and takes her leave and farewell of all bravery, and wholly discards it. Isabel was willing (that she might not break so ancient a custom) to trick and set forth herself in the best and most curious manner that possibly she could invent. And therefore she did put on that gowene and kirtle, and those rich dress which she had on when she went to Court, which we have heretofore told you, how rich, how sightly, and how magnificent it was. There came forth to public view, those orient Pearls, and that glittering Diamond, with the Carcanet, chain, and girdle, which likewise were of great value.  
Isabel went out of her house on foot, for her being so near unto the Monastery, excused Coaches, and Caroches. The concourse of the people was so great, that it repented them that they had not taken Coach, for they would not give them way to get to the Monastery. Some blessed her Parents, others Heaven that had enriched her with so much beauty; some did stand on tiptoe for to see her, others, having seen her once, ran to get afore, that they might see her again.  
But he that showed himself most solicitous in this kind, and so much, that many took notice of him for it; was a man clad in one of those habits which they wear, who return home redeemed from their Captivity. This Captive then at that very time that Isabel had set one foot within the Porch of the Covent, whether were come forth to receive her (as the use is amongst them) the Prioress, and the Nuns; with a loud voice he cried out, stay Isabel, stay; for whilst that I shall be alive, thou canst not enter into any Religious order. At the hearing of these words, Isabel and her Parents looked back, and saw that cleaving out his way through the thickest of the throng, that Captive came making towards them; whose blue round bonnet being fallen off, which he wore on his head, he discovered a confused and entangled skein of golden wyered hairs, curling themselves into rings, and a face intermixed with crimson, and snow, so pure red and white was his complexion; all of them assured signs and tokens, inducing all of them to take, and hold him to be a stranger.  
In effect, one while falling through too much haste, and then getting him up quickly again, he came at last where Isabel was; and taking her by the hand, said unto her. Knowest thou me Isabel? look well upon me; behold, that I am Ricaredo thy Husband. Yes, I know thee (replied Isabel) if thou art not a phantasma, a walking spirit, or some false assumed apparition, that is come to disturb my repose. Her Parents drew nearer and nearer unto him, and did view and eye him very narrowly; and in conclusion, came certainly to know that this Captive was Ricaredo; who with tears in his eyes, falling down on his knees before Isabel, besought her that the strangeness of that habit wherein she now saw him; might not be a bar to her better knowledge of him; nor that this his mean and base fortune, should be a hindrance to the making good of that word and faithful promise, which they had given and plighted each to other.  
Isabel (maugre the impression which Ricaredo's Mother's letter had made in her memory, sending her the news of his death,) chose rather to give more credit to her eyes, and the truth which she had present before her, then to trouble herself to make a further needless inquiry. And therefore kindly embracing the Captive, she said unto him. You doubtless (sir) are the man who can only hinder my determination; since that you are truly my husband▪ you can be no less than the better half of my soul. I have thee imprinted in my memory, and have laid thee up in my heart. Come therefore (sir) unto my Father's house, which is yours; and there I will deliver up unto you the possession of my person.  
All these words the standers by heard, together with the Assistante, the Dean, and the Archbishops Vicar-general of Sevilla. At the hearing whereof, they were all of them strucken with admiration, and stood a while as men astonished; and were desirous that it might presently be told them, what history this, and what stranger that was, and of what marriage they treated. Whereunto Isabella's father made answer, saying; that that history required another place, and some time for to tell it. And therefore besought them, since that they were so willing to know it; that they would be pleased to return back with him to his house, being that it was so near, and that there it should be recounted unto them, and in such a manner, that with the truth thereof they should remain satisfied, and at the strangeness of that success, amazed.  
This was no sooner said, but that one of those there present, spoke aloud, saying. Gentlemen, this young man is a great Pirate, for I know him well enough; and this is he, who some two years since, and somewhat more; took from the Pirates of Algiers, that ship of Portugal, which came from the Indies. Ye need not doubt that this is the man, for I confidently tell you that I know him; for he gave me my liberty, and money to bring me home to Spain; and did not only free me, but 300. Captives more, furnishing them with victuals, and moneys. With these words the vulgar were in an uproar, and the desire afresh revived, which all of them had to know and see such intricate things as these to be fully cleared.  
In fine, the Gentlemen of more especial rank and quality, with the Assistante, and those two principal Churchmen, returned back to accompany Isabel to her house, leaving the Nuns sorrowful, and weeping, that they had lost so ●…ayre a Sister, and companion as Isabel. Who being come home, and having brought the Gentlemen into a spacious large Hall, entreated them to sit down; and albeit Ricaredo was willing enough to take upon him the relating of this desired history; yet notwithstanding it seemed good unto him, rather to trust Isabella's tongue and discretion with it, than his own, who did not very perfectly speak the language of Spain. All that were present were in a still silence, and having their cares and souls ready prepared to hear what Isabel would say, she began to recount the story; Which I reduce briefly to this; that she delivered all that unto them, which happened from the day that Clotaldo by stealth carried her away from Cadiz till her return thither again. Not omitting the battle which Ricaredo fought with the Turks, and the liberality and bounty which he had used towards the Christians, and the faith which both of them had plighted each to other, to be man and wife. The promise of two years, the news which she had received of his death; and that so certain to her seeming, that it put her into that course which they had so lately seen, of professing herself a Nun. She did endear the Queen of the North Islands bounty towards her, and the Christianity of Ricaredo, and his Parents. And ended her speech, with desiring Ricaredo that he would relate what had befallen him, from the time that he left Mundolin, until this very present; wherein they saw him clad in the habit of a Captive, and with a badge in his breast, betokening that he was redeemed by way of Alms.  
It is true as you say, replied Ricaredo; and in a few short words, I will sum up unto you my many and great troubles. After that I went out of Mundolin for to excuse the marriage which I could not make with Clisterna, with whom Isabel told you my Parents would have me to marry, taking Gu●…arte along with me; that Page, who (as my Mother's letters made mention) brought the news to 〈◊〉 of my death. Crossing France, I came to Rome; where off those two thousand Crowns which I had in gold, I delivered a thousand and six hundred to a Banker, who gave me a bill to receive so much in this City, upon one R●…qui a Florentine. And with those 400 which remained▪ with me, with intention to come for Spain, I made for Genoa; whence I had notice given me, that there were two Galleys of that Signory to go for Spain.  
I came with Guillarte my servant, to a certain Town called Aquapendien●…e▪ And in an Inn where I alighted, I found the Earl Arnesto, my mortal enemy; who with four servants went disguised, and went (as I conceive) to Rome, I did verily believe that he had not known me, I shut myself up in my lodging with my servant, and there kept myself close, and with a great deal of care and vigilancy, and with a determination and purpose, at the shutting in of night to get me gone, and to change that my lodging for a safer. But I did not do it, because the great carelessness which I observed in the Earl, and his followers, did assure me that he did not know me. I supped in my lodging, I made fast the door, stood upon my guard with my sword in my hand; I recommended myself to God, and would not that night go to bed. Myself and my servant lay down on a bench to take a little rest and sleep, and myself was half fallen a sleep.  
But a little after midnight, they awakened me with purpose to make me sleep an eternal sleep. Four pistols (as I afterwards understood) the Earl and his servants discharged against me, leaving me for dead; and having their horses already in a readiness, they presently put ●…oot in stirrup and went away; bidding the Host of the Inn, that he would see me fairly buried, for that I was a man of principal note and quality. My servant (as mine Host afterwards told me) awakened with the noise, out of very fear leapt down from a window▪ that looked out into a base Court, crying out; oh miserable and unfortunate that I am! they have slain my Lord and Master; and having said this, he hied him out of the Inn, and that with such fear, and haste, that he did not so much as look back, or make any stay till he came to Mundolin; so that it was he who brought the news of my death.  
They of the Inn got up, found me shot athwart my body with four bullets, and wounded with many other lesser shot; but all of them lighting on such parts, that there was not one mortal wound amongst them all. They cured me, but it was two months and better, before I was able to travel.  
At the end whereof, I came to Genoa, where I found no other passage, save in two small boats, which myself, and two other principal Spaniards hired; the one to go before as a Vessel of advice for discovery, and the other we went in ourselves. With this security, we embarked ourselves: sailing along the shore▪ with intention not to ingulfe ourselves; but coming over against that place which they call Las Mtres arias, or the three mary's, which is on the Coast of France. Our first boat going forward to see if she could discover any thing; in an unlucky hour, two Turkish Galleys that lay lurking there in a little creek of the Sea under the Rocks; and the one of them putting herself forth to the Sea, and the other keeping close by the land; when they saw our drift that we meant to run a shore, we were prevented in our course, taken by the Turks, and stripped of all that we had even to our naked skins. They rifled the boats of all that they had, and suffered them to run a shore, without offering to sink them, saying; that they would serve another time to bring them another Galima, (for by this name they call those spoils and booties which they take from the Christians.)  
Ye may very well believe me, if I tell you that I felt in my soul the soreness of my captivity; and above all, the loss of those certificates, and provisions I received at Rome, which I brought along with me, leapt up in a little box of plate; as likewise my bill of exchange for a thousand and six hundred Crowns. But as good luck would have it, they lighted into the hands of a Christian Captive a Spaniard, who kept them safe; for if they had once come to the Turks fingering, I should at least have given for my ransom, as my bill made mention of. They brought me to Algiers, where I found the Fathers of the order of the blessed Trinity, treating of the redeeming of Christian Captives; I spoke with them, I told them who I was; and moved out of charity, though I was a stranger unto them, they redeemed me in this form and manner following. They gave for me three hundred Ducats, one hundred to be laid down presently; and the other two, at the next return of the Ship that should come to redeem the Father of that society, who remained in Algiers, engaged in four thousand Ducats more than those that he brought with him; for to such great pity and compassion extended the charity of these men, that they give their own, for other folk's liberty, and remain themselves Captives, for to free others from Captivity. And for an addition of this happiness of my liberty, I found my lost box, with my certificates, and my bill also of Exchange. I showed it to that holy Father who had ransomed me; and I offered him five hundred Ducats more than my ransom came to, towards the payment of his engagement.  
It was almost a year ere the Ship of alms returned; and that which in the interim happened unto me, if I should go about to recount it now unto you, it would be another new History. Only I will tell you that I was known of one of the 20. Turks whom I had set at liberty, with the rest of the Christians before mentioned▪ But he was so thankful, and so honest a man, that he would not discover me. For had the Turks known that I was the man that sunk their two Galleys, and took out of their hands that great ship of In●…ia; they would either have presented me to the great Turk, or have taken away my life. And to have presented me to the great Turk, had been the loss of my liberty during life.  
In conclusion, the father that did ransom me, came to Spain with me, together with other 50. redeemed Captives. In Valencia we made a general procession, and from thence every one went his own way which he liked best, with these ensigns and tokens of their liberty, which are these poor kind of habits. This day I came to this City, with so great and earnest a desire to see my espoused Isabel; that without any other thing detaining me. I enquired for this Monastery, where I was to have notice given me of my Spouse. That which herein hath befallen me, ye have already seen; that which remaineth to be seen, are these certificates in the plate-boxe which I told you of; and with that he put them into the Deans hand, who preserved them together, with the Assistante, who did not find any thing in them, that might make doubt of the truth of that which Ricaredo had delivered unto them. And for further confirmation thereof, Heaven had so ordained it, that the Flore●… Merchant was present at all this, upon whom the bill was for the payment of 1000 ducats; who entreated that they would let him see the bill; and they showing it him, he presently acknowledged, and accepted it, for it was many months since that he had order for it. All this was but to add admiration to admiration, and amazement to amazement.  
The Assistante embraced Ri●…, and 〈◊〉 Pa●…, and herself; all of them in very courteous language offering them their service. The like did the 〈◊〉 Clergy 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that she would set down 〈◊〉 story in writing, that the Archbishop might read it, which she promised she would. The people from the highest to the lowest giving the parabien to Isabel, Ricaredo, and their Parents, they took their leaves. And they on the other side besought the Assistante, that he would honour their wedding with his presence, which some eight days hence they did purpose to celebrate. The Assistante was very well pleased with the motion; and within eight days after, accompanied with all the highest and principal persons of the City, he waited on them to Church.  
By these turnings and windings, and by these circumstances, Isabella's Parents recovered their Daughter, and were restored▪ to their former wealth; and she assisted by her many virtues, in despite of so many inconveniencies, lighted on a husband, of such especial rank and quality as Ricaredo. In whose company (it is said) she still liveth in that house which they rent right over against Santa Paula, which since they bought of the heirs of a gentleman of B●…rgos, called Hernando de Cifuentes.  
This Novel may teach us, what great power virtue, and beauty have, since that both of them together, and each of them by themselves are of force, to make even their enemies in love with them. As likewise how that heaven knows from the greatest adversities and afflictions, to draw the greatest benefits, and comforts.  
The end of the fifth Book.   

THE JEALOUS HUSBAND.  
THE sixth BOOK.  
IT is not many years since, that out of a certain Town in Estremadura, issued a Gentleman borne of noble Parents; who like another Prodigal, through divers parts of Spain, Italy, and Flanders, went spending and wasting as well his years, as his wealth. And in the end, after his many perigrinations, and travels, (his Parents being already dead, and his patrimony consumed;) he came at last to reside in the great City Sevilla, where he found sufficient occasion to waste and consume that little of his substance which he had left.  
Now seeing himself in some want of moneys, and not having many friends, he had recourse unto that remedy whereunto many other decayed persons, and such as are broken in their estates commonly have recourse. To wit, to go for the Indies, the refuge and protection▪ of all your 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 people of Spain, the sanctuary of Banker-rupts, the safe conduct of murderers, the cloak and cover for your cunning gamesters, to whom some give the name of cheaters; the common lure whereunto your loser women stoop, the general deceiving of many, and the particular relieving of few.  
In conclusion, coming thither in that time, and just as it were in the very nick when as the Fleet was putting forth to sea, to make for the West-Indies, or Tierra-F●…me (as the Spaniards call it) having agreed with the Admiral thereof, (upon what terms and conditions I know not) he furnished himself with all such necessary sea-provisions as were fitting for so long a voyage; and having sent them aboard, embarked himself at Cadiz, bidding Spain farewell. They weighed anchor, and with a general joy (having as fair a wind as heart could wish) they hoist sail, and it was not long before they had lost the sight of land, and found themselves prosperously ploughing the waves in those spacious plains of that Grandfather of waters, the vast Ocean.  
This our thoughtful passenger revolving in his mind, and calling to his remembrance the many and divers dangers which in those former years of his travels he had passed, and the ill courses which he had taken throughout the whole course of his life, and what an ill governed young man he had been; having fallen into this account with himself; and seeing what a bad reckoning he was like to make of it, did put on a firm and constant resolution to change his former course of life, to turn over a new leaf, and to alter his wont style in spending, and to look a little better than heretofore he had done, to that wealth and means which God should be pleased to bestow upon him, and to proceed with a little more wariness and circumspection then hitherto he had in those his loose and expenseful entertainments of women.  
The Fleet was in a manner becalmed, when Feli pede Carrizales (for that is his name who ministers occasion of matter to this our story) had this storm and tempest within himself. Well, the wind returned to take new breath, putting the ships forward with such force and violence, that they left no man surely fettled in his place. And therefore Carrizales was enforced to leave his imaginations, and to suffer himself to be carried away with those cares only, which this his voyage offered unto him; which was so successful, that without receiving any bylets, or hindrances, they happily arrived at the Port of Cartagena.  
And for to let pass all that which maketh not for our present purpose; I say that when Felipe went for the Indies, he was 48▪ years' old. And in those ●…0. ensuing years whilst he remained there; by his industry and diligence, he grew to be worth a hundred and fifty thousand Ducats.  
Now then, seeing himself in so rich and plentiful an estate▪ touched with that natural desire which all men have to return home to their own native Country, not regarding the great proffers, both for his private profit, and his public preferment which were offered him. Leaving Per●…, where he had gotten such great store of wealth bringing it along with him, all in bars of gold and silver▪ and seeing it registered, for to quit all inconveniencies, he returned for Spain, landed at S. Lucre's, and came unto▪ 〈◊〉 villa, as well laden with years, as wealth. What he brought thence appropriated to himself, at the unlading of the Galleons he had quiet possession given him, without any the least disturbance or interruption of officers. He inquired after his friends, and found them all dead; he had a great mind to go to his own Country, though he had already received news that death had not left him any one kinsman alive.  
And if when he went for the Indies poor and necessitated, many thoughts troubled his brains, not suffering him to be at quiet one minute of an hour in the midst of the waves of the Sea, no less did they now vex him being on land, though the cause were different; for than he could not sleep for thinking on his poverty, he could not now take any rest for thinking on his wealth. So heavy a load is riches to him that hath not been acquainted therewith, nor knows not how to use them, as poverty is to him who lives in continual want. Gold brings cares with it, and cares oppress him who wants it; but the one are remedied by having some moderate quantity thereof; and the other augmented, by having too much of it.  
Carrizales his mind did run often upon his wedges of gold, and did as often eye them, but not that he was miserable▪ because in those few years wherein he had been a Soldier and followed the wars, he had learned to be free, and liberal; but what he should do with them, because for to keep them still in their being, would be altogether unprofitable; and to keep them at home in his house, would be but a bait for the covetous, and attempting prey for thief's.  
The desire of returning to the troublesome and unquiet trade of merchandise for the gaining of more wealth, was wholly dead in him; and considered with himself, that being of those years that he was, he had money more then enough to maintain him well and plentifully, during the remainder of those days that he had to live▪  
Otherwhiles, he was minded to carry it with him into his own Country, and to put it out to profit, spending therein the years of his old age in rest and quietness, giving unto God that which he could, since that he had given to the World more than he should.  
On the other side, he bethought himself of the scarcity and poverty of his own Country, and that the people round about him were very poor and needy; and that for to go to live there, was but no make himself the●… But●…, and mark of all those importunities which the poor do commonly give the rich, who is near neighbour unto them; and more especially, when there is no other in that place, to whom they may repair for the relieving of their miseries.  
Again, he would feign have one, to whom he might leave his wealth after his own days were ended▪ This desire running often in his head, and having now taken fast hold on him; he consulted with his own strength, finding himself (to his seeming) able enough to undergo and bear that heavy yeake of●… wedlock. But he had no sooner entertained this thought of Matrimony, but instantly such a great fear came upon him; that as a Cloud is scattered and driven away by the wind, so vanished this his thought. For in his own natural disposition, he was the most jealous man in the world, though being as yet unmarried; and now with only the bare imagination of being a married man, jealousies began to offend him, suspicions to trouble him, and strange fancies to vex and torment him; and with such great efficacy and vehemency, that he was now quite off the hinges▪ and fully resolved with himself never to Marry▪  
And having put on this resolution, but not being resolved what course to run, or what manner of life to lead; his fortune had so ordained it, that passing one day along the street, he should cast up his eyes, and see a damosel standing in a window; being to his seeming about thirteen or fourteen years of age, being of so pleasing a countenance, and so fair and beautiful, that good old Carrizales being not able to defend himself any longer; yielded up the weakness of his many years to those few of Leonora, (for this was the name of that beautiful damosel) And presently without any further detention, he began to heap discourse upon discourse, and talking with himself, said.  
This young maiden is very fair, exceeding handsome, and very well favoured▪ and by the outward show which this house makes, I conceive they are none of the richest that dwell therein; she is young, her tender years may secure my suspicions; I will marry her, shut her up close, and mould her to my mind; by which means she shall not come to have any other condion, save that which I myself shall ●…each her. I am not so old, that I should lose the hope of having Children to inherit my estate; whether she bring a dowry with her or no, it mattereth not, neither make I any reckoning of it, since that Heaven hath dealt so liberally with me, that I have (if enough be enough) enough and to spare. And such as are rich, ought not in their marriages to seek after wealth, but their own liking and content, for this lengtheneth man's life; whereas the contrary is the bane of wedlock, and shortens the days of those that are so coupled together. No more I say, the Die is cast, and this is the chance which Heaven hath given me.  
And having this soliloquy with himself, not once, but a hundred times over and over. After some few days were overpast, he had speech with the Parents of Leonora, and came to know that though they were poor, yet were they of a noble Family; and giving them an account of his intention, and of the quality of his person, and means; he entreated them to give him their Daughter to wife. They required time of him for to inform themselves of that he had delivered unto them; and that he likewise should do the like, for the better assuring himself of the truth of their nobleness.  
So for the present they parted; and the parties having well informed themselves each of other, they both found what they had said to be true. And so in conclusion, Leonora came to be the Spouse of Carrizales; having first endowed her with twenty thousand Ducats, so hotly was the heart of this jealous old man, set on fire with the love of L●…a. Who had scarce given his hand to be her Husband, but that on the sudden a troop of ●…aging jealousies set upon him, and began without 〈◊〉 cause given him, to shake and tremble▪ and to be afflicted with more and greater ca●…es, then ever he ●…ad been 〈◊〉 bled with heretofore.  
And the first manifestation which he made of his jealous condition, was; that he would not suffer a Taylo●… to 〈◊〉 measure of those many changes of garments which he was minded to make for this his young wife. And therefore went eyeing, if he could mee●… with any other woman that was little more or less of the same size and stature; answerable to that of Leonora; at last he lighted on a poor Maid, near about her pitch; causing a Tailor that was a very good workman, to take measure of her, and to make one whole suit fitting to her body; that done, bringing it to his wife, he wished her to put it on; she did so▪ In fine, he found that it did fit her to a hair; and thereupon, according to that measure, he caused the rest of her clothes to be made; which were so rich, and so many, that the Parents of the espoused, held themselves exceeding happy, in having lighted upon so good a Son in Law, both for their own, and their Daughters better good and maintenance.  
The young married wife was much amazed, wondering to see such a deal of gallantry; because in all her life before, her best wear was a gown of Rash, and a Taffata-Kirtle.  
The second token of his jealousy was, that he would not bed his wife, till he had brought her home to his own house, which he had ordered in this form and manner. He bought one, which cost him Twelve thousand Ducats, being seated in a most principal place of the City, with a curious Garden belonging unto it; in the midst whereof was a fountain, beautified round about with Grapes, Oranges, and Lemons; diversified with sundry sorts of flowers, and fruits p●…g to the eye, and pleasant to the taste. He d●…mmed up all the windows that looked out towards the street, and had no other light, but what the rooms received over head from Heaven. The like course he took with all the rest in his house. In the Po●…all of the street (which in Sevill they call Casa-puerta) he made a stable for one Mule, and over it he built a little Tallet, or Hayloft, with a lodging chamber joining close to it, where he was to lie and make his abode, who had the charge thereof, being an old Negro, and an ●…unuch. He raised up his walls to a great height, leaving the roof open; so that he whosoever he were that entered into the house, must behold Heaven by a direct line, without being able to see aught else. He made a Tornill (such as your Nuns have in their Monasteries) which from the Casa-puerta, or open Portall, did butt upon the inner Court▪ He had bought very rich householdstuff wherewithal to adorn his house; so that for hangings, Carpets, Canopies, Chairs, Stools and all other utensils, all was Lord like, costly, and substantial.  
He bought likewise four white female slaves, and burned them with a hot iron in their cheeks and forehead, setting his mark upon them; and other two Blacke-Moore she slaves, who knew no other language but their own, save a little broken Spanish. He covenanted with a certain Caterer to buy and bring him in his household provision so his diet; but with this condition, that he should not lodge in the house, nor enter thereinto no further than the Tornill, where he was to deliver in what he brought.  
This being done, he put out part of his moneys to use, in good and sure hands; and part of it in bank, reserving a good round sum to lie still ready by him upon all occasions that should offer themselves unto him. He also caused one master-key to be made for all the whole house, and did lock up under that, all that whatsoever he did buy in gross and in their due seasons, for the provision of the whole year.  
And having thus ordered and disposed all things according to his own mind, he went to his Father in la●…s house and demanded his wife. Her Parents delivered her up unto him; not with a few tears, because it seemed unto them that they carried her to her grave. Tender h●…ted Leonora, both in heart, and years knew not as yet what had happened unto her; and so weeping for company with her Parents, she craved their blessing; and taking her leave of them, attended by her slaves and servants, her Husband lending her his arm, led her home to his house.  
Whereinto he was no sooner entered, but Carrizales made a speech unto all his servants; recommending the guard of Leonora to their charge, willing them that in no hand they should admit any one to enter within the second door, no not the Negro, though an ●…unuch. And she to whom more especially he recommended the keeping and cherishing of Leonora, was a Beldame of much prudence, and gravity; whom he had entertained to be as it were a governess to Leonora, and a superintendent, or overseer of all whatsoever was to be done in the▪ house, and to have command over the slaves, and other two Damosels of Leonora's age; to the end that she might entertain herself with those of her own years, whom he had made choice of for that purpose.  
He promised that he would treat and use them well, and that he would regular them all in such sort, giving them such good content, that they should not risent this their retiredness. And that on festival days, they should without fail go to hear Mass; but that was so early in the morning, that the light could scarce come to see them.  
His servants and slaves promised him that they would do whatsoever he should be pleased to command them, without any the least repining, with a very prompt and willing mind. And the new married wife shrinking up her shoulders, and bowing down her head, said; that she had no other will save that of her Husband, and Lord, whereunto she would ever be obedient.  
This prevention being made, and good Carr●…zales n●…w fully se●…led in his own house; he began to enjoy as well (poor man) as he could, the 〈◊〉 o●… 〈◊〉 a●…rimonie.  
Thus did she pass away the time with her Governess, Damosels, and Slaves; and they, that they might pass it over the bet●…es, 〈◊〉 themselves with good cheer; and few days passed over their heads, wherein they did not make a thousand Q●…hoses, whereunto their honey, and their Sugar which they had in most plentiful manner▪ gave a very da●…tie and delicate relish.  
There was no lack of any thing that was needful, they had enough, and more then enough, and their master was willing that it should be ●…o; opinionating with himself, that by this his liberal and large allowance, he should keep them entertained and occupied without having cause given them, whereby to call to 〈◊〉, or so much as once think of this their close imprisonment.  
Leonora, look what her servants did, the same did she; she had no other company, and was therefore forced to entertain the time with such entertainments as they thought fittest. Nay such was her simplicity, that she fell to making of babies, and other the like childish things, which showed the plainness and harmlessness of her disposition, and the tenderness of her years. All which gave exceeding great satisfaction to her jealous husband; it seeming unto him, that he had hit right in choosing the best kind of life that he could possibly devise, or imagine; and that by no manner of means, either humane industry, or malice, could disturb his quiet; and therefore did only study and beat his brains, to bring home rari●…ies, and dainties to please and content his wife, entreating her that whatsoever she had a mind to, she would acquaint him with it, and she should have it whatsoever it cost him, holding nothing she desired to dear for her.  
Those days wherein she went to Mass, (which was as hath been said, between the two lights) her Parents came, and there in the Church talked with their Daughter, but still before her husband, that he might be an ●…are-witnesse of what they said; who gave them so many gifts, that although they did much pity their Daughter, and inwardly grieve at that restraint wherein she lived; yet did they dissemble this their distaste, and bore their sorrow the more patiently, by reason of those many great gifts and favours which their liberal Son in Law Carrizales continually conferred on them.  
He used to rise betimes in the morning, staying within till the Dispensero came, whom over night by a scroll or bill which he left in the Tornell, advised him what he should bring the next day. And as soon as the Dispensero was come, and and dismissed; Carrizales instantly got him out of doors, and for the most part a foot, leaving those two doors towards the street shut, and that in the middle, and between both remained the Negro.  
He went abroad about his businesses, which being few, were soon dispatched, so that he quickly returned home again; and shutting up himself, he retained himself in regalaring and making much of his wife, and in cheering up his servants, who loved him very well, and wished him all happiness; because his carriage was plain, and pleasing; as also, for that towards all of them he was so liberal and bountiful. Thus had they now passed one whole year of their Noviciation, or Probationorshippe, and now made profession of that kind of life; having resolved with themselves to continue therein till the end of his; and peradventure would have made good this their determination, if that subtle and cunning perturber of humane peace had not hindered it, as by and by you shall hear.  
Tell me now, he who takes himself to be the discreetest and wariest amongst men, what better or surer preventions could old Carrizales have used for to make all safe and secure, since that by no means he would not permit that within his house there should be any one creature that was a Male? no, not so much as a Cat to persecute the Mice, nor a little dog to lie in his wife's lap to sport and play withal, all these were of the feminine gender, none of the masculine; save only himself. In the day he mused much, in the night he slept little; he was the watch and centinel of his house, and the Argos, who had still a vigilant eye over her whom he so dear loved. Never did any man come within his doors, no not so much as into the outward Court. With his friends and acquaintance he did negociate and treat in the open street.  
The figures in those his hangings which did adorn his Hall, and other his with drawing rooms, and chambers, were all Females, Flowers, Trees, and the like Boscageworke. All his whole house did smell of honesty, retiredness, and reservedness; yea, even in those ●…ales which in the long and tedious nights of winter his servants told by the fire side, to pass away the time; for that he was present, not in any one of them was uttered any the least kind of lafcivious or wanton word.  
The silver of the old man's hoary hairs, to the eyes of Leonora seemed to be of pure gold; because the first love which Virgins enjoy, leaves an impression in their soul, as a seal doth in wax. His strict guard upon her, seemed to her to be advised circumspection; for she did think and believe, that what passed with her, the like passed with all those that were newly married. Her thoughts never went a gadding beyond the walls of her own house; nor did her will desire any one thing, save what was her husband's pleasure. Only those days which she went to Mass, she saw the streets; and this too was so ●…arely, that unless it were in her return homeward from Church, there was not light enough to behold them. Never was there seen any Monastery so close kept, never any Nu●…s more retired, nor those golden Apples of old so narrowly watched; and yet notwithstanding all this, he could in no ●…ise prevent nor avoid the falling into that which he so much feared, at least in thinking it to be so.  
There is a certain kind of idle people in Sevill, handsome proper young men, well both borne, a dclad, who in a bravery and gallantry, take great pride and glory in cou●…ing women; seeking by all possible means to win those beauties to their will, whereunto they stand affected. This they make their study, and therein employ the utmost of their wits.  
Now one of these gallants (a single man) had taken notice of this house of wary Carrizales, and finding it always shut; he had a great itching desire to know who lived there within: and using his best diligence, but with a great deal of caution, and cunning, he came to a full knowledge of that which he desired; informing himself of all the particular passages point by point. All which did but kindle a greater and more inflamed desire in him, to see if it were possible to win by force, or industry; a fort so well and strongly guard●….  
And acquainting two or three other of his friends of the s●…me feather with the business, and of his purpose; they did encourage and hearten him on, for to put it in execution▪ for in such kind of actions, counsellors, and helpers are ●…ildome wanting. The main difficulty which offered itself u●…to them, was the manner that was to he held▪ for the a●…pting and undertaking of so hard and dangerous a 〈◊〉 of service. And having entered often into consulration, and sat in counsel what cours●… we●…●…st to be ●…aken, with a joint consent, they agreed as ●…st on ●…his.  
That I 〈◊〉 (●…or so was this young gallant called) ●…ning to go out of Town for some certain time should remove himself from the sight of his friends and acquai●… 〈◊〉, and so he 〈◊〉 ●…his being done 〈◊〉 pu●… 〈◊〉 on a pair of drawers next to his body of very 〈◊〉 white linen, and a clean shirt of curious 〈◊〉 Holland; but on the top of them, he had such ragged and tattered clothes, so patched, and so peeced, that the poorest beggar in the City, had none so 〈◊〉 He had cut away a pretty part of his beard, clap●… over one of his eyes a black patch, bound up one of his legs very strait with swaths one upon another; and resting his body on two crutches, he personated a poor lame cripple; and acted that part so well, that none that were truly so taken in their limbs, could come near him.  
In this disguise and posture, night by night he prayed at Carrizales his door, which he found still shut. The Negro (whose name was Lewis) remaining mewed up between the two doors; there Loaysa leaning his back against it, took out a little Ghitterne out of a greasy ●…ase, the instrument being none of the cleanest, wanting besides some strings; and for that he had some smatch of music, he began to play some merry and lively tunes, and to sing thereto certain pretty songs, and choicest ditties that he could, changing the tone of his voice that he might not be known.  
Things being thus ordered, he fell anon after to sing some pleasant witty Ballads of Moors, and Mo●…sh Women; and that with such an odd●… kind of grace, and gesture, and varying of the 〈◊〉, that as many as passed along that street, made a stand to he●… him; and all the while he continued singing, your boys and gi●…les, and younger sort of people flocked about him, hemming him in on every side. And 〈◊〉 ●…he Negro, laying his ea●… as close as he●… could 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 two doors; was so mightily taken with this m●…sicke, that he would have opened th●… door wi●…h a 〈◊〉 good will, and did endeavour it (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) that he might to his greater contentment more fully hear it; such, and so great is the inclination which your Negroes naturally have unto music. And when Loaysa was willing that they who heard him, should leave him; he left off his playing and singing, put up his Ghitterne, and betaking him to his crutches, went his way.  
Four or five times he had given music to the Negro, and only for his sake did he give it; it seeming unto him, that the place where he was to begin to make a breach in in this building, must be by the Negro, nor did his thought therein deceive him; for coming one night as he was wont to the door, he began to fall a tuning of his Ghitterne, and perceived that the Negro was already very attentive; and drawing near to the hinge of the door, in a low voice he called unto him, saying; I prithee (good Lewis) if it be possible give me a little water, for I am ready to perish for thirst; and am so dry, that I am not able to sing one note.  
No, I cannot (replied the Negro) though my life lay upon it; for I neither have the key to this door, nor is there any the least hole or cranny whereby to give it thee.  
Who then (said Loaysa) hath the key? My master (answered the Negro,) who is the most jealous man in the World. And if he should but know that there were any body now speaking here with me, it were as much as my life were worth, he would not let me live one hour longer. But who are you that beg this water of me?  
I (replied Loaysa) am a poor cripple, lame on one of my legs, which is so benumbed, that I have no sense or use of it, getting my living by begging for God's sake, an alms of good and well-disposed people. And besides (which is no small comfort and help for my better maintenance) I teach some Moors, and other poor people to play on the Ghitterne, and now at this present I have three slaves, all Negroes, some young, some elder; whom I have taught in such sort, that in any Tavern or other drinking school wheresoever they come, they can sing to any tune and play any dance they call for, who have paid me very well for my pains.  
I would pay you much better (said Lewis) had I but the opportunity to learn; but that is not possible, because my Master when he goes forth in the morning, shuts the door to the street; and when he returns he does the like, leaving me immured between two doors.  
I swear unto thee Lewis (replied Loaysa) for he kn●…w before hand the name of the Negro, if thou couldst but think upon, or devise any means how I might get in, in the night time, to teach thee to take out some lessons, I would in a fortnight make thee play so well on the Ghitterne, that thou shouldst not be ashamed to play at the corner of any street whatsoever in Sevill; for I would have thee to know, that I have an excellent gift in teaching. And moreover, (which will be a good help) I have heard that thou art very apt to learn, and of a nimble and quick apprehension; and by that which I perceive already, if I have any judgement in me, that organ of thy voice tells me, that it is a treble, and shouldest therefore sing wondrous clear and well.  
I have none of the worst voices I tell you, (answered the Negro) but what good does that do me, since that I know no other tune, save that of Estrella de Venus, and that of Por un verd●… prado, and that which is now most in use; A los hierros de una reia la turbada mano a●…ida.  
All these are toys (quoth Loaysa) and not worth a pin, in comparison of those that I can and will teach thee. For I know all those of the Moor Abiudarraez with those of his Lady Xarifa, and all those which are sung touching the story of the Grand So●…i Tomuni●…eyo, together with those of the Zarabanda, so highly esteemed; which are such ●…avishing tunes, that the Port●…eses themselves are rapt therewith, and are for the time as it were in a t●…ance. And these I teach with such dexterity, and facility, that though t●…ou shouldst be somewhat hard in apprehending them, and not beat thy brains much about them, thou shalt scarce have eaten three or four bushels of salt; but thou shalt see thyself so improved, that thou shalt pass currant for one of the best players on the Ghitterne, of all the Negroes in this Country. Hearing him say so, the Negro sighed, and said; what booteth all this, since I know not how I shall get thee into the house?  
We may (said Loaysa) find a good remmedy against that rub. Do you but work the means to get your Master's keys, and I will give you a piece of soft wax, wherein you shall take the print of them in such manner, that the wards may remain imprinted in the wax. And then out of the great affection which I have taken to thee, I will procure a cunning Lock▪ smith, a friend of mine, to make the keys accordingly; and so in the night I may come in unto thee, and teach thee to play better than Prester johu of the Indies; for it is a thousand pities, that such a voice as thine should be lost, for want of being holpen by the Ghitterne. For I must tell thee (brother Lewis) that the best voice in the World loseth of its quilates, when it is not accompanied with some instruments, be it either Ghitterne, Lute, Harpe, Organ, or the like. But that which will fit best with your voice, is that of the Ghitterne, for that it is the more handy, and less costly of all other instruments.  
I am of your mind for that (replied the Negro,) but that which you propound can not be done, because the keys never come to my hands, nor doth my Master let them go out of his, day nor night, they sleep with him underneath his pillow.  
Then do this other thing Lewis, (said Loaysa) if thou hast a mind to be a perfect and complete musician; if not▪ I have done, and will not trouble myself any further in advising thee. Have a mind (answered Lewis;) yes marry have I, and so great, that I would leave nothing undone, no st●… unmoved, on that condition it were possible that by your means I might come to be a good Musician. Doubt you not of that, replied Loaysa; I will give you therefore in at this door, you making way for them, by removing some little quantity of stone, or earth near the hinges; I will give thee I say, a pair of pi●…sars; and a hammer, wherewith thou mayst in the dead of the night, pluck out the nails of the lock with a great deal of facility, and with no less easiness, fasten them again to the plate in such sort, that it shall not be perceived that it had been unnayled and taken off. And I being shut up with you in your Hayloft, or there where you lodge, and you shall see very shortly what I can do, and sooner perhaps then I have said, or you can imagine; for the making good of my promise, the increasing of mine own credit, and your improvement. And for to have wherewithal to eat and sustain ourselves; take you no care, for I will bring provision enough with me for both of us, which shall serve us for eight or nine days; for I have scholars and friends (I thank God) who will not see me want any thing.  
As for our diet (replied the Negro) that is the least thing we need to fear; for what with my Master's allowance, and that which my fellow servants give me of that which is left, we shall have victuals enough, and to spare, for two more besides ourselves. Do you bring the hammer and p●…sars you speak off, and let me alone for to make way for the getting of them in, and for the damning up of the place again, that it may not be perceived. And although I shall be driven to strike some blows with the hammer in taking off the plate; yet my Master's bedchamber where he sleeps, is so far off from this door, that it must be either a great miracle, or misfortune, if he hap to hear us.  
Well (said Loaysa) let us put that to the venture, and within these two days (Lewis) thou shalt have all that is necessary for the putting of this thy virtuous purpose in execution. And let me advise you to refrain from such 〈◊〉 as breed fleag●…e; for besides that, in themselves they are not wholesome, they are very hurtful for your voice. No one thing (replied Lewis) makes me so much hoarse as wine, yet will I not be debarred my drinking of it, for all the voices in the world.  
No by no means (said Loaysa,) it was the least of my thought; God forbid that I should forbid you so good a thing. Drink (my son Lewis) drink, and much good may it do thy heart; for wine that is drunk with measure, doth never cause any harm. Nay I drink it with measure I assure you (replied the Negro;) for I have a jar, which being filled to the very brim, holds just three quarts, and no more, nor no less. And this my fellow slaves bring me unwirting to my Master. And the Dispense●…o ever and anon, but very secretly, furnishes me with a bottle which holds just a gallon, for a new supply when my jar begins to grow low. I tell thee (said Loaysa) just such a k●…nde of ●…ife do I lead; and there is no living without it; for, L●…●…ca 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 ●…canta, A dry throat, cannot sing a no●…e.  
Well, fare you well (laid the Negro;) but one word with you before you go, see you do not miss singing here night by night, till you bring those ●…ooles with you to work your entrance in hither, for my finger's ends i●…ch to be fingering of the Ghitterne. Mi●…e singing (said Loaysa) no, I will die first; and to give you the more content when I come next, I will tickle your ears with other new ●…nes. Oh by all means (replied Lewis) that will be ex●… New 〈◊〉? tho●… mak'st my heart leap for joy. But I pray th●…e do not go hence, before ●…hou hast sung 〈◊〉 song mo●…, that I may sleep the better after i●…; and f●… paying you for your pains, believe me though I am 〈◊〉 poor, I will pay you better than those th●…●…re 〈◊〉▪ I d●…e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon that (answered Loaysa) for according 〈◊〉▪ so shall you 〈◊〉 ●…e, and no 〈◊〉. 〈◊〉 now hearken to this tune, and I hope you will like it; but if it be my good hap once to get in to you, thou shal●… see wonders; with a very good will (answered the N●…gro.) This large colloquy being ended, Loysa sung a witty conceited ditty, wherewith the Negro was so well pleased, and satisfied, that he thought every hour a thousand years, till he might see the door opened.  
Loaysa was scarce gone from the door, when as with much more nimbleness than his crutches promised, he hastened to give an account to his companions and counsellors, of this his good beginning, as a prognosticke of the good end which he hoped for. He met with them, finding them altogethe, and recounted unto them what he had concluded with the Negro. And the next day following, he fitted him with such instruments, as should pull out any nail, or knap it asunder, as if it were some small stick. But in the mean while, Loaysa was not careless in his coming to give the Negro music; nor was the Negro negligent in making a hole for the receiving of those tools which his Master should bring him, and to cover it in such sort; that if it were not looked on with a malicious and suspicious eye, it could never be espied.  
The second night Loaysa gave him those instruments, and Lewis tried his strength, and in a manner without putting any force at all, he found the nails, some pulled out broken, and some whole, and the 〈◊〉 in his hands, he oppened the door, and let in his Orphe●…s, and new master. But when he saw him with his two crutches, and so ragged and torn, and his ●…egge so hound about with ●…wathes, he was wonder str●…ken. Loaysa had not clapped his black patch upon his eye▪ because than it was not needful; and thus accountered, as soon as 〈◊〉 entered in, 〈◊〉 hugged his good scholar in his arms, and kissed his 〈◊〉 and presently put into his hands a great bottle of wine, and a box of conserveses, with some other sweet meats which be had brought in a ●…allet along with him. And 〈◊〉 his crutches away from him, as if he had not any infirmity at all, he began to cut two or three capers, whereat the Negro was much more amazed then before, admiring what manner of man this should be, and to what end or purpose he had put on this disguise. To whom (to put him out of his musing) Loaysa said;  
Know (brother Lewis) that this my lameness, and numbness, does not grow from any infirmity that I have, but of set purpose, I feign myself to be thus ill affected whereby I get my living, and bread to put in my mouth, begging for God's sake. And helping myself with this trick, and my music, I pick out a pretty means to maintain myself, and lead the merriest life of any man in the world; whereas they who are not their craft-masters, and use not the like kind of industry, are ready to starve, and often die out of mere hunger. And this thou shalt find to be true, as in the discourse of this our new-founded friendship I shall discover and make clear unto thee.  
Time will show it, answered the Negro; in the mean while let us take order to put this plate again in its own place, that what we have done may not be discerned. With a very good will, replied Loaysa; and so taking nails out of his wallet, they fastened the plate so neatly to the lock, that it was just the same as it was before; wherewith the Negro rested wonderful well contented. And so Loaysa going up to the Negro's loft, accommodated himself the best he could. Lewis presently tinded a wax candle, and without any longer tarrying, Loaysa drew out his Ghitterne, and playing upon it with a soft and sweet touch, suspended the Negro in such sort, that hearing it, he was almost out of his little wits. Having played a pretty while, he took out a new collation, and gave it unto his Scholar, who in swallowing down his sweet meats, drank so deep of the bottle, that it made him more besides himself then the music.  
This being past and ended, he would in all haste, that Lewis should begin to take out his first lesson; and because the poor Negro had four fingers thick of wine swimming in his brain, he could not hit right upon any one of the frets, or make any true stop; and yet notwithstanding Loaysa made him believe that he had learned already two tunes, and the jest was, that the good silly Negro did verily think so indeed. And all that night, he did nothing else but fumble on a Ghitterne out of tune, and worse strung, wanting its most necessary strings thereunto belonging.  
That little of the night which was left them, they slept. And about six in the morning Carrizales came down and opened the middle door, and likewise that towards the street, and stood waiting there for the Dispensero, who came anon after; and putting in the provision for the house at the Tornell, he went thence and called to the Negro that he should come quickly down and take in the provender for the Mule, and with it his allowance for himself. Which he had no sooner done, but old Carrizales went his way in great haste, leaving both doors locked, not perceiving that which was done in that towards the street; whereof the Master, and his Scholar were not a little glad thereat.  
Scarce had the Master of the house got him out of doors, but he hastily snatched up the Ghitterne, and began to play so loud thereon, that all the Maids in the house heard the sound thereof; and calling unto him, asked him at the Tornell. What is this Lewis? whence had you this Ghitterne? who gave it you? Who gave it me (answered Lewis) the best Musician living in the world, and one that hath faithfully undertaken to teach me in less than six days, more than six thousand tunes. But where is this Musician said the old beldame that was mother of the maids? Not far off, replied the Negro; and if it were not for shame, and the fear I have of my Master; peradventure I could show him you with a wet finger, and I vow you would be very glad to see him. But where may he be, that we may see him, answered the beldame? since that into this house never entered any other man, save our own Master. You say well Mistress (said the Negro) but I will say nothing till you see that which I know, sure I am he hath taught me what I told you, in so short a space. Certainly (said the old Dame) if it be not the Devil that hath taught thee, I know not who can make thee turn so good a Musician, in so short a time. Go, get you gone (quoth the Negro) for one of these days, you shall both hear, and see him. That cannot be, replied another of the maids; for we have no windows out towards the street, either to see, or hear any thing. Very good, quoth the Negro; but yet let me tell you, that there is a remedy for all things, save against death; and so much the rather, if you can, or know how to hold your peace. Hold our peace, (replied one of the slaves,) we will be more silent, then if we were dumb. I assure thee (brother Lewis) that like one that hath a longing, I am ready to die, to hear a good voice; for since that we have been here mewed up like so many Hawks, we have not so much as heard the singing of birds.  
All this prattle Loaysa heard, to his passing great contentment, it seeming unto him, that they all tended to the perfecting of his purpose; and that good fortune had put to her helping hand, in cutting out the cloth according to the measure of his own will. The Maids went their way upon the Negro's promising them, that when they least thought on it, he would call them to hear a very good voice. And fearing lest his Master should return▪ and find him talking with them▪ he left them for the present, retiring himself to his lodging. He would feign have been tampering with a new lesson, but he durst not touch the Ghitterne in the day time, lest his Master might chance to hear him, who came a little while after; and shutting the doors as he was wont, locked himself up in his house.  
When the Negro had his dinner given him that day at the Tornell, Lewis said to the Negro that brought it him; that that night after that his Master was a bed and asleep, they should all come down to the Tornell, and that without all fail they should hear the voice he promised them. True it is, that before he told them this, he had with most earnest entreaties, besought his Master that he would be pleased to play and sing that night at the Tornell, that he might make good his word, and comply with the promise he had made, that the Maids should hear an admirable voice; assuring him, that he should be much made of by all of them.  
His master after a great deal of entreating, yielded at last to do that which the Negro, or rather himself so much desired. Howbeit he made show that it was only at his scholar's request, and to give him content, without any other interest of his own. The Negro embraced him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, in token of the contentment, which that his promised favour had caused in him; and that day he feasted Loaysa, and made him better cheer than peradventure he should have found at home.  
The night came, and in the midst thereof, little more or less, they began to hear a whispering about the Tornell; whereby Lewis presently understood, that the whole pack of them were gathered there together. And calling to his Master, they came both down from the Hayloft, with a well strung, but better tuned Ghitterne. Lewis asked who, and how many there were of them that were to hear him? They answered, they were all there save only their Mistress who was in bed with her husband; for the which Loaysa was very sorry; yet notwithstanding, he was willing to give an induction to his design, and to give satisfaction to his scholar; and so touching with a soft and gentle hand his Ghitterne, he did play so sweetly, that the Negro wondered thereat, and the women that heard him were ravished therewith. What shall I say? they thought when they heard him play loath to depart, and that taking tune of the Zarabanda, the newest then in Spain. There was not the oldest amongst them which did not fall a dancing; nor the youngest which did not trick it with their arms a kembo; but very softly, and with a strange kind of silence, having set Sentinels, and spies, to give them notice, if the old man should chance to wake.  
Loaysa likewise sung a merry pleasant Ballad, wherewith he sealed up the ears of his Auditors, who earnestly entreated the Negro, that he would tell them, who was this so rare a Musician? The Negro told them; That he was a poor beggar, but withal, the gallantest, and bravest gentleman, of all that beggarly Corporation in Sevill. They then entreated him, that he would so order the business, that they might come to have a sight of him, and that for a fortnight he should not let him go out of the house, and that they would entertain him all that while very well, and that he should lack nothing, that was needful for him. Then they asked him, how he came to get him into the house? Hereunto, he returned them not one word; but told them, that if they had a mind to see him, they should make a little hole in the Tornell, which afterward they might stop up with Wax; and that he would take it upon him, to keep him in the house.  
Loaysa spoke likewise unto them, offering them his service, in such good language, that thereby they did perceive, that such words could not come from the wit of a poor beggar. They entreated him, that he would repair another night to the same place, and that they would procure their Mistress to come down to hear him, maugre the light sleep of their Master, which lightness grew not from his many years, but from those many jealousies that he had in his head.  
Whereunto Loaysa answered, that if he would hear him without fearing the old man's troubling them, he would give them a powder to put into his wine, that should make him sleep sound above his ordinary time. God bless me said one of the Damosels, if this prove true, what good fortune hath entered within our doors, without our dreaming, or deserving it. This will not be so much a powder of sleep for him, as a powder of life for all of us; and more particularly for our poor Mistress Leonora, his wife, who is never from her, ni a sol, ni a sombra, neither night, nor day, not suffering her to be out of his sight one sole minute. Oh sweet sir, if ever you will do any thing for us, and that our best wishes may wait on you in all that you desire or endeavour; bring this powder, delay no time, bring it, bring it I beseech you, and it shall be my task to mix it with his wine, I will be his skinker; and I wish it with all my heart that the old lad may sleep three whole days, and so many nights, that we may have as many of mirth and jollity.  
Doubt ye not but I will bring it, said Loaysa, and such a one shall it be, that it shall do him no other hurt that takes it, save to provoke him to a most profound sleep. Then all of them jointly besought him, that he would bring it as soon as possibly he could. And so resolving the next night to boar a hole with an augour in the Tornell, and to draw their Mistress thither, that she might see, and hear him, they took their leaves.  
And the Negro, though it were near upon break of day, would needs take forth a new lesson which Loaysa gave him; and withal made him believe, that of all the scholars that ever he taught, not any one had a better ●…are than himself▪ yet the poor Negro knew not, nor ever would come to know what a musical note meant. Loaysa his friends took it to their care, to come nightly to listen between the two doors of the street, to see if their friend had any thing to say unto them, or if he needed aught; and making a certain sign, agreed upon between themselves; Loaysa knew that they were at door, and at the hole before mentioned. He gave them a short account of the good terms whereon his business stood; earnestly entreating them, that they would seek out something that would procure sleep, for to be given to Carrizales. For he had heard some say, that there were some powders which would work this effect. They told him that they had a Physician a friend, that would give them the best that he knew, or had, for that purpose▪ And so animating him to prosecute the enterprise he had undertaken, and promising him to bring it him the next ensuing night they speedily took their leave.  
Night came, and the whole flock of Pigeons came at the call of the Ghitterne; together with them, came that simple soul Leonora, fearful and trembling lest her husband should awake; for though she, overcome with this fear, was not willing to come; yet so many persuasions did her servants use, and more especially her Governess spoke so much in the praise of the sweetness of the music, and the good disposition of the Musician, that although she had never seen him, yet she lifted him up above the clouds, and preferred him before Absalon, and Orpheus. So that the poor Gentlewoman, convinced, and overswayed by them, yielded to do that which she had no will to do, nor ever would have had.  
The first thing they did, was to boar a hole in the Tornell for to see the Musician, who was not now in the habit of a poor mendicant, but in a suit of coloured Taffeta, bedawbed all over with gold lace, and a hat answerable thereunto, with exceeding neat linen in his band and cuffs wherewith he came provided in his wallet; imagining that he might happily meet with some such good occasion wherein it might be fitting for him to change his habit. He was young, of a gentle disposition, and a good presence. And (because he had so much time to friend, that all of them had taken a full view of him,) comparing him with their old Master; he seemed unto them to be an Angel, one peeped through the a●…gar-hole to see him, and then another; and in conclusion all, one after another. And to the end that they might view him the better, the Negro waving his wax candle, one while this way, another while that way, from side to side, from top to toe, gave them a full and perfect sight of his person.  
Now when as they had made an end o●… feeding their eyes, and left further looking on him; Loaysa betook him to his Ghitterne, and sung that night so far beyond those other heretofore, that he struck them all, old, and young with a strange astonishment. And all of them besought Lewis, that he would invent some means how to bring in his Master amongst them, that they might hear, and fee him nearer hand, and not at that distance, and through so narrow a hole; as likewise that they may be rid of their fear by being so far off from their Master, who might suddenly come stealing in upon them and take them napping; which could not so succeed, if they took him into the house, and hid him closely amongst them.  
But this course was crossed by their Mistress, who mainly withstood it, and would by no means give way to his admittance amongst them, saying; Content yourselves, can we not as well see and hear him here; sure I am we may do both with more safety, and ●…esse hazard of our honour. What do you talk of honour? said her Governess, the King hath enough for us all; go I pray and shut up yourself with your Methusalem, and leave us to make merry and enjoy ourselves as we may. And the rather may we give him free entrance, for that he seems to be so honest a gentleman, that he will no other thing of us, than what we will ourselves.  
Hence Loaysa taking his rise, said; Gentlewomen, I am come hither with no other intention, save only to serve you wi●…h my soul, and my life; condoling with you this your unheard of, and never until now seen the like close shurting up, pitying the time which in this strict kind of life ye lose. I am a man (I swear unto you by the life of my Parents) so mild, so meek, so plain in my dealing, of so good a condition, and so obedient, that I shall never do any thing more than what you shall command me. And if any, even the meanest amongst you shall but say unto me, Master sit down here and stir not, master pass to this, or that other place of the house, keep you close in such a corner, lie down and wag not, I will do as you bid me, and with more nimbleness and celerity, than the tamest dog that is taught to leap and dance for the King of France.  
If he will do as he says (said the as ignorant as innocent Leonora) what means may we use that this our musical Master may have access unto us? Very good means, replied Loaysa; do you but get the print of this middle-doore-key in wax, and against to morrow night, I will get another made like unto it, which shall serve our turn. In taking this one key out in wax, we take out all the rest to the whole house; because this is the master-key that opens and commands all, answered one of the Damosels. So much the better (said Loaysa;) You say true said Leonora. But sir you shall first swear, that you shall not do any other thing when you are entered in, save only sing, and play when you shall be commanded; and that you shall submit yourself to be shut up, and to rest there quiet where we shall put you, till we release you. I swear to keep all this truly, answered Loaysa. Nay, this oath is nothing worth (replied Leonora;) you shall swear (said she) by the life of your father, and by the life of your mother▪ I swear (said Loaysa) by the life of my father, and by the life of my mother. This done, another of the damosels said unto him; see (sir) that you do●… not forget the powder, for that is tu autem of all.  
With this, ceased the conversation of that might, all resting wondrous well contented with the consentment which they had made amongst themselves. And fortune, who from good to better, went furthering Loaysa's affairs, who brought his friends to that street two hours after midnight; who making their wont sign, playing on a jewes-trumpe. Loaysa spoke unto them, telling them how things stood with him, and how far he had proceeded in his pretention; entreating them that they would bring him the powder, or some other thing which he had formerly spoken for, for to cast Carrizales into a sound and deep sleep. He acquainted them likewise with that of the master key; they told him, that either the powder, or an ointment should be brought him the night following, being of such force and virtue; that the pulses and temples being anointed therewith, would cause a most heavy sleep, out of which there was no awaking of a man in two days, save by washing with vinegar all those parts which had been anointed; and that if he would give them the key in wax, it should be made out of hand.  
This short dialogue being ended, they withdrew themselves; and Loaysa, and his scholar slept that little part of the night which remained. Loaysa expecting with great longing that which was to come, to see if they would comply with their word concerning the promised key. And though time seem slow and lazy to those that wait upon it, yet at last it goes along with our thought, and comes to meet in that point as we would have it, because it never stands still, but is still going on.  
Well, the expected night was now come, and the accustomed hour of repairing to the Tornell, whether came all the servants of the house, great, and small, black, and white, for all of them were desirous to see this our Musician within their Seraglio, but Leonora came not. And Loaysa ask for her? answer was made, that she was in bed with her Husband, who had locked the door of his lodging; and after that he had thus shut it, when he had laid himself down to sleep, he clapped the key underneath his pillow, and that their Mistress had told them, that when the old man was fallen fast asleep, she would take from under him the master's key, and imprint the same in wax; and that for that purpose she had already prepared it, and made it soft for impression; and that within a little while after, they should come and fetch it at the out side of the hole, which was made of purpose in the door, for a Doc-Cat to come in at. Loaysa wondered much at the wariness of the old man, yet for all this their desire was not daunted.  
Now whilst they were talking of this subject, he heard the jewes-trumpe; he hastened to them at that call, and found that they were his friends, who gave him a little box of ointment, having that property before specified. Loaysa took it, and wished them to stay a while, and he would bring them a pattern of the key. He returned back again to the Tornell, and told Leonora's Governess, who was she that with most earnestness desired his entrance of the box▪ and that she should carry it forthwith to her Mistress, acquainting her with the property it had; and that she should anoint her husband so gently with it, that he might perceive it, and she should see it work wonders. The Governess did so, and coming to the Cat's hole, she found that Leonora was expecting her, lying all along on the ground, with her face towards the hole; whether her Governess being come, she stretched herself out at length after the same manner, and clapping her mouth to her Mistress ear, and speaking in a low voice, told her, she brought the ointment, and after what manner she was to make trial of its virtue. She took the ointment, and told her Governess that by no means she could come by her husband's key, for he had not put it under his pillow as he was wont, but between the two Cholcon's, and in a manner under the very midst of his body▪ but would have have her tell the Master of music, that if the ointment should work that effect as he said it would, then very easily could she take the key from under him as oft as she pleased; and therefore it would be needless to take it in wax. She willed her to go instantly and tell him so, and that she should return back again to see how the ointment wrought, for presently she would anoint him therewith. The governess went down and did her Mistress message to Loaysa, and thereupon he dismissed his friends, who stood waiting for the key.  
Trembling and quaking very softly, and not daring to draw her breath; Leonora went gently anointing the pulses of her jealous husband, and likewise anointed the windows of his nostrils, and when she came to them, it seemed unto her that he did startle at it, and was almost dead for fear, that she should be taken with the theft in her hand. In conclusion, in the best manner she could, she made an end of anointing all those places which they had told her were needful; which was all one as to have embalmed him for his burial.  
It was not long ere the ointment had given manifest signs of its virtue; for anon after the old man began to snore so loud, that the music thereof might be heard without in the street, which was sweeter in her ears, then that of the Master in those of the Negro. And yet as one not fully secured by that which she saw, and heard; she drew unto him, she jogged him first a little, and then a little more to see if he would a wake; and grew at last to be so bold, that she turned him from the one side to the other, without waking him.  
When she saw this, she went to the hole in the door, with a voice, not so low as before, she called to her governess, who was there waiting, and said unto her; give me albricias, some reward for my good news. Carrizales sleeps as sound, as if he were dead. Why then (Mistress) do not you take the key from under him? said the governess, the Musician hath been waiting for it this hour, and more▪ Stay a little (replied Leonora) I am now going for it; and turning up the bed, she thrust her hand between the two Colchons, and took out the key from out the midst of them, without the old man's feeling it. And holding it in her hand she began to leap for joy, and without any more ado, she opened the door and presented it to the governess, who received it with the greatest gladness and contentment in the world.  
Leonora commanded they should open to the Musician, and being let in they should carry him to the gallery, not daring to be far from thence for fear of what might happen; and that in any case they should take a new oath of him, that he should not do ought save what they appointed him, and that if he should not ratify and confirm it a new, in no manner of wise should they open the door unto him. It shall be done (said the Governess,) and I vow unto you that he shall not enter till that he hath sworn, and sworn again. Do not limit him (said Leonora;) but more especially be you sure that he swear by the life of his father, and his Mother, and by that which he loves best, for so shall we rest secure, and we shall have our fill of hearing him sing, and play; and as I live he doth both very delicately. Be gone therefore, without delaying the business any longer, lest we pass away the night only in talking.  
The good Governess tucked up her clothes, set her best foot forward, and in a trice came to the Tornell where all the people of the house stood expecting her. And having showed them the key which she brought along with her, so great was the contentment they all took, that they all took, that they lifted her up above ground in their arms, crying, ●…ivat, ●…ivat, long live our governess. And much more were they joy●…d, when she told them that there was no need of counterfeiting the key; for according to the rate of the sleeping of the anointed old man, they might have the key as oft as they would. Good, very good said one of the Damosels; open this door I pray, and let this gentleman in, that we may once see him. Be not so hasty (replied the governess) there is more in it then to see him, for we must take an oath of him, as we did the other night. He is so good, and so honest (said one of the slaves) that he will not stick upon oaths. Hereupon the governess opened the door, and keeping it half open, and half shut, she called to Loaysa, who had heard every word they said through the hole of the Tornell; who coming to the door, would have entered all at once, but the governess stopping him by putting her hand against his breast, said unto him.  
Sir, I would have you to know, that all they who are within the doors of this house, are as true Virgins, as when their Mothers brought them forth, except my Mistress. And howbeit I may seem unto you to be forty years of age, having not as yet seen thirty, for I want two months and a half of it. And though happily I look somewhat old, I may thank the many troubles and crosses which have followed me; and those you know will add one figure more, if not two to our years, according as they have been more, or less. And this being so as it is, it stands not with reason, that in exchange of hearing two, three, or four songs, we should put ourselves to the hazard of losing so much Virginity, as is here shut up within these walls; for even this Negra, whose name is Guiomar, is a virgin. And therefore sir, though my heart stands well affected towards you; before you enter here into our kingdom, you must take a solemn oath, that you shall do nothing, save what we shall ordain. And if it seem unto thee, that much is that which we require; consider that much more is that which we adventure. And if i●… coming hi●…her your intention be good, you need not to be so nice and scrupulous in swearing. Que albu●…n paga●…r, no le duelen prendas. For he that is a good paymaster, will never be loath to lay down a pawn.  
Well, exceeding well hath our Mistress Marialonso spoken, said one of the Damosels; and like a discreet woman, as well in this, as all other her actions; and therefore Mistress if he will not swear, let him not him come in. Hereupon said Guiomar the Negra, who could speak a little broken Spanish; for my part swear, or swear not, be he what he will be, let him come in; for though he swear never so much, when he is once in, he will forget all his oaths.  
Loaysa, with a great deal of patience and temper, harkened to Marialonso her long Harvenga; and with a grave reposedness, returned this answer. Certainly, (my much honoured and respected friends) my intention never was, is, or shall be other, save to give you liking and content, as far as my poor abilities can reach; and therefore shall not with an ill will take this oath you require of me, yet would I rather that you would have trusted me on my bare word; since that being given by such a one as I am, it should have been as good, and as warrantable as any bond, or obligation whatsoever. I would have you to know that under a corpse cassock, may be a Satin suit; and that a threadbare cloak, may cover a good drinker. But that all of you may rest secure of my good desire, I am resolved to swear like an honest man. And therefore I swear by all that, which in its Proeame the true history of Charlemagne containeth, together with the death of Giant Fierabras, not to transgress, nor go beyond the bounds of the oath that I have taken, nor to swerve from the command of the least and meanest of these Virgins; upon pain that if I shall either in act, or in my desire do otherwise, from this present, till then, and from then till now▪ I give it for void, and of no effect and validity.  
So far went Loaysa on with his oath, when as one of the Damosels, who with attention had given ear unto him, spoke out aloud, saying; this is an oath to move the hardest stones to tender pity; ill fortune befall me, if I suffer you to swear any farther, for with that which you have already sworn you may enter into the sign of Capricorn. And taking hold of his breeches, she pulled him in, and presently all the rest came flocking round about him; and one of them went instantly to advertise their Mistress thereof, who stood centinel, observing her husbands sleeping. And when the messenger told her that the Musician was come into the gallery, she was at one and the same instant both joyful, and sad, and demanded if he had taken his oath? She answered, yes; and in such a new form, as never in all her life she had heard the like. Well (said Leonora) if he hath sworn, we have bound him fast enough. Oh how advisedly was it done of me, to put him to his oath.  
In this interim, came up all the whole troop, and the Musician in the midst of them; the Negro Lewis, and the Negra Guiomar, lighting them up the stairs. And Loaysa no sooner saw Leonora, but he made speedily towards her, making show to throw himself at her feet, and tender his service unto her. She continued silent, and by signs willed him to rise; and all of them were as it were mute, without daring to speak a word, fearing lest their Master should hear them; which being taken notice of by Loaysa, he told them; that they might boldly speak aloud, because the ointment wherewith their Master was anointed, had that force and virtue, that saving the taking away of life, it made a man for the time, as dead as a door▪ nail.  
I believe it said Leonora, for if it were not so, he had awaked twenty times ere this; since that his many indispositions, cause in him short sleeps, but since that I anointed him, he snores like a horse▪ Seeing it is so (said Marialonso) let us go to that hall which is right over against us, where we may hear him sing, and recreate ourselves a little. Be it so said Leonora; but let Guiomar stay here and watch that she may advise us, if Carrizales should chance to awake. Whereunto Guiomar answered; the black must stay, whilst the white must play. The Negra stayed behind, the rest went to the hall, where there was a rich Estrado, covered with Turkey Capets, and costly Cushions whereon to sit; and placing the Musician in the midst in a Chair of Crimson velvet, they took their places and sat down.  
And Marialonso, mother of the maids, taking a light in her hand, she began to take a view of Loaysa from the crown of the head, to the sole of the foot. Then said one of them; oh what a fine foretop, how well coloured, and how stiff it is! Oh said another, what a set of white teeth he hath! what a bad year will this be for blanched Almonds? for his teeth are more clean and white then they. Then another; oh what a full and clear eye he hath! I swear by the life of my mother, that they are like sparkling Diamonds. This, commended his mouth, comparing his lips to Rubies; she his leg and foot. And all of them together dissected the several parts of his body, as if they had meant to make an Anatomy of him. Only Leonora she was silent, but took a fuller view of him then any of the rest, fixing her eyes steadily on him; and the more she looked on him, the more did he seem unto her to be of a better presence than her aged Husband.  
Whilst these things went taking up their contemplations, Marialonso took the Ghitterne which the Negro held, and put it into Loaysa's hands, entreating him that he would play thereon, and that she would sing a song which was then in great request, and mightily applauded in Sevill. The burden of the song which she sung was; Mother keep me not un●…er lock and key. Loaysa cumplyed with her desire. They all of them rose up, and began to prepare themselves to dance. Marialonso had the whole ditty by heart, and sung the same with a better will, than voice. The Verses were these.  Mother, 

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
If I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

Set thou never so many spies,  
o'er looking me with Argos eyes;  
Yet will I find time and leisure,  
For to work my will and pleasure.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
If I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

If that mine own well settled will,  
Shall not shield me from what is ill;  
It is not fear, nor ye●… reward,  
That can a woman's honour guard.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
Is I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

Things for bidden we most desire,  
Your flames suppressed, augment the fire;  
Rivers restrained, do higher rise,  
So much doth Nature freedom prize.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
If I do not myself contain.  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

The God of Love, will find a trick,  
Spite of your teeth, your lock to pick;  
Love ne'er could yet restrained be,  
Whose nature ti's for to live free.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
If I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

Like to a bodkin in a bag,  
Like to a horn in a Stag,  
Or like to blushing in the face,  
Love to get out, will find a place.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can h●…la what will away?  
If I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

Danae shut up in a Tower,  
Cupid to show his mighty power,  
Caused jove in a golden shower,  
To come and crop her Virgin flower.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
If I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

The Air imprisoned in the earth,  
Rips up its womb to force its birth;  
Thunder tears the clouds, disdaining  
Aught should offer its restraining.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
If I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

A full vessel that hath not vent,  
Breaks hoop, and rests all torn and rend▪  
Then strive thou not Nature to force,  
For 'twill return and have its course.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
If I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   

Wherefore (Mother) let me be free,  
And live at mine own liberty;  
Since there is not that lock and key,  
Which can hold fast what will away.   

Keep me not under lock and key,  
For who can hold what will away?  
If I do not myself contain,  
Your watch and ward is all in vain.   
The song being ended, and with it their dancing, wherein the Governess Marialonso was their leader; they had scarce un-handed themselves, when lo, Guiomar their centinel came running in mightily troubled, quaking hand and foot, as if she had a shaking palsy; and with a hollow and low voice, said; my Master is awake Mistress, Mistress, my Master is awake; hie you hence, for he is up and coming hitherward He, who hath seen a flock of Doves feeding in the field, eating without fear what other men's hands have sown▪ when at the cracking report of a discharged Piece, are affrighted, and rise and forgetful of their food, astonished and amazed, betake them to their wings, cleaving therewith the air▪ Just so let him imagine remained this flock, and company of Dancers▪ frighted and amazed with the unexpected news which Guiomar had brought them; and every one severally studying their excuse, and all of them jointly seeking after their safety; one ran to one place, another to another for to hide themselves in the roofs and corners of the house, leaving the Musician all alone; who leaving his Ghitterne, and his singing full of perurbation, knew not in the world what to do, or how to dispose of himself.  
Leonora she wrung her fair hands, buffeted the face, though but softly, of her Governess Marialonso. In a word, all was confusion, amazement, and fear. But the governess as one more subtle, and had her wits better about her then the rest; so ordered the business, that Loaysa should be put into her lodging chamber, and that herself, and her Mistress should abide still in the hall, and that an excuse should not be wanting to be given to her old Master, in case he should come and find them there.  
Loaysa made presently the best shift he could to hide himself; and the governess she was very attentive in listening whether her Master were coming, or no; and not hearing any the least noise, she began to take heart, and by little and little, step after step, she went drawing nearer and nearer to the chamber where her Master lodged, and heard that he snored as he did before. And being assured that he was asleep, she tuck't up her clothes before, and returned running, craving albricias of her Mistress, of her Masters being asleep, whom she willingly rewarded.  
The good governess would not lose that fair opportunity which offered itself unto her, of being the first enjoyer of those good parts which she imagined the Musician had. And therefore telling Leonora that she should stay awhile in the hall, till she went to call him; she left her and went where he was no less amazed, then pensive expecting the news of what was become of the anointed old man, and what he did. He cursed the falseness of the ointment, and complained of the credulity of his friends, and accused his own indiscretion, that he had not first made trial thereof upon some other, before his experimenting of it upon Carrizales.  
Whilst he was thinking on these things, in comes the Governess, and assured him that the old man slept more, and better than he did before. His heart was much quieted herewith, and was very attentive to many amorous words which Marialonso uttered unto him, whereby he collected her evil intention; and determined with himself, to make her the hook and line where withal to fish her Mistress.  
Now whilst these two were talking together, therest of the servants who had hid themselves in divers parts of the house; one bolted out here, and another there, to see if it were true that their Master was awake. And perceiving that all was buried in deep silence, they came to the Hall where they had left their Mistress, of whom they understood their Masters continuing still asleep. And ask for the Musician, and the Governess, she told them where they were; and all of them with the self same silence and stillness which they brought with them, went fair and softly, harkening at the door what they two treated of.  
The Negra Guiomar was not missing at this their parley, but the Negro Lewis was wanting, for he no sooner heard that his Master was awake; but taking his Ghitterne along with him, he hastened to hide himself in his Hayloft, and covering himself over head and ears with his poor bed-blanket; he sweated, and did so sweat for fear, one drop overtaking another, that his shirt was dung-wet. And yet for all this, he did not forbear tampering on the Ghitterne, which he hugged close in his bosom, wronging the strings with his untunable fingering; such and so great (now fie upon him) was the affection which he bore to Music.  
The wenches overheard the court and love tricks of the old Beldame, every one of them sent their bad wishes after her, some in one ill favoured phrase, and some in another; and not any one of them did call her old, but with an addition of Hag, Witch, Bawd, and some other worse (if worse could be) which for good respects I silence.  
But that which moved most laughter in those that heard them, were the words which Guiomar the Negra uttered; who for that she was a Portuguesse, spoke no good Spanish, yet very unhappily, and in a strange kind of witty manner did play upon her, taxking her loose and wanton carriage. In effect, the conclusion of the discourse between these two, was; that he would condescend to her will, on condition, that she should first deliver up her Mistress to his will. She offered to effect what he desired; so that in requital thereof, he would comply with her desire; for he had already taken such full possession of her soul, that she cared not what impossibilities she promised, in an imaginary hope of procuring her own lustful pleasure.  
On these terms she left him, and went forth to speak with her Mistress; and seeing at her first stepping out that all the servants were got together about her door, she commanded them that they should withdraw themselves to their several lodgings; and that the next night they should have time enough to enjoy both their wishes, and the Musician with less disturbance, since that this night the fear they were put into, had much abated the edge, and soured the sweetness of their sport and jollity.  
All of them understood on what foot the old trot halted, and this was but a shift to rid them thence, that she might be left alone by herself; yet durst do no otherwise but obey her, because she was mother of the maids, and had the rule and command of them.  
The maids they were gone; the coast being now clear, she came into the hall to persuade her Mistress to yield unto Loaysa's will; and that in such partheticall manner in a long continued speech, and in such a smooth and well ordered a style, as if she had studied it many days before. She endeared unto her his gentile carriages, the sweetness of his disposition, the vigour of his youth, his valour, his wit, and his many other graces and good parts. Furthermore painting forth unto her, how much more sweet and pleasing would the embracements of a young lover be, than those of an old decrepit husband; assuring her of all secrecy and duration of delight, with divers other such like things as these, which the Devil had put into her tongue; shadowed over with rethorical colours, and what varnish eloquence could lay upon them; so demonstrative and so effectual, as might have moved not only the tender heart of simple and unwary Leonora, but even that of the hardest marble. Oh ye smooth filled tongues! Oh ye pleated veils! the honourable wear of grave Matrons, chosen out of purpose for to authorise the rooms, and the Estrados of your principal Ladies; how contrary to your place and duty do ye exercise this your powerful, nay rather in a manner enforcing office!  
Marialonso took her Mistress by the hand, and as it were by force (her eyes being full of tears) brought her thither where Loaysa was; and shutting the door after her, she left them there together, but went herself and laid her down upon the Estrado, to see if she could take a little sleep, but for that she had watched two nights before, overcome with drowsiness, she fell fast asleep on the Estrado.  
Now, if at such a time and season as this a man should have asked Carrizales, had he not been asleep, what is become now of your well advised circumspections? your fearful jealousies? your wise animadversions? your pi●…hie persuasions? your wise and grave admonitions? What of those high walls of your house? what of there not entering thereinto any thing that should have the name, no not the shadow of a man? what of your close kept Tornell? your master-key? and your window without light? and that your strange and unheard of shutting up of all your people under lock and key? What of that great Dowry wherewith you endowed Leonora? Those Regalos, and dainties, wherewith you continually entertained her? the good usage and liberal allowance of your servants, and slaves? and your not failing in any one title in all that which you imagined they could possibly wish, or desire? But we have told you already, that there was no ask of him these and such other like questions, because he slept somewhat a longer time than was needful and expedient for him.  
But admit he should have heard all this, and put case he should have made answer thereunto; he could not have given a better, then in shrinking up his shoulders, in knitting of the brow, and in saying; All this building, the subtitle of a wanton and vicious young man, the wickedness of a false and Devilish Governess, meeting with the unadvisedness of an over entreated, and persuaded young Woman, hath utterly demolished, and in an instant thrown down to the ground.  
But yet notwithstanding all this, the virtue and goodness of Leonora was such, that in that time which was most needful for her, she showed her valour against those villainous enforcements, and base strive of this cunning Impostor; and that with such strong and powerful a resistance, that he was not able to overcome her, but wearied himself in vain, so that she went away with the victory; and both of them being quite tired out, and having over watched themselves, fell fast asleep.  
Now when all was thus hush and quiet, Heaven had so ordered it; that Carrizales in despite of the ointment, awaked; and (as his usual custom and manner was) he stretched out his arms, and with his hands went feeling the bed from side to side, and not finding therein his beloved Wife; he leapt out of the bed all amazed and astonished, with much greater nimbleness than his many years promised; and when he found her not in the Chamber, and saw the door open, and that the key was wanting between the Colchones, he was ready to run out of his wits. But recollecting himself a little better, he went out into the Gallery, and going thence as soft as foot could fall, that he might not be heard, he came into the Hall where the Governess was sleeping; and seeing her all alone without Leonora, he made to the lodging of the Governess, and opening the door very softly, he saw that which he could have wished he might never have seen; he saw that which he would have held a great happiness that he had no eyes for to see it. He saw Leonora in the arms of Loaysa, sleeping so sound, as if the ointment had wrought upon them, and not on the jealous old man.  
Carrizales had quite lost the beating of his pulses, with the unexpected sight of what he saw, his voice cleaved to his throat, his arms fell down through faintness, so that he stood still like a Statue of cold Marble. And though choler did its natural office, seeking to quicken and revive those his almost dead spirits; yet sorrow did so oversway his anger, that it would scarce give him leave to fetch his breath. And yet notwithstanding, would he have taken such revenge, as so great a wickedness deserved; if he had any weapon about him wherewith to have avenged himself of the wrong that was done him. And therefore resolved with himself to return back again to his chamber to fetch a dagger; and at his return, to take out the stains of his honour, with the blood of these his two enemies, and together with theirs, that of all that infamous rabble of his house.  
Having put on this honourable and necessary resolution▪ he returned with the self same silence, and wariness wherewith he came to his lodging, where grief and anguish so wrung and oppressed his surcharged heart, that without any further power to do any thing, he fell down in a swound upon his bed.  
In this interim the day appeared, and caught these supposed new adulterers, entangled in the net of each others arms. Marialonso she awaked, and would have gone for that to Loaysa, which for the good service she had done him, she thought of right appertained unto her. But seeing that the day was now fully in, she was willing to defer the receiving of her recompense, till the coming of the night.  
Leonora was much troubled and perplexed, seeing it was now broad day, cursing her own carelessness, and that of her accursed Governess, whilst both of them with hasty steps hied them thither where her husband was; praying to themselves as they went along, that they might find him still snoring. And when they saw him lying on the bed, and not a word come from him, they did verily believe that the ointment continued its working, since that he slept; and with great rejoicing, Leonora and Marialonso embraced each other.  
Anon after, Leonora drew nigher and nigher to her husband, and taking hold of one of his arms, she turned him from the one side to the other, to try whether he would awake, without putting her to the pains to wash him with vinegar, as she had been told was needful to bring him again to himself. But with that tumbling and tossing of him too and fro, Carrizales returned from out his swooning, and fetching a deep sigh, said with a lamentable weak voice; Oh miserable and unfortunate man that I am! to what bad terms hath my fortune brought me!  
Leonora did not well understand what her husband said, but as soon as she perceived that he was awake, and that he spoke, wondering to see that the virtue of the ointment did not last so long as was signified unto them; she came unto him, and saying her face to his, muching him with strict embracements, she said unto him; What ail'st thou sweetheart? me thinks I hear you complain as if you were not well.  
The good old man heard the voice of his sweet enemy, and opening his eyes in a wild kind of fashion like one amazed, and startled out of some fearful dream, he fixed them on her with great earnestness, and without moving the least hair of his eyelids, he looked wissely and steadily on her a great while, and then at last he said unto her; Let me entreat thee (my dear) that you presently out of hand send for your father, and mother to come hither to me, for I feel I know not what in my heart which does pain me exceedingly, and I fear it will speedily shorten my life: and I would feign see them before I die.  
Doubtless Leonora did certainly believe that what her husband said, was true; thinking that rather the strength of the ointment, then that which he had seen, had put him into this trance. And telling him, what he commanded should be done. She sent away Lewis the Negro, willing him that he should forthwith go to her Parents, and hasten their speedy coming hither, for that the business required much haste, and their personal presence. Having dispatched the messenger, she came to her Husband, embraced him, kissed him, and used towards him greater expressions of kindness then ever she had made show of heretofore; ask him how he did? where his grief lay? and that with such tender and loving words, as if he had been the only thing in the world which she most loved and esteemed. He looked on her in the same kind of wild manner before mentioned; every word that she uttered, and every muching which she made of him, being a lance that smote him to the heart, and a sword that wounded his very soul.  
In this mean while, the governess had acquainted the servants of the house, and Loaysa with her Master's sickness; endearing unto them, that it would quickly make an end of him, since that he had forgotten to command the doors towards the street to be shut, when the Negro went forth to call her Mistress Parents; wondering withal, why they should be sent for in such post-haste, since that neither of them had put their foot within that house, since they first married their Daughter.  
In a word, they were all of them very silent, and knew not well what to make of it, none of them lighting on the true cause of their Master's sickness, who ever and anon did fetch such deep and doleful sighs, as if every sigh would have broken his heartstrings, and rend up his soul by the roots from his body. Leonora wept to see him sigh in such sort, and he smiled to himself, like one that was not well pleased, considering the falsehood of her tears.  
Now by this time Leonora's Parents were come, and for that they found the door to the street, and that to the inward Court open, and the house buried in silence, and no body to be seen, they wondered at it, and could not tell what to think of it, no small fears possessing their minds, several passions housing themselves in their distracted imaginations. Thus troubled, they went to their Son in Law's lodging, and found him (as already hath been delivered) with his eyes nailed to his wife, whom he held fast by the hand, both of them shedding many tears. She, on no other occasion, save seeing her husband shed them; and he, to see how feignedly his wife did let them fall.  
As soon as her Parents were entered within the chamber, Carrizales saluted them, and said; I pray sit you down, and let all the rest void the room, only I will that the goveruesse Marialonso stay here; they did so. And only these five remaining there without expecting that any body else should speak, in a low and soft vocye, (wiping first his eyes) Carrizales spoke unto them after this manner.  
I am well assured (dearest father and mother) that it shall not be needful to bring any witnesses for to make you believe a truth, which I shall deliver unto you. You may very well remember (for it is not possible it should slip out of your memory) with how much love, and with how great tenderness a year now since, one month, five days, and nine hours, you delivered up unto me your beloved Daughter, to be my lawful wife. Ye likewise know what a great dowry I made her; which was such, and in so liberal a manner, that three or four of the same quality as herself, might therewith have been married, with the opinion of rich. Ye may also call to mind the care and diligence I took in apparelling her, and adorning her with all that she can desire or imagine; or that I could come to know was most fitting and convenient for her. In like manner (my very good friends) ye have seen, how carried away by mine own natural condition, and fearful of that ill, which doubtless will be my death; and experienced by reason of my great age, in the strange and various accidents of the world; I was desirous to keep this jewel which I had made choice of, and ye gave me, with the greatest chariness, and wariness, as was possible for me to do. I raised up the walls of this house to a great height? I took away the sight and light from the windows towards the street; I made double locks to the doors; I made such a Tornell, as they have at your Monasteries; I banished perpetually therefrom, all that which had but the shadow, or name of man, or male-kind. I gave her servants and slaves to attend her person; nor did I deny them, or her, aught that they did ask of me; I made her my equal; I communicated with her my most secret thoughts, and made her Mistress of all my wealth and means. All these were such works, being rightly and duly considered, as might have fully secured me of enjoying of that without disturbance, which hath cost me so much; and that she should have made it her study, not to have given me any the least occasion of letting any kind of jealous fear to enter into my thought. But because the chastisement cannot be prevented by humane diligence, which the divine will of Heaven is willing to inflict on those who do not wholly place therein their desires, and hopes, it is no marvel that I remain defrauded in mine. And that I myself have been the Confectioner of that poison, which now goes shortening and taking away my life. But because I perceive the suspension wherein all of you stand, upon these words proceeding from my mouth; I will conclude the long preambles of this my discourse, with telling you in one word, that which is not possible to be uttered in many thousands. I tell you then (my noble friends) that all that which I have said, and done, ends in this; that this woman I found (borne into the world, for the disturbing of my quiet, and loss of my life) (pointing to his wife) in the arms of a lusty young man, which is now secretly shut up in the lodging of this pestiferous Governess.  
Scarce had Carrizales ended these words, when as Leonora having her heart suddenly clouded, fell into a swound between her husband's knees. Marialonso lost her colour, and looked as pale as ashes; and Leonora's Parents had such a knot knit athwart their throats, that it would not give them leave to speak one word.  
But Carrizales going on where he left, said, the revenge which I purpose to take for this foul affront, is not, nor shall be such as ordinarily in the like cases are wont to be taken. And therefore I will, that as I was extreme in that which I did; so likewise shall be the vengeance which I will take▪ by taking it on myself, as most culpable in this offence. For I should, and aught to have considered with myself, that ill could agree and sort together the fifteen years of this young Woman, with the almost fourscore of mine; I was he, who like the Silkworm, wrought the house wherein I must die. Nor do I blame thee ill advised young soul, (and in saying this, he bowed down his head, and kissed the cheek of Leonora) I do not blame thee, I say; because the persuasions of subtle old Beldames, and the love-tricks of amorous young men, easily overcome and triumph over that little wit which thy few years afford. But because all the world may see and know the worth & value of that good will and affection wherewith I ever loved thee; in this last passage of my life, I will show it in such sort, that it may remain in the world for an example, if not of goodness, yet at least of such simplicity of heart, as was never heretofore heard of, or seen. And therefore I will that a Scrivener be presently sent for, to make a new my last Will and Testament; wherein I will double Leonora's Dworie: and shall entreat her after my days are ended, which will be but a few; that she dispose her will (since that she may then do it without enforcing) to marry with that young man, whom the grey hairs of this unfortunate old man never offended. And so shall she see, that if living I did never go one jot from that which I thought might give her content; now dying, I am desirous to do the like; that she may take that felicity with him whom she seemeth to love so dear. And to you (kind Father and Mother) I will have a great care to leave you so well, and so rich, that you shall live plentifully during both your lives. The rest of my wealth shall go to godly and pious uses. 'Cause the Scrivener to come presently unto me, for the passion which hath already taken hold of me, doth so oppress and torment my heart, that it goes increasing, and will in a very short time cut off the thread of my life.  
Having said this, he fell into a worse swooning then the former, and fell down so near to Leonora, that their faces were joined each to other. A strange and sad spectacle for those her Parents, who with mournful heart and eyes looked on their beloved Daughter, and their kind Son in Law. The naughty Governess would not stay to receive the rebukes and the reprehensions, which she thought Leonora's Parents would bestow upon her; and therefore she got her out of the lodging, and went to advertise Loaysa of all what had passed; advising him, to get him instantly out of the house, and that she would take care to certify him by the Negro, of the success of this business, since that now there were no doors, nor keys to hinder his passage. Loaysa was wonder-strucken with this strange news, and following her counsel, returned to put on his old rags like a poor beggar; and hastened to give an account to his frieds of the success of his love.  
In the interim that those two were thus transported with their several passions; Leonora's Father sent to call a Scrivener, an inward friend of his, who came just at that time that his Daughter and Son in Law were come again to themselves. Carrizales made his Will in that form and manner as we told you before, without declaring Leonora's error; more than that for some good respects, he earnestly besought and entreated her that she would marry, in case he died, with that young man, whom he had told her of in secret.  
When Leonora heard this, she fell down at her Husband's feet, and her heart panting within her breast, she said unto him; Live (my dear husband, and my chiefest bliss) live many, many years. For albeit you are not bound to believe me in aught that I shall say unto you; know, that I have not offended you, save only in thought; and beginning to excuse herself▪ and to recount at large the truth of the case; she could not move her tongue to speak a word more, but fell a new into a swound.  
Being in this dismayment, her grieved Husband embraced her; her loving Parents embraced her; and all of them wept so bitterly, that they obliged, and even in a manner, enforced the Scrivener to accompany them in their tears, who made the Testament. Wherein he left sufficient maintenance to all his houshold-servants; he manumitted, and set at liberty his women-slaves, together with the Negro: but to false Marialonso, he bequeathed no more, but her bare wages.  
Having thus settled his estate, the seventh day following, he was borne to his grave. Leonora remained a very sad and mournful Widow, but was left very rich. And when as Loaysa well hoped, that she would comply with that (whereof he was not ignorant) which her Husband had recommended unto her in his Testament; but afterward saw, that within a seven-night after his death, she became a Nun, and was admitted into one of the strictest Monasteries of all the City; being frustrated of his hopes, and ashamed to show his face, lest he should be made a laughingstock, and byword to all that knew him, he left Sevill, and went for the Indieses.  
Leonora's Parents were full of sorrow, and heaviness, though somewhat comforted with that, which their kind son in law had left them in his last Will, and Testament. The Maidservants cheered themselves, as well as they could, with the liberal Legacies he had given them; And those his shee-slaves, together with Lewis the Negro, rested the better satisfied with their enfranchisement and freedom.  
But that wicked, and accursed Governess, she was left (as she well deserved) very poor, and defrauded of all her evil thoughts, and lewd purposes. And I myself rest very well pleased, that I am now come to the end of this success, Example, and Mirror of the little confidence, which is to be put in Keys, Locks, Tornells, and Walls, when as the will continueth free, and at liberty. And how much less we are to trust, and rely on green and tender years, when are exhibited to their ●…ares, the exhortations, and persuasions of such ill-disposed Governesses, whose habit and attire is grave and Matron-like, but their tongues and hearts, full of deceit and mischief.  
Only I do not know what was the reason, that Leonora did not express herself more at large, in excusing herself, and in giving her jealous Husband to understand, how clear, and unspotted she was, and how clear from doing him any wrong in that kind: but perturbation, it should seem, had knit a knot on her tongue, and the haste her Husband made to die, did not give her time enough to make her just excuse.  
FINIS.