PARISMENOS: THE SECOND PART OF THE most famous, delectable, and pleasant History of Parismus, the renowned Prince of Bohemia.  
The adventurous travels and Noble Chivalry of Parismenos, the Knight of Fame, in divers Countries.  
The second time Imprinted, and amended.  
T C  VIRESSIT VULNERE VERITAS  printer's device of Thomas Creede 
LONDON Printed by Thomas Creed, 1605.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, NOBLE, PRVdent, and virtuous Lady, the Countess of Essex, the Almighty grant everlasting Honour and Happiness.  
ANimated by the view of your manifold virtues, (Right Honourable Lady) I have presumed to shroud this simple work, under the harbour of their protection, resting in confidence, your Honour will vouchsafe to accept the same, though nor for the worthiness, yet for the well meaning intent of the writer, who in all duty dedicateth his endeavours, to deserve your Honourable favour. Trusting your favourable and prudent censure, will extinguish the blemish of my overboldness: and your wisdom, receive with favour, what is presented with affection.  
Pythias Apollo, refused not to drink in wooden dishes: Alexander the great and mighty Monarch, disdained not to travel, to visit simple Diogenes in his Cell. Not the gifts value, but the givers good will, hath been always esteemed. Even so I rest in hopeful assurance, that (of your own most Honourable and virtuous inclination to favour learning) you will deign to take this small gift, proceeding from my hearty good will. Which I am bold to present to your protection, thereby in some sort to express my humble duty, which bindeth me to give your worthiness a far better present than this, if my ability were correspondent. The dutiful regard I bear to your laudable gifts, being such, that I am unable (having no other mean) to express the same: humbly beseeching your honour, to accept this gift in place of a better: and my humble and dutiful meaning, in steed of a better performance: And (according to your virtuous bounty) vouchsafe to protect this talon of my poor labours, under the Title of your honourable Patronage. Which shall bind me to invocate the almighty, to endue your noblemind with innumerable virtues, increase your honours, enrich you with all blessings, and reward you with eternal happiness.  
Your Honours in all duty. Emmanuell Ford.   

To the Courteous Reader.  
GEntlemen, according to my promise, I have set forth this second part of Parismus, which I wish may prove worthy your favour and kind estimation, the Anchors whereon my hopes depend: and though it deserve not so much, yet let my good meaning therewith purchase the same. If you find any imperfections, pass them over with a careless respect: and if ought please your fancy, let it countervail that which is amiss. If neither well nor amiss, than I pray rest indifferent: and let your courtesy be greater than my boldness: and your favour beyond my desert. My intent was to please, but if not, my labours are ill bestowed, and my hap the harder: If I may breed any delight to the well minded, or purchase any good opinion of the well-willers to learning, than I have the reward I expect. One peradventure will say, the invention is barren: another, the English is harsh: and a third, all is nought. Yet let me answer in my own behalf, that which is lightly discommended, is not easily amended: and the work well done, that pleaseth all: and that very harsh that none liketh. But I submit myself to the wise, courteous, and learned: whom I trust will vouchsafe to esteem favourably of my good intent: that though I am not able to compare with any: yet I am willing to prove worthy: and have taken some pains to procure their good opinion, unto which I submit myself. As for Momus mates, that are contented with nothing, yet desire most: I let them pass as regardless, whom I neither care to please, nor displease: but if my fortune be so adverse, that I cannot procure their delight I would, than I plead penitency: protesting I was in good hope of their favour. Knowing this, that which disagrees with one's fancy, may delight an others. So that I am in hope this poor Treatise, may pass with the favourable opinion of some, though not of all, yet especially of the courteous: That I still rest in hope, I shall not be frustrated in all my expectation, but reap your courteous censure, for my good meaning. And so I commit you to the heavens protection.  
Your friend, E. Ford.   

THE second PART OF THE MOST FAMOUS, delectable, and pleasant History of Parismus, the renowned Prince of Bohemia, his travels with the valiant Rnight Pollipus; in search of Violetta.  

CHAP. I. How Parismus after Pollipus marriage, departed from Thessaly. And of a strange adventure befell them in Bohemia.  
AFter that Pollipus had wedded Violetta (as is declared in the first part of this History) and every one in Dionysius Court enjoyed his own hearts content, Parismus again desired to see his native country of Bokemia, from whence he had been long time absent: as also to comfort his aged Parents, who languished with extreme sorrow, doubting that he was perished.  
Parismus now determined to take his journey by land, the rather for the Laurana could not brook the seas, the passage being long and dangerous, that within few days Parismus (having with Laurana, Pollipus, Violetta, Tellamur, Barzillus, and two hundredth Knights, being honourably accompanied onward of their journey, by Dionysius and Olivia, the King of Hungary, the Prince of Sparta, and his beloved Clariana, Lord Remus, and Lady Isabella, with thousands of the citizens of Thebes,) left the bounds of Thessa●ie, to the exceeding grief of all, especially to the King and Queen, whose farewelles were expressed with exceeding sorrows, and hearts replenished with sadness, whose care for their welfare, and prayers for their prosperous success, were uttered with a bunandce offeares. They on the other side, with like heavy discontentment, and sad sighs, left their delightful company, with whom they could everlastingly have remained, i● weighty occasions had not withdrawn them. To recount their trau●●ler, and the countries they overpast, would be tedious, the rather for that they were neither crossed by misfortune, nor any way ●●aungered, but achieved the tediousness thereof, with prosperous success, and within few days, they arrived in the wished country of Bohemia, whither Parismus welcomed Leurana, with these speeches. Now most dear Lady, you set foot on she Bohemian soil, whither I have long time wished to conduct you, desiring you to account both it and all therein, as yours to dispose of, and though by your departure, you left your parents in heaviness, your friends in care, g●d your subjects discomented: yet here shall you find parents, whom you shall raise from heaviness friends whom you shall comfort, and subjects whose pensive hearts will be revived with your presence. Then I beseech you, let no disquiet thought trouble your hind heart's ●●tent, but esteem yourself both welcome and beloved 〈◊〉 ●hemia, for thousands of my subjects have already devoted their lives to your command. And dear friends quoth he, as myself I esteem you, and as myself, esteem yourselves welcome hither, for your kindness hath deserved that estimation and recompense, that I am not able to make. And dear friend Pollipus my faithful partner in woe, make you account of all mine as your own, ●or we●l have you deserved all kind estimation and friendship of me, whom you have infinitely bound to you in all league of affection. The Bohemians soon had knowledge of their arrival, and by infinite troops came to meet them. Amongst the rest, Aurestes an anrient noble man, desired Parismus to bonchsafe him such honour, as to grace his poor mansion with his presence, & to except of his unworthy entdrtainment, to refresh himself after his tedious travails: whose kind offer Parismus curtiously accepted: where he and the princess Laurana were so honourably and lovingly entertained, as that she & the rest that were strangers, exceedingly marveled there at. The aged king and Queen, having intelligence that Parismus was arrived & in safety, cast off their former habit of sadness, and banished care, which long had tormented them, and with exceeding joy, unwonted state, and inexplicable majesty, went forth to meet him, royally accompanied with gallant troops of estates. Parismus seeing his aged parents, with a●l reverence humbled himself to them: who could have spent many hours only embracing him, but seeing Laurana, they both came unto her, most lovingly welcoming her, expressing the same with tears, proc●●●●●g from the depth of kindness: withal, uttering these words. Most virtuous, kind, and honourable Princess, our words cannot express your welcome, nor our deeds, show our good will, our joy for your presence is not to be described, and our entertainment too simple to entertain you according to our desires. Which said, the aged queen, after a loving embrace, took her by the hand, and all the Ladies of high estate, saluted her with most reverent behaviour. The good King knowing Pollipus, embraced and welcomed him with great kindness. Likewise the Queen welcomed Violetta, and on every side, all expressed their joy, for their happy arrival, Bonfires were made in the City, the bells rung in the country, and triumphs in the Court, some welcomed them with gifts, some with mirth, some with praises, and all with joy and exceeding rejoicings, which my dulled pen is altogether unskilful to describe, the king and queen, exceedingly rejoiced in their sons virtuous choice: and in laurana's presence. Laurana was affected with great delight to see their kindness, Parismu● had his fill of content, and altogether greatly admired laurana's beauty, and did their best to welcome and entertain the whole company that came with Parismus, with all courtesy: that the Bohemian court which lately was darkened with the mists of sorrow, was now beautified with the pleasant assemblies of knights and Ladies, that repaired thither to welcome home Parismus, and behold the princess Laurana. In which place they continued many days after. But Fortune whose conssancie was never permanent, but disposeth their content.  
Pollipus and Violetta upon a day walked forth for recreation, some half mile from the Court, into a most pleasant shady green wood, which by means of the coolness and abundance of sweet smelling flowers, wherewith it was adorned, and by natural sleight was so p●uised, with the assistance of little twigs and sprays, that neither the heat of the sun, nor vehemency of wind could molest it, that the place seemed to add increase to their delight, where they lovingly sat down, recreating themselves with great pleasure, and at last fell both a sleep, in midst of which slumber, a ravenous wild bear that haunted those woods, whom extreme hunger had forced to wander so near the Court, wound them, and guided by unlucky sat, came to the place where they lay, ready to seize upon the tender body of kind Violetta, who at the very instant (by the divine providence) awaked, and espying the ugly bear, suddenly shrieked. Pollipus amazed with her cry, started up and drew out his sword, and rescued her from the beasts violence, pursuing him with such vigour and dexterity, that the bear being grievously wounded, shunned his blows, and made haste to get from him, but he intending to win honour by his conquest, regardesly pursued the bear, until he was quite out of Violetas sight. Who likewise fearing his harm, and pricked forward with a tender care of his welfare, followed after him, but not knowing which way he was gone, took a quite contrary way, and with ege● steps laboured to overtake him He having with much travel slain the bear, smote off his head, and intending to present ●hat spoil to his love, came back to the place where he had left her, and missing her, he could not well tell what to think, being persuaded she was gone to seek him, wherewith he was wrapped into an extreme perplexity and doubt: fearing that if he should go to the Court to seek her, she might in the mean time wander out of the way, and run into danger. Contrarily, he thought if he should seek her in the wood, and she be in the Court, his long tarriance might bring her in some fear of his welfare, that in these extremities he could not determine of any thing: at last calling her with a loud voice by name, and not hearing her answer, with all hast he ran to the Court with his spoil upon his swords point, and running hastily, he inquired if any saw Violetta return, but she was not there heard of, which made him cast down the bears head, and without speaking a word, returned towards the wood again. Which strange behaviour of his, drove the Courtiers (but especially Parismus) into a wonderful doubt. Parismus seeing the bears head, and hearing some speech of Violetta's absence, presently mounted a goodly steed, and with haste road that way he was directed Pollipus went. Tellamar, Barzillus, and many of the Knights, followed after him, neither of them knowing wherefore they made such haste.  
Parismus having overtaken him, demanded if any mischance had befallen Violetta? My Lord (quoth he) as she and I lay stumbring in this wood, the bear whose head I brought to the Court, was ready to seize upon her, but she with a shriek awaked me, and I pursued him until I had slain him: and returning to the place where I left Violetta, she was gone: neither can I suppose whither, unless she be wandered to seek me: the haste I made, was to come back to seek her. Do so quoth Parismus, and myself and these Knights will search the wood through●u●, so every one took a several way.  
Violetta in the mean time, still wandered on without regard whither she went, her fear persuading her, that she heard Pollipus blows and the Bear gone right before her, that with as much speed as she could, she ran quite out of the wood, but not yet setting eye on him, (the night approaching) she was drawn into an exceeding fear of his welfare, and her own danger: for to go back by the wood she durst not, fearing lest she might again meet the furious beast: and to go further she thought it vain, for she saw no likelihood he was come out of the wood, and there, what with grief and weariness, she sat down upon a banque, encumbered and overwhelmed with a thousand cares and giving her mind some respite to ponder on her miserable estate, for fear of her most dear Knights danger, she entered into such heavy plaints and lamentations, that even the very woods and meadows wherinto she was wandered, seemed to impart her sorrows, & yield pity to her cries & scorching sighs. At which very instant (I know not by what unlucky destiny) Archas the cruel (so called for his cruel tyranny) came to the hearing of her lamentations, and dra●●ing nigh to her, demanded her cause of sorrow, Sir knight (quoth she) I am a stranger, that lately came from Thessaly, with the Prince of this country, and this day, coming into these woods with my Lord & husband Pollipus, a mighty bear encountered us, whom he pursuing, I have lost, & am wandered hither, not knowing which way to retire, Archas all this while, well noting her exceeding beauty, and sweet delivery of speech, the gracious moving & disposition of her eyes, which had power to pierce millions of hearts, felt such an inward effect of transitory confusion in himself, that he resolved, having so fit opportunity offered him, to try his wita to win her love or exercise by that means, some revenge against Parismus whom he mortally hated, uttering these speeches.  
Most sweet Lady, my heart is much tormented to see the sorrow you néedlesly make, for no doubt your knight is in safety: pleaseth you to accept of my service, my seruā●s shall guard you to the Bohemian court, where you shall find him: and myself will search the wood to give him knowledge of your return.  
Violetta kindly thanked him for his courtesy, who presently mounted her behind one of his servants, giving them secret warning to convey her to his own castle, which was situate in the mountains: himself took her scarf, which he said he would deliver unto Pollipus, as a t●ken that she was in safety: wherewith he departed back into the wood, and tore the same into many pieces, here scattering one, and there confusedly casting another, & withal hast, road an other way to his Castle. All soul could not eat one bit, but all things seemed to be hateful: their sweet music harsh: their courteous entertainment, rude and barbarous: and that well adorned place, more loathsome than a prison: nothing but care and grief could take place in her unquiet breast. After supper, they brought her to a most pleasant chamber, where all things were most neatly provided, comforting her with many perswasione, that Archas was at the Bohemian Court to expect her coming, and by reason of the night's approach, could not come back that night, but would early in the morning bring her news, entreating her to betake herself to her rest: which she did, the rather to be rid from their company, that being alone she might enter into consideration of her estate: and being by herself, she began to revolve in her mind, her miserable condition, Pollipus peril, and Archas intent: for herself she care● not, if Pollipus were in safety: neither feared she what Archas intended, if her Knight were in health: that so many cares concurring together, so many doubts clogged her mind, and such fear possessed her heart, that her words, burst into a 'slud of tears, and the warm blood seemed to issue from every vain of her body, that with their abundance, she bedeawed the bed where she lay.  
When she had wept her fountains dry, she then began to accuss herself of folly, that would not stay in the place where he left her: then a certain persuasion entered her heart, that he was dead which took such deep root, that of a long time no other thought would take place, which made her think the Tapers which gave her light, burnt blue: which likewise added a further settled resolve in her fancy, that it was so indeed. In this careful estate, she lay tumbling and tossing herself, giving no qui●t to her mind: no rest to her cares: no ease to her pensive heart: no respite to her senses, nor sleep to her head but being overcome with sorrow, she continually rather augmented then diminished the same.  
In this sad and heavy estate she s●ent the night, not suffering her eyes once to slumber. In the morning the two gentlewomen came to her again, offering her all dutiful service which she kindly accepted. And shortly after came Archas counterfeiting a sad countenance, with his eyes cast down to the earth: whom when Violetta beheld, a sudden fear infused itself into every part of her body, and she stood shaking and quaking like one transformed, to hear the news he had brought, which she thought to be but bad by his look: who with a shameless face, and impudent dissimulation, told her that Pollipus was not yet returned to the Court, nor heard of, but all supposed him to be dead. Which words struck such grief to her heart, that there she fell down at his feet in a trance: but when by their industry she came to herself again, her amazed countenance, and lamentable groans, made the tears trickle down her cheeks, and seeing her in that dangerous estate, conveyed her to her bed, whose vital senses were so abated and extinguished, that for a long time, notwithstanding their uttermost endeavours she seemed no otherwise, then as one quite bereft of sense, and in that lamentable estate she continued many days.  
Pollipus all that night ranged up and down the wood, in every corner, searching each thicket and unfrequented place, calling Violetta by name, and tearing both his flesh and apparel, with the bushes and brambles, that encountered his mad steps: sometimes making haste this way, then returning back with persuasion that he heard her shriek behind him, being so fully possessed with fear and desire to find her, that every fancy that rose in his brain, altered his former thoughts: that whereas in other men's afflictions he seemed most patiented and provident, by his own he was quite bereft of reason. In this unquiet sort he spent the most part of the night, until towards morning, what with weariness and care that oppressed his heart, he laid him down, leaning upon his elbow, neither uttering word nor tear, but inwardly stuffed with extreme vexation, seeming no other than the form and picture of discontent. But when he saw Phoebus ●isplay his brightness, he again betook himself to his earnest search, uttering such inward groans, as would have melted a rocky heart into liquid tears.  
Parismus b●ing early up that morning, gave commandment to all the Bohemian knights to arm themselves, and to post throughout al● Bohemia in her search, and to make proclamations, with great promises of reward to them that could bring any news of Violetta: that by time the Sun was up, there were a great number of knights departed, dowing to search all places to find her, that all the whole country was filled with report of her loss.  
Parismus, Tellamor, Barzillus, presently road to the wood to Pollipus, whom they found in such heavy plight, as it made their manlike hearts to melt with grief. But Pollipus espying them, would have fled from their ●●ght, that loved him most dearly, until Parismus overtook him, and said: Most dear friend, how can you be so unkind, as to shun my company, whose care is no less than yours? and who tendeth your welfare as much as mine own? have you forgotten manhood, knighthood and courtesy? where is that virtue now become, that was wont to rule your affections? good Pollipus, for my sake, for all the friendship, by all the courtesies, promises, and good will, that ever past betwixt us, leave off this desperate folly, and listen to my counsel: ●● not for all this, yet for Violetta's sake pity yourself, and recall your former senses, and let us determine how to recover her, that is but strayed out of the way: many hundred knights are already posted into most places of this country, and will coast all Germany throughout, but they will find her: then do not you increase our further care, by this desperate sorrow, but according to your wont wisdom, wherewith you have counseled me in my afflictions, let us study how to recover this misery.  
Oh my Lord (quoth Pollipus) my Violetta is dead, at which word, extreme hearts sorrow, and inward grief, stopped the passage of his speech, and was restrained with heart-swelling sighs, which being a little assuaged, he again said: If I were sure she were not dead, then would I willingly imitate your direction: or were I but sure death had seized upon her tender heart, then would I never part from this place, though millions of devils should seek to drive me hence.  
Why (quoth Parismus) how can you think she is dead, when there is no likehood, sign, nor mention to be seen thereof: neither her apparel nor any part of her body torn▪ or any other circumstance to persuade us to any such conceit? then why will you suffer any such persuasions to possess your fancy? Quoth Pollipus, how then came the scarf so torn? it may be the wild beasts have some secret dens, whereinto they have drawn her body, and many other mischances befallen her, that she was subject unto, and yet still be hidden from our knowledge: neither let that trouble you (quoth Parismus) but rest contented, and your care that way shall soon be cased: but ●epart with me to the Court, to comfort yourself with some food, and I will presently give order to have this wood so thoroughly searched, that you shall plainly find she hath not miscarried.  
Pollipus with his persuasions, though unwillingly, went back with them, mounting on Tellamors horse, for that he was sore travailed and weary of that disquiet nights trouble.  
Thus for a time we will leave Pollipus returned to the Court with Parismus, Violetta very sick and weak in Archas Castle, and many of the Bohemian and Thessalian Knights in her search, to turn my senses to write of an other Subject, long time buried in forgetfulness, the chiefest subject of whereon this History dependeth.   

CHAP. III. How Parismenos was brought up in the Island of Rocks in Tartary. How his nurse was slain by a Lyon. How he lived many years like a wild man, and afterwards arrived at Andramarts Castle.  
AT such time as Laurana was imprisoned in the Island of Rocks, under the government of Adamasia Andramarts sister (as is declared in the first part of this History, the nurse unto whose custody the young child Parismenos was committed, fearing his untimely death, which Adamasia threaned, because his mother would not consent to Andramarts lust, secretly (to save the child from her cruelty) fled by fight into a desolate wood, where she carefully educated him according to the condition of the place, which was with such wild fruit as she gathered, making many a hard shift to staunch her hunger, and defend the sweet babe from famine, until at length, hearing of Andramarts death, she determined to return to the Castle, and there present him to his mother: and to that intent, forsaking her poor habitation she went as she thought, thitherwards but most unfortunately, wandered into a desolate and unfrequented Wilderness: where she had not long stayed, but met a fierce and cruel Lion, who slew her: which when Parismenos beheld, notwithstanding his infancy, he laboured with his weak resistance to preserve her: but the Lion refusing to hurt him, withdrew himself to his den, whither Parismenos boldly pursued him: and being entered therein, the Lion began to wag his tail, and fawn upon him gently, which made him marvel why he had slain his nurse, and would not hurt him: and made him the more bold, that being weary with travel, he laid himself down to sleep, and when he awoke, being very hungry, he gathered wild fruit, whereof there was plenty, which was his food, and the clear water his drink. This was his habitation a long time, taking great pleasure to hunt and chase the wild beasts, from whose fury he was still preserved by the Lyon. Afterwards when he was grown to riper age, in his sleep he dreamed, that his nurse appeared unto him, willing him to forsake that unfrequented place, and to seek out Andramarts Castle, where he should find people, in whose company he should be brought up.  
When he awaked, he could not tell what to think of his dream, nor what she meant by Andramarts Castle, nor which way to go thither, being therewith drawn into a deep study, but suddenly he espied a young Bear, whose sight made him quite forget his dream, and taking exceeding delight to chase such beasts, he caught up his stafie and followed her, and pursued her so fiercely, that at length he slew her: wherewith he was wandered so far, that getting to the top of a mountain, and looking round about him, he espied the Castle, thinking that was the place his nurse had told him of in his dream, that he went thitherwards. It chanced one of the knights that Parismus had left to keep the Castle, espied him: and being of a sad disposition, seeing Parismenos begin to withdraw himselfr, ran to him, and offered to lay hands on him. But Parismenos being afraid of his behaviour, struck at him with his staff so fiercely, that had he not quickly avoided his blow, he had beaten out his brains. The Tartarian being angry, drew his sword, and therewith wounded Parismenos in the thigh, the smart whereof so enraged him, that notwithstanding all his resistance, he left him for dead.  
Afterwards entering the Castle, his wind was drawn into an exceeding delight, to behold the goodly buildings and beauty thereof. The Tartarians beholding one in such strange disguise, (for he was clad in the skins of such beasts as he had slain, and his hair grown to a great length) much marveled how he came into that countri●: withal, noting his comely parsonage and stately countenance, were suddenly drawn into a great affection towards him, that they saluted him most kindly, demanding the cause of his arrival in that place, and of whence he was? who seeing their behaviour to be more gentle than the others with whom he had encountered before, made answer so well as he could, that he knew not: which blunt answer of his, made them muse. Withal, noting his attire, they took him either to be a madman, or that he had been Savagely brought up: which they were the rather persuaded unto, for that he was very young. Notwithstanding, they entertained him, and used him most kindly. But his countenance, calling to remembrance, the noble Knight Parismus, whom he so much resembled, that they were half persuaded he was his son, that the nurse fled withal. One amongst the rest named Tyresus, used him most kindly, appareled him decently, and instructed him in all points belonging to cruelty: teaching him to manage a horse, and use armour, whereunto he was so apt, and took therein such delight, that in short space, he grew to such perfection, that he excelled his instructor in all warlike behaviours. And was so generally beloved, that nothing they had o● could devise, was too dear for him.  
Many days remained Parismenos amongst the Tartarians, increasing in many excellent qualities, not finding occasions enough amongst them to make trial of his manhood. Upon a time, certain Pirates returning from sea, in his hearing, made report of their battles & skirmishes, and the huge slaughters they had made: reporting how tragically they murdered some of the resistance, and how valiantly some withstood them, and with what travel they endured the ●●ght. Making particular rehearsal of one Captain amongst the rest, who so valiantly withstood them, that before they could vanquish him, he had slain above twenty of them: but in the end, seeing that by reason of their multitude, he must needs either be taken prisoner, or die, he rather chose an honourable death, then to become their captive, and endured the fight, until with faintness he fell down dead, even as he was advancing his sword to resist them. Which report of theirs, kindled such honourable sparks in Parismenos breast, that he extremely thirsted to see those brave skirmishes, accounting it dishonourable for him to spend his days in that obscure plate: his thoughts still aiming at higher matters, and his fancy persuading him, that he should rather so and his time in heroical exercises in Kings courts, then in that unfrequented place, where no pleasing attempt of martial deeds was exercised: which thoughts took such effect, that he presently determined to seek adventures abroad: and coming to Tyresus (who loved him deately ●he told him his whole intent, ask his advise therein.  
Tyresus seeing such resolved valour in him, told him, that he was both ready and willing to do any thing that might agree to his fancy, or purchase his content: that if he desired to travail and hazard himself by sea, he was ready to go with him: or if he were determined to seek strange adventures by land, he would likewise travail with him, and forsake no peril for his sake.  
Parismenos hearing his courteous reply, could not choose but embrace him, yielding him many thanks. Tyresius effected all things with such speed, and so well ordered his affairs to further his intent, that within few days they departed into a ship, well manned and victualled, ho●sing their sails, with a merry gale, committed themselves to the mercies of the seas. They sailed many days without any adventure, which inwardly fretted Parismenos, for his mind longed to perform some exploit. At last they kenned a sail a far off, and towards it they stirred amain: and coming nigh the ship, laid her aboard, which was of Barbaria, well manner with stout Moors: who seeing the Pirates, and knowing, that either they must resolutely fight it out, or become captives, valiantly resisted them: between whom, began a most fierce & cruel fight: where Parismenos had means enough to exercise his valour, who behaved himself with such courage, that many Moors that day lost their lived by his infant blows.  
Egradam Captain of the Moors, being a man of exceeding courage, seeing the cruel slaughter Parismenos made, came to him, and uttered these speeches. Proud Pirate, thou shalt dearly buy these Moors lives, for I am determined to bring thy cursed life to an end, that thinkest by robbery to enrich thyself. Wherewith he assailed him so fiercely, that he wounded him in many places: notwithstanding, such was his valour, that with great force he likewise so valiantly defended himself, and offending Egradam, that it was doubtful which of them would have the conquest. In midst of this cru●l fight, a mighty storm began suddenly to arise, and the winds began to blow with violence, that their Cables burst and both light of day and Sun was shadowed by thick Clouds, the seas began to rage and swell that they were enforced to give over their fight, the thunders roared, and the lightnings flashed about their ears, and their ship with violence of the surging seas was so test, that there was none but expected present death. The Northern blast, rend their sails, one way goeth their Helm, an other way swimmeth their mast, with violence torn from their ship, & wave upon wave rushed in, ready to overturn the ship, who now tossing upon the seas at liberty, was driven upon a flinty rock and split in sunder. Then began a hideous cry amongst the soldiers, some cursing Parismenos the causer of that journey, some exclaiming on Tyresus, and some banning their own destinies. Some whelmed under the gaping water, yield up their ghosts: here three at once are cast upon the rocks, and again devoured by the waves: there others ●unke in the quick sands, and dawn falls the Master headlong: then might you behold men swim in their armour: here and there striving to make their death tedious: there might you see one seated upon a plank, overthrown with a wane: here another tumbling with his heels upward. Parismenos (by good fortune) was gotten up to the mast, whose length had some power to endure the waves, with his sword still drawn in his hand. Tyresus he was gotten on to a chest, wherewith a while he applied himself from drowning, but in the end, the raging waves drenched him deep in their spations gulfs. Within a while the raging seas begun to cease and beware calm, the sun began to shine, and the clouds to vanish that darkened the skies, and the mast whereon Parismenos sat, began to slide along with the calm tide: when he looked about him, and espied all his fellows drowned, an exceeding sorrow overwhelmed his heart, especially for his loving friend Tyresus, that had not the fear he was in revived his senses, he would have waxed careless of his own life. But the remembrance of his peril made him recall his better senses to their former use, and to study for his own safety, to whom the seas were so merciful, that with a gentle and calm tide he was driven to shore, where getting to a sunny bank, he sat him down to refresh his wearied limbs, and ponder his happy escape from drowning, drying his gaping wounds with such linen as he had above him, who with the salt water smarted exceedingly.   

CHAP. FOUR How Parismenos being cast on shore in Trace, was taken up by Duke Amasenus, who named him the knight of Fame: of two compats he fought with Corus and Argalus.  
AS Parismenos was sitting upon the bank after his shipwreck, in heavy estate for the loss of his dear friend Tyresus, it happened, an ancient Duke of Thrace, named Amasenus, that day was come into a forest adjoining to the sea to hunt, accompanied by a gallant troop of Knight, who sheltering himself from the storm under the craggy 〈◊〉, behold the miserable shipwreck, and saw Parismenos swim to shore, and so strangely preserved from drowning, unto whom he came as he was sitting upon a sunny bank, and demanded of whence he was. Parismenos beholding his reverend age, and the troop of Knights that attended him, ●ose from the ground, and with great humility bowed his body, making this answer. I am a miserable man, by cruelly of the seas cast on this shors, having lost my faithful friend, drenched in the spacious gulfs, being myself reserved to further miseries, my name is hidden from myself, neither know I certainly in what country I was borne, nor where my Parents remain, and now am cast into an unknown place, and miserably left to the wide world, to endure such hard fortune as my unlucky stars have allotted me.  
Amasenus hearing his answer, and withal, noting his fall and comely proportion and beautiful countenance, thought by his speech that his senses were altered with fear of them tempest, and care for she loss of his friends, that he thus replied. I perceive fear of drowning hath made you forget both yourself, your name, and country which fear now sh●ke off, si●ce all the peril is past, and leave to grieve for their lost that are irrecoverable, and go with me to my Castle, and to such entertainment as the same yieldeth, you shall be welcome. I most humbly thank you (quoth he) for this kindness, but whereas you think, that fear hath made me forget myself, you altogether aim amiss, for I have reported of myself nothing but truth. Then stepped forth Corus (asuspitious and anurous Knight) my Lord (quoth he) it is some Pirate that liveth by spoil of passengers, and hath heretofore done you some mischief, which maketh him thus cunningly dissemble.  
Parismenos hearing his speeches could not contain himself but made this answer. Most discourteous Knight, neither thyself, nor any in this country whatsoever, shall make me dist●ble, or once falsify my word, and were it not that the strangers of this place, and the reverence I bear to this courteous Lord, withholdest we, I would even presently make thee eat that word, & turn it back into thy dishonourable throat, Corus being a Knight of a proud courage, was so vexed with that reply, that he entreated Amasenus to give him leave to revenge those injurious words. Say quoth Amasenus, and leave off this discourteous behaviour to strangers, here is neither place nor time, for you see he is wearied with shipwreck, and faint with effusion of blood: thy pride and discourteous behaviour will one day be thy death: had he done me wrong, yet he hath not offended thee. Then he said to Parismenos: Sir Knight, I pray cease this discontent, and go to my Castle, for so well do I esteem of you, and so far am I from the least suppose of any such thought, as myself will undertake his accusation is false. So they departed together. Parismenos by the way, so well as he could declared his birth, which made Amasenus make greater estimation of him, for by all tokens he thought he should be sprung of kingly race, that Amasenus entertained him most honourably and kindly, and welcomed him in the best sort he could devise, which made him disdained amongst many of the knights that attended the Duke, and seeing him so highly esteemed, began to suspect by that means, that they were but slightly accounted of by Amasenus, that ever after that, they began to envy him, and to consult which way to do them a mischief: thinking Corus' quarrel already begun, a fit occasion to further their intent, they urged him to prosecute the same, who being ready of himself, and the rather by their instigation, sent him this challenge.  
Knight (for so I must call thee) thou remember'st what past betwixt us at our first meeting, which thou thinkest I have forgot, but so far is it from my thou●ht ', as courage is from thee to perform that which thou threatnedst: thy fear of drowning is now, and thy deep wounds I am sure well cured, therefore if thou darest maintain the words thou hast spoken in my disgrace, send me word where I shall meet thee, and there we will end the controversy. So farewell.  
As thou wilt, Corus.  
Parismenos having read this brave challenge, smiling thereat, sent this reply.  
Corus', by the name of the unknown Knight, I will answers thee, and maintain my words, wishing thee to be persuaded, that I so littlle fear thy vaunts, as that even now I will come to thee, or when thou wilt, if not now. But if thou intendest to avouch this challenge, thou shalt find me ready for thee at the South side of my Lord Amasenus park. And so adve.  
The King of Fame.  
Corus' having received this reply, presently went and armed himself, and came to the appointed place, where he found the Knight of Fame gallantly mounted, staying for him whom he little esteemed, as that he assured himself the conquest before the begun: for Parismenos was young and of tender years, and nothing comparable to him in growth nor skill, netwithstanding, of such undaunted resolve, that he would not have refused to cope with him, had he been another Hercules. Corus' seeing him in that readiness, came to him, uttering these speeches Knight, I like well thy forwardness, and commend thy resolution, but by that time thou departest hence, thou wilt repent thy folly.  
Parismenos thus answered, if I repent me, the worst will be mine, but if I aim not amiss, thy folly will be the greatest: for know, that I so lightly esteemed thy speeches, that I account them ridiculous, and this time spent in prate too tedious. With that Coras went back, and Parismenos retired himself to take their career, which was performed so gallantly, as that they shivered their lances, passing by without any other harm, presently drawing their keen swords, beginning fight with gallant bravery, sometimes offending, and sometimes defending, which continued so long, until their armour began to yield to their fierce blows, and the blood to issue out at many places. In which cruel rage they continued for an hours space, without any disadvantage on either party, sometimes taking breath, and then again redoubling their blows with fresh courage, that Corus' fretting at his enemy's v●lour, and calling to mind his former speeches, struck so mighty a blow at him, that with the force thereof, he made him stagger, which turned Parismevos senses into such fury, that advancing himself in his stirropes, he struck Corus so full and so valiantly on the Crest, that he was astonish therewith: yet notwithstanding with quick courage soon recovered his memory again, prosecuting his blows with great fortitude, until that both their armour and steeds began to be coloured with the purple blood that issued from their wounds: both of them waxing faint, yet neither willing to yield. Sometimes the one driving his enemy to retire, and he again returning with new courage. But Parismenos being the nimbler of body, warded many of Corus' blows, and in the end wounded him so sore, that he began to stagger too and ●ro, to save himself from his fury, who still pursued him with such violence, that Corus with faintness fell on his horse neck: which he espying, was lifting his sword to fetch a fresh blow to end his life, but that he heard one call to him to stay, and looking back, saw that it was Amasenus: who missing him, being told that he departed from the Castle in Armour followed him to the place, and had all that while stayed covertly and beheld the combat, and seeing the danger Corus' was in, desired Parismenos to spare his life, who according to his request desisted. Amasenus then caused his Knights to take up Corus fallen from his horse in a trance, who receiving fresh air, came to himself again: but when he saw the Duke present, and his enemy still mounted and in a good estate, his heart was ready to burst with inward grief, which malicious ranckour filled up all his senses, that cursing himself and his ill fortune, he yielded up his fainting ghost Farewell (quoth Amasenus) the most proud and discorteous Knight that ever lived in Thrace, thy in●olence and malicious discontented envy, hath wrought thine own down f●ll. And most noble Knight (quoth he) to Parismenos I both honour your valour, and applaud your victory, wherein you have behaved yourself so valiantly, as I shall for ever love you: and since you remain victor, I pray return with me to have your wounds cured. Parismenos humbly thanking him departed: and the rest of Amasenus Knights took up Corsus body, which afterwards they buried with great sosemnitie. After Corsus death the Knights that envied Parismenos, now began to imagine assu●redly, that the Knight would darken all their glories, and the more account they saw the D. make of him, the more their malicious envy increased, that they deu●sed all the means they could to contrive her death, w●●●soever ensued thereon waiting all opportunities. But he 〈◊〉 his wounds fully cured, forsook his chamber and betook himself again to his wont exercises, which was, sometimes to manage ●●e sturdy steed, and sometimes to sport himself (in company o● his unknown enemies) amongst the Ladies and Gentlewomen, who liked his behaviour and courtesy so well, besides his come●y proportion, the sweet youth so greatly pleased their fancies, that they accounted the Thracian Knights rude in respect o●, him, all both liking, loving, and commending him, and that so openly▪ that his enemies might hear their speeches, which wrought such a violent effect of rancour, that no thought could harbour in their breasts, but tragical devices to work his downfall. One amongst the rest near kinsman to Corus, named Argalus, was forwardest in this exploit, who to further his intent with one Themides, dissembling a friendly countenance, insinuated themselves into his familiarity, using such kind behaviour towards him, and entertaining his company with such courtesy, that (he having no insight into their dissimulation) began to make account of their friendship, and to take delight in their company, oftentimes imparting his secrets unto them, and without suspicion, making them privy to most of his actions.  
Argalus upon a time came to Parismenos, telling him that a squire of his had found a mighty wild Boar, and could bring them to his den; desiring his company to go with them to hunt him. Parismenos hearing that, was as forward as any of them, and the next morning appointed to meet them in the midst of the Forest, at the Pools side. And early the next morning he got up, according to his appointment, being ready to departed his chamber, some five or six drops of blood suddenly fell from his nose, with which he started, and staying, felt a sudden drowsy heaviness and throbbing, possess his heart, which drove him into a deep study what should be the cause of that unwonted passion: at last he began to think with himself, May not these few drops of blood divine some bad success to my enterprise this day? I am here in a strange Country, amongst such as I know not how to trust, for I see apparently many of them do envy me, which they manifest by their lowering countenances, and Corus' behaviour may be a pattern of their dispositions: therefore I were best not to go at all. Then again he began to think, Argalus and Themides are my friends, than what need I fear any mishap? All which doubts would not stay him, but arming himself, and resolving to endure all mischances, be departed towards the Pool. By the way as he road, he met a damsel posting towards him with great speed, wring her hands, and making gre●t lamentation. Parismenos marveling at her sorrow, asked the cause of her complaint. Sir knight (quoth she) I was going to Duke Aamsenus court, carrying a present, and a letter from my mistress, unto a strange knight that lately arrived there: but by that way, I met with two knights in green Armour, who despoiled me thereof, and most disloyally effered to abuse me, had I not fled▪ Damsel (quoth he) bring me if you can where they are, and I will do my best to cause them make you restitution. Wherewith the Damiell turned her horse, and road back again. Sir Knight (quoth she) they took down this narrow Lane. Parismenos set spurs to his horse, and with great speed road that way. He was not far entered, but he espied the two knights in green Armour, ready mounted, staying in a pleasant valley, encompassed round with woods, unto whom he thus said: Is it the manner of you Thracians, to offer violence to silly Damsels? Render me those things you have taken ●●om her, or I protest I will not lean you, until I have compelled you to doit by force. Unto whom one of them replied: If thyself art no Thracian, what dost thou here? or what interest hast thou in that Damsels quarrel, that maketh thee so bold to control our doings? That interest I have (quoth he) as all knights should have, which is to succour distressed Damsels: wherewith turning back to take scope for his race, he ran at one of them, and at the encounter, overthrew him backwards, who by mischance in the fall, burst one of his arms. The other seeing his fellows mischance, assailed Parismenos with his sword drawn: whom Parismevos so overlaid with fierce blows, and wounded so grievously, that he fearing his death, and seeing no other come to his rescue, was ready to yield. Even at that instant another Knight came,▪ who seeing one of them dead▪ and the other in great danger, ran at Parismenos, with in●ent unawares to pierce his spear through his body: But he hearing the noise of his horse feet behind him, nimbly spur● his horse forwards, by which means the knight lost his course, passing by without doing him any harm. Parismenos looking about him, and espying two enemies more, and missing the Damsel that had brought him thither, began to suspect some treachery: which thoughts, and the remembrance of the drops of blood the fell from him that morning, added new courage to his valour, that reaching a curious blow at the wounded knight, the sword lighting on a broken place in the armour, rushed into his body, and ended his life. By which time the two knights lately come, assailed him both at once, between whom began a most cruel and dangerous fight, that all the earth was coloured with the blood that issued from their wounds: and notwithstanding Parismenos was before sore wounded, yet he defended himself so courageously, that his new come enemies could not endanger him, but with their own disadvantage, who seeing his valour, and calling to mind Corus' death, forsook knightly chi●alty▪ and used all villainous & cowardly fight, the one sometimes behind him offering him a thrust, & when he turned to revenge that int●r●ous ●éed, the other did the like, that he perceived they intended to murder him, which so enraged that gallant knight, that dashing his spurs into his trusty steeds sides, he rushed with such violence against one of them, that he bore him quite out of his saddle, whose foot still hung in his sturrop, and his horse dragged him with violence up & down the field, until the stirrup burst, and he lay dead & dismounted. The other knight seeing his ●rie●●s misfortune, would have ●led, but Parismenos struck such a violent bl●w upon his head, that he lost his senses, but soon recovering himself again, & thinking it better to die by his enemy's sword, then to yield ●o his mercy, turned to Parismenos, uttering these speeches. Knight if thou art well give over, otherwise know, that notwithstanding my former show of fight, it is the least part of my thought: but I intent ●o try it out with thee to the v●●comost. Quoth he again, no dissembling Thracian, account not me so base minded to leave such a villain to breathe any longer, that art not worthy of knighthood, much less to be esteemed amongst men: was it thy policy by subtlety ●o be trey my life? If I be not deceived, I know thee by thy voice, and thy name is Arga●us, my counterfeited friend. Am I the Bore thou intendest to slay? No traitor Thracian, do not think me so simple, but I perceive thy treachery, and well understand thy drifts, nor do thou think to escape my hands. This Knight indeed was Argalus, who hearing his words, was so overcome with rage, that marking where his Armour was most broken, he gave him such a violent thrust, that the purple blood followed his keen sword: which wound was more deadly than all that he had before received, that bending all his forces to revenge the same, he smote so fiercely and nimbly at Argalus, that in the end with many grievous wounds, he beat him from his horse, and lighting, pulled off his helmit and knew him: with that he said, Argalus, what offence have I done thee, that thou shouldest seek my death? or wherein did I ever merit other than friendship at thy hands? most unkind dissembler, thou shalt receive a fit reward for thy villainy, wherewith, feeling the smart of the wound he had lately given him oppress his heart, he thrust his sword into his body, which ended his ●●●e, and sat down weary with travel, and so saint with ●ffusion of ●ood, that his eyes began to dazzle, and he fell down upon the earth, as one ●erell of sense.  
Amasenus all that day missing the knight of Fame, began to suspect that some other challenge had caused him to departed so secretly, but hearing that Argalus and Themides were in his company, whom he thought loved him dearly, his care was somewhat diminished, but when it grew towards night, and none of them yet returned, he then began vehemently to fear the worst, that calling for his steed, he presently road forth well accompanied, commanding one to post this way, and another that way about the Forest, to seek the Knight of Fame, himself road which way his fancy best persuaded him unto, and by chance (directed by good fortune) be took directly towards the place where the Combat was fought, and as he passed by the narrow Lane that went down the valley, he espied one of the steeds all bestained with blood, wandering without the Rider, which struck a sudden fear to his heart, that riding down that Lane, he espied the dead bodies of mangled knights, lie confusedly scattered upon the earth, with ghastly countenances, being the fearfullest spectacle that ever eye beheld. The first that he beheld was Themides, almost torn to pieces by his own steed, with his soot stillin the stirrup. Next he viewed the other two knights so grievously mangled and wounded, that the tears with grief gushed from his eyes in abundance Next he came to Argalus, whose face was uncovered, whom he soon knew. And last of all, he came to Parismenos, who lay groveling with his face to the earth, still grasping his bloody sword in his hand, whom he perceived to gasp for breath, that in all haste lifting up his Beaver to give him fresh air, he knew him to be the knight of Fame, and perceiving some life yet to remain in him, he unarmed him with his own hands and gently wrapped him up close, that his wounds might not take air, causing him to be carried to his Castle. The rest of the dead knights he likewise caused to be carried back, which was done with great lamentations, and afterwards by his appointment were honourably buried.   

CHAP. III. How the Knights returned without any news of Violetta. Of the sorrows Pollipus made for her absence, departing in her search. How Violetta having endured many miseries in Archas Castle, at last escaped from thence in sorana's disguise.  
THe Bohemian Knights, by commandment of Parismus, and the Thessalian knights, for the affection they bore to Violetta, having posted through every part of Bohemia, and made all diligent search, leaving no place unsought, no means unattempted, nor labour unperformed to find her: yet notwithstanding all their faithful diligence, at last returned without any news of her at all: which renewed Pollipus sorrows afresh, that but even then had entertained a little quiet by Parismus persuasions. But when he saw Violetta was by no means to be heard of, nor any likelihood or comfort left for him ever to see her again: neither knowing nor any way supposing what should be become of her, his heart was so inwardly overcome with troublesome cogitations and doubtful cares, that he could neither resolve to seek her, nor take any course to ease his mind: but rested like one utterly given over, to forlorn and careless misery, daily frequenting those solitary walks where he left her, and hourly renewing his sorrows, by the sad remembrance of her absence, uttering such mournful plaints and sad lamentations, that the birds that haunted those unfrequented places, seemed to mourn and lament with him. Sometimes accusing himself of negligence, to leave her, to pursue the Bear, blaming her that would not stay his return, and then again, fretting his heart for accusing her. Sometimes thinking she was dead, and then again persuading himself she was alive, then musing why she did not return to him if she were alive: that by contrarieties of doubts, he could add no ease to his cares, nor rest to his heart, at last he determined to search throughout all Germany and Greece, but he would find her: for he assuredly thought she was not dead, being thereto induced, for that he could not find no likelihood thereof, being persuaded by Parismus, that some discourteous knight had met with her, and so withheld her return: that within few days (arming himself in a green armour, which he made of purpose, bearing this device; A knight pursuing a wild Bear) he left the Bohemian Court, making none privy to his departure but Parismus, (who determined not to stay long behind him) whom we will leave onwards of his journey, and speak of Violetta, whom we left weak in Archas Castle.  
Assoon as the two gentlewomen had conveyed her to her bed, with the comfortable means they used, she began to be somewhat revived, and calling her senses to their wont uses, began to make such doleful lamentations, that no heart was able to endure to hear them, without effusion of tears: oftentimes offering to do herself violence, but that she was hindered by the two gentlewomen: especially one of them named Sorana, was so careful over her, that she left not so much as a pin about her, wherewith she might do herself harm: but when some three days were passed, and the extremity of her desperate passion somewhat calmed, she began to desire that Archas would convey her to the Bohemian Court: if not to find Pollipus, yet to enjoy the comfortable presence of Parismus and Laurana: but notwithstanding her manifold entreaties, they used some excuses or other, to frustrate her expectation, telling her that it was dangerous for her to travel yet, by reason of her late sickness, and that since it was certain Pollipus was no more to be enjoyed, she might stay with them some few days, until she were better able to endure so long a journey: for that the Bohemian Court was not so near as she thought. Which excuses, rather increased her desire, and the more she seemed desirous to go thither, the more they defrauded her by excuses many days. In which time, she being endued with an extraordinary wisdom, having well weighed each circumstance of her bringing thither, and their frivolous excuses to detain her there: and withal, noting their behaviours and speeches, began to suspect Archas dissimulation: to find out the truth thereof, she began (contrary to her inward thoughts) to frame a chéerfuller countenance, and comfortabler disposition, thereby to feel their intents, which wrought such effect, that within a while Archas would o●ten frequent her company, and in the end proffered love to her, using her most kindly, carefully and tenderly, seeming above all things to regard her quiet and content, whose speeches she endured quietly, and took in good part (as he thought) that upon a time, amongst many speeches, taking her by the hand, he said.  
Most beautiful Lady, I have ever since the first view of those excellent beauties, been tormented with the passions of entire love, that I could take no quiet, but in the sweet remembrance of your perfections, which have bound my devotions to your service, in such firm and constant leagues, that my resolution is, to spend my life (if it were a thousand times dearer to me than it is) only to procure your content: therefore thus boldly I presume to reveal my affections, trusting your clemency will add some ease to my careful heart, by showing some courteous sign of your favourable acceptance of my humble suit: and though my merit hath no way deserved such favour, yet I beseech you, make trial of my loyalty, and you shall find I will be inferior to none in good will, nor violate myprotested loyalty in any undutiful respect. I have the boldlier presumed to detain you here, because with your absence my life would departed: then construe not amiss of that true love and sincere affection which hath caused me to offend in, but no offence at all, if you vouchsafe not to take it so: here shall you enjoy you fill of content, in as ample sort as any other place can yield: then I beseech you grant some ease to my troubled heart, and by your clemency release me of those cares that possess my breast, only procured by the piercing dart of your sacred beauty. Which words being ended, he offered to have kissed her, but she gently refusing the same, made this reply.  
Sir knight, my sorrows will not suffer me to believe your speeches, nor my late loss, permit me to entertain your love: for than might you esteem me light, and so lightly won, as little regard me: but to put you out of suspense, my resolution is, never to love any but my dear Pollipus: wherewith the Crystal tears with a violent passage, fell from her grief swollen eyeballs.  
That grief quoth he, is remediless: therefore banish the sad remembrance thereof from your heart, and entertain a persuasion of my constancy, and true affection, which shall everlastingly remain inviolable, without intermission.  
How can I (quoth she) in conscience, and without everlasting stain to my honour, when I have neither performed his funeral, nor showed any token of duty to his dead corpses, who loved me most dearly in his life time. But show me this favour, as to let me but return to the Court to bewail his death, and a while enjoy my dear friends company, and I promise and protest next Pollipus, to love none but yourself.  
Archas hearing her reasonable demand, stood like one amazed, not knowing what answer to make her, thinking that if he should deny her that request being so small, she might think his love but slender: and if he should promise her, and not perform it, that might be a means to breed a suspicion in her, that his reports to her were false: that he stood musing a great while confounded in his thoughts, what to devise for a ready aunwere.  
Nay study not so for that (quoth Violetta) but answer me another time. Which said, she withdrew herself unto her chamber, where she began to meditate of his speeches, and how he was astonished, when she requested him to convey her to the court, which drove her into many cogitations, when presently one of the gentlewomen came to her, whom she used most kindiy, and of purpose to féel● her mind, grew into familiar conference with her: & amongst many other speeches (quoth she) I pray tell me what Archas hath reported unto you, concerning Pollipus, for he seemeth unwilling to v●ter his mind unto me. He told me nothing quoth she. Which words came from her with such stuttering, and change of countenance, that Violetta began to suspect, that Archas had all that while dissembled with her, and that Pollipus (contrary to his report) was yet living. And when Sorana came, she likewise felt her mind, of whom she gathered some probability: and likewise, when she next came into Archas company, she asked him so many questions, that she found many contrarieties in his speeches, which settled such a persuasive opinion in her mind, that Archas report of Pollipus was untrue, that she rested greatly comforted that way, but yet in great care, cogitating what he would suppose was become of her, how she should get out of that place, or give him knowledge of her being there, and avoid Archas odious love, which seemed as deadly to her heart as infectious venom.  
Archas still prosecuted his suit with great earnestness, making many frivolous excuses to withhold her from the Bohemian court, growing into such boldness, that oftentimes when she refused his offered embracings and impudent behaviours, he would by force kiss her, and sold her in his arms, which rudeness, he so often used, that she began so extremely to abhor him, that his sight was most odious unto her.  
Oftentimes Violetta did walk into a pleasant Orchard adjoining to the Castle, as well to recreate her dulled senses in those pleasant shades, as in solitariness to recount her miseries, and ease her careful heart by inventing means how to rid herself from forth that labyrinth of sorrow, and also to avoid Archas odious sight, who inwardly lusted to satisfy his inordinate appetite, by obtaining the fruition of her delicate body: and though he knew Pollipus were living, and heard the moans and sorrowful complaints Violetta made, able to extenuate any tyrannous disposition, yet he persisted in his devilish resolution, with such impudence, that neither regarding her complaints, nor the laws of nature, he still sought all disloyal opportunities to dishonour her. And on a time, marking when she went into the Orchard, as she was wont, in midst of her silent cogitations, he came to the place where she sat, (whose heart began to pant with a kind of fear, when she beheld him) and coming unto her, seating himself close by her sweet side, he uttered these speeches.  
You know dear Lady, how long I have sued to obtain your love, being thereto compelled by the extremities of loves everlasting flame, which boileth in my troubled breast, but hitherto you have obdurated your heart against me, and not vouchsafed to yield any pity to my distress, but contrary to the kind nature that should abound in you, seem not at all to regard my passions, which hath added sorrow to my torment. Now sweet Lady, seeing with what denotions I have attended your pleasure, defer me no longer, but let me obtain that faoour, which with such care I have expected, and you so unkindly withheld: which would both ease my comfortless heart, and add no small content to the remediless sorrows you so impatiently endure.  
Violetta hearing his speeches, made this reply. Sir, I have long since told you my resolution, which might be a sufficient answer to any reasonable creature: beside, my vows passed to my dear knight Pollipus, have bound me from yielding my spotless honour to be stained with the blot of infamy. Then I pray leave off to prosecute your suit, which you ground upon loves foundation, being indeed, nothing but the insatiate desire of filthy concupiscence, the remembrance whereof, addeth new care to my careful heart, and every way affrighteth me with discontent: and if you so much regard my content, as you protest, desist to trouble me with your love, and give me leave to departed from hence, that I may spend the rest of my days in sorrow, for his loss, that was more dear unto me, than all the world's treasure.  
I but Lady quoth Archas, calm this discontent with remembrance of an impossibility in obtaining aught at his hands, and go not about to consume those heavenly perfections with sorrow, & seem not stranger than reason requireth, to him that loveth you as well as Pollipus ever did: and now that occasion hath so fitly offered the sweet opportunity of time and place, let us spend this time in love, and not in these contentions: these unfrequented paths add means to further our joys: here are no eyes to behold us, nor any to bewray our secrets, but the silent trees & sweet smelling flowers: & that which is unknown, is in a manner uncommitted: and in requital of your kindness, I will perform whatsoever you shall command me, were it to run through thousands of deaths, to procure your content: them sweet love be not so unkind, but yield some pity to my restless cares, and detain not from me that pleasant delight, which will extinguish my bitter griefs. When he had ended his speeches, he strictly caught her tender body in his arms, imprinting a compelled kiss upon her tender lips, twining her curled locks about his gross fingers, and beldly fingering her tender breasts, offering other forced behaviour: whilst she strived to untwine her body off his arms, which when she had obtained, casting a disdainful countenance upon him (like as Diana cast upon the woeful Actaeon) with her cheeks as red as scarlet, she uttered these speeches.  
Most discourteous villain, hath my lenity enforced thee to offer me this abuse: or is thy mind so far from piety, as not to desist from prosecuting thy detested lust? know this, that rather than I will yield my honour to be blemished by thy appetite, I will tear these eyes from forth my head, and end my woeful life, which thou soughtest to spill. Is this the friendship thou hast protested? was it thy policy to train me hither to dishonour me? hadst thou left me in the place where I lost my beloved, then had I been happy, if some wild beast had ended my life. I now perceive thy protestations are but filthy actors of thy intended villainy, and all which thou hast told me of Pollipus death, to be most false and untrue: for no doubt, he is yet living, whom thou seekest to dishonour, by despoiling me of that which I reserved for him. Accursed wretch that I was, to fall into thy odious hands, which art void of knightly behaviour.  
Archas hearing himself thus reviled, abandoned shame and pity, violently pulling her to him: told her, that she should submit herself to his will, offering by force to attain the fruition of her spotless body. When Violetta felt herself so handled, she laboured by all means to disappoint him of his will: but in the end, feeling herself too weak, long to withhold his force, she yielded forth such shrieks, as all the Castle rung with the noise other entry: that Sorana hearing the same, knowing the place where she used, came thitherwards. Archas beholding her, withdrew himself, and Violetta rose from the place, tired with resistance, and swollen with inward vexation and disdain, to be so used, casting her countenance down to the earth: to whom Sorana said: How now Lady, what causeth your sorrow? hath Archas offered you violence? Violetta with tears trickling down her crimzen cheeks, answered: yea, that villain Archas would have done me violence, had not you so fortunately come to my rescue: but I think the divine providence, that hath sent you so happily to preserve me from his devouring lust, whose dishonourable mind is fraught with all villainies: accursed be the day that first brought me to this hateful place, to fall into his loathsome power, that contrary to nature hath done me this outrage. Sweet Sorana (quoth she) convey me secretly into the Castle, that there I may in sorrow end my accursed life: rather than again abide his loathsome sight, which will be as pestilent as deadly poison to my heart. Sorana taking her by the arm to support her weak body, led her to her Chamber. Archas likewise seeing himself so frustrated of his desire, with an impudent and unshamefast countenance, went into the Castle, vowing in his heart never to desist until he had accomplished his desire.  
Violetta being come to her chamber, related to Sorana the whole manner of Archas usage, entreating her counsel which way to avoid his suits, which she knew he would still prosecute: who uttered her mind in this sort. Lady, I pity your estate, but am so far from adding release thereto, as I know no means at all how to comfort you: for Archas disposition I too well know, is far from any spark of honesty, who hath in like sort behaved himself to me at my first coming hither, which was in the prime of my youth: neither give any credit to his reports: for he hath told me that Pollipus is yet living, and long since I suspected he would use you in this sort, and escape from hence you cannot: for this castle is continually guarded, having but one entrance thereto, whereby none can escape undescried: therefore I think it best for you to yield to his love, and then you may live in quiet: otherwise, I know your life will be miserable enough.  
Violetta was stricken into a sudden amazement to hear her detested counsel, thinking to have found some comfort in her speeches: insomuch, that with extremity of passion, she was ready to give up the ghost. Which Sorana beholding, revining her with robbing her pale cheeks, she said, as followeth,  
If you will follow my advise and counsel, I may peradventure ease you in some respect, which is this: That the next time when Archas again solicits his suit, condescend to his request, conditionally, that he will come ●o you in the silent of the night, so secretly that none may know thereof, and that only he satisfy himself with your love without ask questions, or entering into any talk, which may renew the remembrance of your former grief: and when with these conditions you have agreed, myself will supply your room, and thereby safeguard your honour, and satisfy him: which may well be performed, considering that his desire being nothing but lust, he easily will be drawn to condescend to your conditions: which once done, let me alone to execute the rest: for I am so well acquainted with his fashions, that it shall be long before he descry our deceit.  
Violetta hearing the circumstance of her talk, promised to do all things according to her counsel, if she herself meant faithfully. Which Sorana assured her of, by many protestations, and so left her in some comfort, hoping by this means, to be rid from her impudent lover.  
Assoon as Sorana was departed, she presently goeth to Archas, (pri●ked forward with as great a sting of foul lust, as reigned in him) and told him, that she had talked with Violetta about his suit, which she was persuaded she would yield unto, but that she was bashful: and by his speeches, rather hardened, than any way mollified: but (quoth she) try her even now, and whatsoever she bindeth you unto by condition, that promise you to perform: and when you know her mind, tell me what she says, and I may peradventure counsel you what to do for your furtherance: for she is worthy to be beloved and kindly used, and in my judgement, you did amiss to use her so rudely as you did in the Orchard: for forced kindness is not worth estimation, but consent in love breeds the sweetest delight. Archas presently put her counsel in practice, and came to Violetta's chamber (who was then studying how to rid herself from his custody) and very kindly saluted her, craving pardon for his last offence, excusing himself by many reasons, and alleging as many persuasions, that she could not in reason deny his request, his love being grounded upon the truest foundation of perfect constancy, of vows, oaths, and protestations, to dedicate himself, his life, and all that he had to be at her command. Violetta (casting down her eyes to the earth, and with a blushing countenance, to think how much it went against her heart, ●o use him kindly: ask pardon of Pollipus, in her secret thoughts, for doing him that unwilling wrong) at last made answer, that she could in some sort be contented to grant his request, if he would promise to perform what she should enjoin him too, which he vowed and protested to fulfil in every respect. Then she concluded with him as Sorana had counseled her to do, which liked him exceedingly well, & quoth she, for a pledge hereof, give me that ring which you so much esteem, which he gave unto her, and at his departure received from her a gentle kiss, which she wish might prove as deadly poison to his heart, being greatly discontented with herself for showing him that favour.  
Archas presently with a joyful heart went to Sorana, and told her all that had passed betwixt him and Violetta: which ●he willed him in any wise to perform: and seeing she hath bound you from talk, what need you care for speaking, sith you may enjoy what otherwise you desire: and she finding you so willing to condescend to her requests, will be the easiler drawn to yield you any courtesy. Sorana being parted from him, immediately came to Violetta, and told her all that he had made her privy unto, and withal said, that for her sake only she undertook that task, (which was nothing so, but of a most inordinate desire to beastly lust, which Violetta well noted:) and thus they 〈◊〉 the day in much idle talk, until evening drawing nigh, she left Violetta in her chamber, and went unto that sweet bed, which she had neatly dressed for Archas, perfuming herself with many odoriserous waters, devising all means she could to keep herself unknown from him, being affected with great desire for his approach. Assoon as the appointed time was come, Archas secretly conveyed himself in the dark, into Violetta's chamber, without speaking a word, whom when Sorana heard russing upon the rushes, her heart leapt for joy: and she prepared herself to entertain him in the kindest sort, who approaching the bed's side, softly lifting up the clothes, laid himself down by her side, who seemed to shrink thereat, and with such cunning behaved herself, that he ●o whit supposed he embraced his wonted Sorana.  
Violetta being sure of Archas, with all haste attired herself in sorana's apparel, which so well became her, that had Archas himself seen her, he would not have discerned her disguise, & taking with her the ring he had given her, she came to the Gardiants, telling them she must go out about a little business for Archas, and gave them the ring as her warrant to pass by. The Gardiants marveled whither she went so late, yet taking her for no other than Sorana, accepting her warrant, let her departed. Violetta being past the entrance, began to study which way to take, but knowing that the time now yielded no respite to delay, took any way came into her fancy, fittest as she thought for her escape, and with all haste, ar●ing herself with as much courage as could possibly be in a woman, forsaking the mountains, which she thought dangerous for wild beasts, she traveled all that night, sometimes running, and sometimes going, as if Archas had been hard at hand pursuing her, and by that time Phoebus began to illuminate the earth with his brightness, she was gotten a great way from Archas Castle, towards Greece, rejoicing at her happy escape not caring which way she went, so she might get from him: and applauding Soranes' counsel, which had forted to that unexpected issue for her escape.   

CHAP. VI How Pollipus was taken prisoner by the Giant Brandamor, in the Forest of Arde. And of Parismus departure with Tellamor and Barzillus, in search of Violetta.  
AFter that Pollipus was departed from Parismus, he came to the place where he left Violetta, and t●ere uttered these speeches. This is that blessed place where my Love lay last folded in mine arms, whose pre●ence was the solace of my sweet content, whose perfections excelled the rarest gifts of other Ladies, as far as good doth bad, or any virtue his contrary: which way should I take to recover that inestimable jewel of my delight here lost? or whither should I travel to find her, considering I know not whether she be dead or alive?  
D●ad I am pers●●●ed she is not, but by some discourteous Knight withheld from returning, or conveyed far hence unto some unknown place, from whence she cannot send me word, or any way give me knowledge in what estate the remaineth: then what resteth for me to do, but to search the world throughout to find her, and either to recover her to my comfort, or spend my life in that pursuit: and since I undertake a travel, without knowledge which way to take, or whither to convey my st●ppes, sweet Fortune be so favourable, as to guide me in my tranels, that by thy aid I may come to the place of her abode, and attain the fruition of her heavenly presence, who by thy appointment hath fallen into these mischances: and I will for ●uer dedicated my endeavours to thy service, and continually adore thy name. Which words being ended, he mounted himself on his steed, and road the way his fancy first chose, travailing towards the mountains that incompasie Bohemia, but not finding her, being unacquainted in those countries, wandered towards Grecia, & travaled without any more hope to find her, then at the beginning, continuing his travels without intermission, passing many places without any misadventure. At last he came to the great Forest of Ardea, wherein stood the Castle of the mighty Giant Brandamor, the place being invincible, by reason of the situation and strength, whose cruelties committed by him and his brother Argaletus, made him much feared, and his walks eschewed of all men.  
Which Forest Pollipus was no sooner entered, but he espied the bod●e of a goodly Knight, that had lately given up his ghost, lie weltered in his blood, which when he had well viewed, and perceived to be quite past recovery, he marveled what sad adventure had been cause of his death, persuading himself, those that had done the same were not far off that he withdrew himself into a thicket of bushes, where he could not be discerned, to stay until he might descry those that had done that deed.  
He had not been long shrouded there, but he saw a damsel and a squire, coming to the dead knight, with great lamentations, bewailing his untimely death, seeming by their behaviour to be quite overcome with extreme misery.  
After their lamentations ended, they hasted to take up the dead Knight, to whom Pollipus came and demanded what Knight that was, and what misadventure had brought him to that untimely death. The damsel easting her eyes up to him, which before were sadly fixed on the earth, said. Sir Knight, to discover the whole circumstance of our mishap, would ask more respite than the time will now permit: because if we be surprised by our tarriance, we are like to be partners with him in death. This Knight was named Tyrides, son to the noble Duke Amasenus of Thrace, being brought up in the Court of the renowned King of Libya, who bring with the Princess Venola, the kings only daughter on hunting, in the mid●●● of their pastime, she was severed from the rest of her company, and being wet with following the game, alighted in a pleasant valley to cool herself, and lay down on the flowering banks of a sweet burbling brook, where she had not long stayed, but she was surprised by a Giant, who with rude behaviour brought her away: wherewith I being amazed, ran back to this worthy Knight Tyrides, who with me and this Page, pursued him until we came to this place, where this noble Knight charged him to redeliver the Lady to him, who lay panting with extreme fear of her life, under this guard: but the Giant presently set upon this Knight, and in long continuance of terrible fight, slew him, by which time many of her damsels had found us out, whom he with Venola, notwithstanding their earnest entreaties, conveyed to a Castle not far hence, whither we secretly followed him, and arè now returned to carry back this knight, with this heavy news, to the King.  
Do not so quoth Pollipus, but bring me to the Castle, and thou shall soon see I will set her at liberty, or venture my life. Sir (quoth the damsel) if I thought your travel would sort to any good issue, I would conduct you thither, but the Giant is now within the Castle, & the night near approached, therefore we will departed with this dead knight, and if you please to go thither, you may easily find it.  
Pollipus seeing her so unwilling, left her, and road towards the Castle, which he found fast shut, whereto was one passing by a bridge, over a mighty huge deep lake, the Castle itself being situated upon a lofty rock, so well fenced by nature, and strengthened by the art of man, that it was unconquerable, and not to be subdued by force: and coming to the bridge he found the same drawn up, by means whereof, he thought it vain to account of any thing that night, but contented himself to take the cold earth for his bed, and the large Forest for his Chamber, where he could take no rest, being troubled with many thoughts, having likewise some hope to find Violetta in that place, which added (though it were very unlikely) great courage to his resolution. That viewing she invincible strength of the Castle, and well considering how he might disadvantage the Giant if he could get him to single fight, in these and such like thoughts he spent most part of the night, until at last he laid him down, and gave a little slumber to his eyes.  
Early in the morning he buckled on his armour, and mounting his steed, shrouded himself under the shadow of an oak, not far from the Castle, where he might easily see who went out and in thereat.  
The first that came out that morning, was Argalte, mounted upon a goodly Courser, and armed in very rich Armour, whom Pollipus thought had been the Giant that the Damsel had told him of, whom he thus greets, Traitor, art thou the Giant of this Castle, which hast stolen the Lady Venola? Argalt hearing his peremptory demand, made this answer. I have the Lady Venola in my custody, whom I esteem above all the world, but no traitor as thou termest me. Yes, (quoth Pol●lipus) thou art a traitor, and worse than a villain, that disloyally offerest outrage to resistless Ladies, that hast not so much valour, as to show thyself before an armed Knigh: but since my destinies have allotted me to meet thee thus conveniently, I will abate thy pride, and correct thy tyranny, and make thee repent the outrages thou hast committed.  
Argalt hearing his speeches, was so enraged, that suddenly he drew forth his mighty Fawchion, and as suddenly struck a violent ●lowe therewith at Pollipus, which by the unexpected opproach, being unresisted, glanced on his thigh, and pierced the Armour, that the blood appeared.  
Pollipus seeing how treacherously he had smitten him, drew his sword and revenged that blow, beginng a brave and fair combat, which continued for a good space, until they had given each other many deep wounds. Argalte marveling at his enemy's valour, being never before so roughly handled, laid on his blows with mighty force, but Pollipus sometime nimbly avoiding one, and cunningly warding another, kept himself from any great harm, and in the end tired Argalt, who seeing that all his strength little availed to his enemy's disadvantage, and withal, feeling himself almost wearied, began to abate his blows, which Pollipus perceiving, gave him so many blows, and withal, such deep wounds, that he was in great danger of his life: and turning his back, fled towards the Castle, whom Pollipus pursuing, gave so many wounds, that he began to roar and cry exceedingly, yelling forth such a hideous noise, that all the Castle rung therewith.  
Brandamor hearing the same, presently hasted to his rescue, and lifting up his mighty mace, unawares struck so forcibly therewith vp●n Pollipus Crest, that it made him stagger, withal saying: Why offerest thou this outrage to my brother? Pollipus seeing his mighty proportion, being somewhat dazzled with the blow, retired a little back, and being recovered, made this answer. I need not tell thee wherefore, for that thy guilty conscience replete with vice, can bear witness of thy degenerate cruelty, offered to all that come within thy power, but especially to the fair Lady Venola, whom thou (or thy brother) haste brought to this Castle, whom I am come to rebeeme.  
Brandamor hearing his speeches, most towardly assailed him, being before almost wearied, and grievously wounded: who not withstanding resisted him so valiantly, that Brandamor in short time had received many grievous wounds, yet staying himself, said. I pity thy estate, and therefore I wish thee to yield thyself, before I chastise thy boldness any further, for I see thou art already wounded, and unable to withstand my strength: beside, I scorn to cope with one already vanquished: then take my offer of mercy, or else I will soon give that weak body of thine to be devoured of wild beasts. Vain boasting monster (quoth Pollipus) know, that I disdain thy friendship, and disclaim thy proffer, desiring rather to die by thy cursed hand, then yield to thy courtesy, therefore do thy worst.  
Brandamor hearing this resolute reply, being enraged with colour, struck at him most violently, but Pollipus avoiding his blow, thrust at him, and wounded him so deep, that the blood ran down upon his white steed. Argalt seeing this Knight so valiantly withstand his brother, called forth a great sort of servants in Armour, who rushing all at once upon him, with their throng beat him ●●om his horse and carried him ●nto the Castle, where he was unarmed, and for that night put into a close prison, having an old woman to dress his wounds.  
Early the next morning, he was brought into the Hall before Brandamor, who had Majestically seated himself in a chair, with ●●●ie ●●d●e eyes swollen with rage, uttering these speeches▪ Presumptuous and ouer●a●ing Knight, what frenzy hath caused thee to commit th●● unadvised folly, whereby thou hast intrust my wr●th against thee, an● brought say sel●e in danger? Wherein have I wronged thee, that thou shouldest ●ffer in molest me?  
〈◊〉 disdaining to be so peremptorily examined, made this reply. I list not tell my name, because thou knowest me not, the cause of my coming hither, is in search of a Lady that I suppose thou unjustly detainest, making thy infamous name so ignominious by thy outrages, that both heaven and earth will shortly hate thee. Dost thou seek a Lady (quoth he) come with me, and thou shall see all the Ladies I have.  
Then he brought him into a goodly Hall, hung with ancient clothes of T●p●st●ie, out of which he went into a most pleasant Gallery, furnished with all sorts of most beautiful pictures of excellent workmanship: from hence he came into a chamber of great largeness, so rarely furnished, as Pollipus marveled at the richneste thereof: at the end whereof, sat the most beautiful and fair Lady Fenola, with her golden hair hanging about her shoulders, her ●●ch and costly ornaments all betorne, her crimzen cheeks sprinkled with old dried tears, and fresh droppe● flowing from her pure eyes heavily leaning her careful head upon a cushion, with her hands hanging down f●ld●● one in another, seemed so sad and heavy a spect●●le of a distressed Lady, as never eye beheld: who seeing Brandamor and Pollipus coming toward her, lifted up her head from the place where she rested it, and carelessly let the same fall on the heavy pillow again. Pollipus seeing her exceeding beauty, and withal, voting her heavy estate, was strooken into a sudden compe, that he stood like one in a study. Brandamor thnking that was the Lady he came to redeem, said. Knight, if this be the Lady thou seekest to release, thy labour is in vain: for her do I esteem more than all the world: whose presence I so highly honour, that no force shall redeem her from hence: whom I both love and honour, as much as thou and all the Knights in the world beside: whose love hath caused my languishing torments this long time, which now I purpose to enjoy, to the extinguishing of my inward vexations: for her sake have I endured much travel, then do not think, that I will easily or willingly leave her heavenly company, but will approve and maintain, that I am worthier of her love then any Knight living: and since I have my desire in attaining her custody, I will likewise enjoy her love before she part hence.  
Venola hearing his proud boasting so much disdained them that she could not refrain from answering him, but rising from the ground where she sat, she uttered these speeches.  
Impudent miscreant, why presumest thou so much of thyself, that art able to perform nothing but brags? thinkest thou my love of so small ●●timation, as to be controlled and conquered by thy vain speeches? or any way to yield liking to thy detested karcasse: No, I account the basest trull in Libya, too good to be thy Paramour, much less myself do so much scorn thee, that I will rather execute mine own death, then suffer thee to defile me so much as with a touch: and thinkest thou because thou hast betrayed this one knight by treachery, there are no other that will seek my release? Yes be thou assured, that the violence thou haste offered me, by bringing me hither against my will, one day will turn to be the occasion of thy cruel death. Thou foul detested villain, leave off to utter such boasting speeches in my presence, for nothing can bring more grief to my heart, than thy ill pleasing sight.  
Brandamor hearing her heavenly voice sound for●h such bitter taunts against him, was exceedingly enraged therewith, but dissembling a pleasant countenance, he departed with Pollipus, whom after some speeches passed betwixt them, he commanded to be conveyed to a chamber, from whence he could as hardly get, as from the strongest prison in the world: who seeing that Violetta was not in the Castle, wished he had not attempted to have come there, but making a virtue of necessity, he endured such imprisonment as patiently as might be, thinking all misery nothing, being undergone for Violetas sake. Where we will leave him, to speak of Parismus.  
Parismus heart was oppressed with such grief, for the loss of the virtuous Violetta, and the absence of his dear friend Pollipus, that day nor night he could neither by sleep, or other recreation, give any case to his troubled head: therefore he determined likewise, to endure some travel for their sakes, that had suffered much misery in his behalf: and when Laurana and he were one night sweetly solacing themselves, each in the others pleasant love, he told her his full intent desiring her not to be discontented therewith, but to take his departure patiently.  
Laurana hearing his speeches, was so overcome with grief, that a flood of tears distilled from her precious eyes, and twining her tender arms about his neck, impressing a sweet kiss upon his lips, she uttered these speeches. Most noble Lord, are you weary of my company, that you seek to estrange yourself from me by travel? do you think I shall be able long to endure your absence, well knowing how many dangers may hazard your person, and detain your heavenly presence from my ssght? think you that I can attain any quiet, without the fruition of your heavenly company? or ever suffer sleep to seize upon my eyes while you are ausent? No sweet Lord, with your departure, all joy and delight shall part from me, and never will I suffer any content to harbour in my breast. Then most dear Love, (which words she uttered, intermingled with a number of sweet kisses) do not leave me in care, do not withhold my content, do not take away my sweetest delight, but stay you still with me, and command your knights to go in Violetta's search, who at the least beck, will post through the world to do you service: and hazard not your person in strange Countries, nor amongst foreign enemies, which may by some treachery work your grief: myself will here shroud you from harm: my arms shall enclose you from danger, and my love shall be the Fort you shall conquer. I will expel the sad remembrance of their loss, with delighfull communication: myself will rock your senses a sleep with Music, and my endeavours shall labour to purchase your content: then do not seek to leave me comfortless to bewail your absence, but make abode with me still, and my love shall shelter you from all peril. Which words being ended, the overflowing of her tears, stopped the passage of hi● speech, and sopping forth sighs, she hung about his neck.  
Parismenos was exceedingly gréeue● to see her heaviness, that sowlding her precious body in his arms, with a strict embracing, he laboured by delightful familiarities, to expel her sadness: which being some what mitigated, he uttered these speeches.  
Why dear Lady, what need you make th●se complaints, considering you know nothing is so precious in my sight, nor of so dear estimation with me, as your sweet love? Or what need you make speech, or take such fear of dangers, when you see no cause of disquiet? Why are you unwilling that I should take a little pains for their sakes, that would have many ways endangered their lives, and endured extreme misery for your sake▪ How can I excuse myself of ingratitude, to that courteous knight Pollipus? if whilst he passeth his time in sorrowful care, I should live here in ease not seeming to regard his misery, that would have shunned no danger to procure my comfort? How will all the knights of this Court esteem of me, but as of an ingrateful person, if I should so much neglect the duty of a friend? Then sweet Love, be not you ●he cause of my stay, but let me obtain your sweet consent, and expel those confused cares that trouble your quiet: for be you assured, nothing can be more grievous unto me, than your discontent: and nothing more pleasing, than your accord: the dangers accurrant to travel, are by wisdom easily avoided: then be you assured, that I will shun all hazard of mishap, for your sweet sake: and leave you ●ff is sorrow thus for that which you cannot with equity contradict: my stay shall not be long, nor my journey far: then be you contented to vouchsafe your agreement, and you shall thereby satisfy my content: his speeches being ended, with silence she gave consent, spending some time in sweet dalliance, and in the end, fell fast a sleep.  
Early in the morning, Parismus with many sweet kisses, took his leave o● Laurana, who bedewed her bed with abundance of tears, for his departure, and falling into a deep passion of fear, she presently started up, and arraying herself, came down into the court, where Parismus was ready to take his horse & running to him, caught hold of him, who marveling thereat, took her most lovingly in his arms, who was so far overgon with grief, that she could not speak a word: but bestowing many sweet tear wet kisses on her, he left her amongst her maid, and departed. With him, were Tellamor and Barzillus, keeping company together some three days, without adventure at all: at last, they came to a goodly plain, wherinto a common beaten path conducted them, until coming to the midst thereof, there stood a brazen pillar, from which, parted three several ways: there they stayed devising amongst themselves▪ which of those ways to take: at last, they concluded, that each of them should take a several way, and solemnly taking▪ their leaves, with kind farewells, they betook each other to their good or bad fortunes.   

CHAP. VII. How Parismenos called the knight of Fame, won the chief honour of the Tourney, at the Court of the king of Thrace. And having won Phylena, the king's daughter, was commanded in a vision, to give her to Remulus.  
PArismenos (no otherwise known, but by the name of the Knight of Fame, under which name, he did pass till he came to the knowledge of his parents) being as is before said in another Chapter, conveyed by Amasenus to his castle sore wounded in the battle he had with Argalus and Thenudes, was so carefully tended by the Duke's Ph●sitians, that in a few days they had brought him to his perfect remembrances: and within short time after that, to his former health, which greatly rejoiced the good old Duke, who took great felicity in his company, for the many honourable parts he saw to abound in him. And upon a time, in the presence of all his Court, demanded the cause of the combat between him & Argalus, which he requested as well to know the truth thereof himself, as to satisfy the ●uspitious minds of many that inwardly maligned the discontented Knight, unto whom he declared the truth in manner as is before set down, saying▪ This my lord, is the truth of our misadventure, whom I never injuried, but always esteemed as my dear friends. Amasenus was glad that no cause of discon●ent could be conceived against him, by any other of his knights, who envied him, because his noble gifts darkened their glories: but yet his ●rieous & kind behaviour in short time expelled that rancour, & they that ●efore were his enemies, began to make good estimation of him, and his fame began to spread itself in most parts of Thrace, and all that eever beheld him, grew into admiration of his strength, accompanied wi●h ●uch beauty, as his youth yielded: that had they not known the contrary by his prowess, they would have taken him for some disguised Lady. Wheilest the knight of Fame remained in Amasenus court, the King of Thrace appointed a general triumph, to beheld for certain days, the occasion whereof, is this.  
He had one only daughter, named Phylena, whose beauty was inferior to none: and her gifts of nature were such, as made her much spoken of in many countries: insomuch that many knights came as suitors to obtain her love: but she had secretly betrothed herself to Remulus, one of the knights of her father's court, without her parents consent: by means of whose beauty, the court of Thrace was so full of gallant knights that sought her love, that the king was much troubled in mind how to bestow her: and seeing that she did not fancy one more than another, he appointed a general triumph to be held for seven days, and whosoever bore away the prize the last day, should marry his daughter. Intending thereby to end his doubt and care that way: thinking, that though his daughter had not a rich and Princely husband, yet she should have a valiant Champion to defend the price of her beauty.  
Amongst the rest of the Knights, there was Guido, who had long time ●ued to obtain her love, who now rejoiced at this decree, hoping by his valour to bear away the bride. There was Trudamor of Candie, who thought none to equal him in strength, and therefore none more forward against the appointed Triumph, there was Drio of Sicily, who had sailed from his own Country thither, who likewise by his strength, at several times, slew three Lions, who came with resolution to win Phylena for his wife. And many other knights of high account.  
The report of this Triumph came to the knowledge of the knight of Fame, whose mind was kindled with a great desire to go thither, that he requested Amasenus consent, who being desirous any way to pleasure him, gave him sufficient coin to furnish himself of all things fit for such an attempt. Who caused a most rich Armour of green to be made, shadowed with trees of gold, presenting a Forest. In his shield he bore this device: A naked man leading a Lion, with this motto underneath, Overgone with discontent. Wherein the expert Artsman had so cunningly imitated his Fancy, that a man by his Armour and shield, might easily understand his meaning, The appointed time of Triumph drawing nigh, Amasenus with a gallant troop of knights, amongst whom the knight of Fame was chief, came to the Thracian Court, whom the king honourably received. Amasenus having done his hom age to the king, pitched his Tent without the Court Gates, upon a little hill hard by the appointed place for Triumph, where likewise hard by him were the Tents of Guido, Trudamor, Drio, and the three valiant knights of Candie: Tristamus, Tennulus, and Babulus, in whose company were a number of valiant knights, that came thither, some to make trial of their valour, and some of purpose to win the fair Phylena. Likewise there were the Tents of the young King of Arragon: who came accompanied with a number of valiant knights, hoping to bear away the prize, that all the plains were filled with Tents. There might you see knights breaking staves, practising themselves against the day of Triumph. Here might you see other recreating themselves in martial exercises; there might you hear the neighing of horses, clattering of Armour, cracking of staves, and such companies of knights assembled, as if the richest prize in the world had been appointed for reward.  
Whilst these things were acting, Phylena was in great care for Remulus, whom she loved so dearly, that rather than she would part with him, she would endure any misery whatsoever: who likewise addressed himself to try his fortune amongst the rest. And the day before the triumph, Phylena secretly getting opportunity to speak with him, gave him this assurance of her constancy.  
My dear love quoth she, since my father hath decreed this public triumph, for the bestowing of me in marriage, because amongst so many Knights as have sought my love, I have affianced myself to none of them, but have chosen you, as the chiefest lodestar of my life and love, be you yet assured, that though fortune may allot me to be another's by conquest, yet none but yourself shall enjoy my love: and though another may challenge me by right of my father's decree, yet none but yourself shall have true interest in me: and rather than I will yield to like of any Knight's love but yours, I will endure either death, or any other torment shall be inflicted upon me, for you are the Knight that shall conquer my love: you have by courtesy won my love, and you shall wear it. Nor King nor Knight shall rob me of that which I have given to you: then be not you discomforted, or any way disquieted, but try your fortune amongst the rest, and fate may happily allot you the conquest as well as any other.  
Remulus hearing his Ladies constant resolution, was overcome with exceeding joy, resolving to venture as much as any, to attain the conquest, and solacing himself so long as their stolen time would peru●●t, in her company, being by necessity compelled, they parted.  
The next morning, the King of Thrace accompanied by a number of personages of estate, brought forth the beautiful and fair Phylena, most richly adorned with costly ornaments, wearing upon her head a crown of gold, attended by a hundredth Damsels clad in white, and seated her on a scaffold, in the open view of all the Knights there assembled, whose hearts were enamoured with the sweet attaint of her shining beauty, and their courages revived with the hope of so rich and precious a prize. Amongst the rest, there was Remulus, whose heart was oppressed with distrustful care, to see the Lady he most esteemed: and his secret protested love, set as a prize, to wring him from his possession: yet comforted by her faithful promise, he took great felicity to see that beauty made famous, which he made account to enjoy.  
The knight of Thrace began the triumph, and the first that entered the lists was Andrea's, who was at two courses unhorsed by Cleanthes, who continued conqueror by the overthrow of many Knights, until Bubulus, one of the three brethren of Candie, with violence drove him from his horse, and burst one of his ribs. Bubulus unhorsed many Knights afterwards, both of Thrace and other strange countries, and in the end, was unhorsed himself by Remulus, who behaved himself so valiantly in the sight of the Princes, that by the soil of many Knights, he ended that days triumph, to his exceeding honour, resting conqueror until the next morning. When the night was overpast, the King conducting Phylena in the like manner he had done the day before, seated her again upon the scaffold. When Remulus came into the lists, bravely managing his prancing sléed, whom Thylena beheld with a careful eye, breathing forth many a denouted prayer for his good success, who having conquered some twenty Knights, in the end was foiled by Temulus, and so with a heavy heart left the field. Temulus continued conqueror by the disgr●●●●● many knights, almost all that day, but in the end, was unhorsed by 〈◊〉 king of Arragon.  
The King of Arragon ended that days triumph, and con●●●ed chief conqueror the next day, and on the fourth day was ●nhorsed by Tristramus, and so lost the conquest he so much desired.  
Afterwards Tristramus continued that days triumph with great bravery, and the fift day was unhorsed by Annulus, a knight of Libya, who unhorsed that day sortie Knights, to his exceeding honour.  
The Knight of Fame all this while kept himself out of sight, and lodged at a village some two miles distant from the Thraciau Court, and according to Amasenus appointment, came toward the lists gallantly mounted all alone, and by the unexpected manner of his sudden approach, and by the strange fashion of his armour, as fortune would, was not generally noted, and in that sort he entered she lists, reverencing himself towards▪ the scaffold whereon the King was seated, and setting spurs to his horse, encountered Annulus, (and fortune intending at the first to do him some disgrace) missed his course, and Annulus broke his staff most bravely, wherewith the whole assembly gave an exceeding shout, and the knight of Fame being enraged with his oversight, charged another course at Annulus with great violence, and overthrew him, with his heels upward, whereat the whole company gave an exceeding shout again, every one thinking he had purposely lost his first course, by which means all were desirous to see him run again, which the discontented knight performed so gallantly, that he unhorsed another knight of Libya, that thought to revenge Annulus overthrow.  
Guido disdaining thereat, and seeing how the beholders were affected, noted him more specially, thinking by his foil to win some special honour, and with the more bravery to continue the rest of the triumph, and attain the prize taking a strong staff, prepared to meet the knight of Fame, who by that time had dismounted three or four other knights.  
The people seeing the valiant Guido come to the lists, who was well known to all, thought then surely to see the discontented knights honour at an end, for on him and Drio, the chiefest suppose of conquest ●●pended.  
Guido encountered the knight of Fame the first time, without of●●●ing or sustaining disadvantage, which inwardly vexed him to the heart, that charging him again the second time, notwithstanding all his force, he could not once move him in his saddle. The discontented knight, likewise feeling the puissance of his enemy, was exceedingly enraged, that taking another course, they met with such fury, that the earth shook with the force of their encounter, and their Lances shivered into a thousand pieces, passing by without any show or sign of odds.  
The king of Thrace seeing the day so far spent, sent a messenger to entreat them to leave the further trial of their doubtful conquess until the next day, which they both consented unto.  
The next morning these two Champions came again, w●th desirous minds to be revenged each of the other, and met two courses with such bravery, that the people with great shouts applauded their chivalry, the knight of Fame choosing the strongest staff that he could find, meant now or never to give or take the foil, and rushing forcibly to encounter Guido, he met him so violently, that Guidos Horse yielded so the force of their encounter, and falling down, burst his leg: the people seeing Guido down, were drawn into a wonderful amazement what this Knight should be.  
Phylena likewise was much tormented in mind, in her fancy allotting him the chiefest honour, and seeing he was some Knight of a strange Country, fearing lest he obtaining her by conquest, should carry her far from her father's Court, and so quite from the sight and company of her dear friend Remulus, that she was drawn into such a sad conceit, that her heart seemed to me●●●hereat. Trudamor seeing Guido so foiled, with great bravery entered the lists, and encountered the knight of Fame, who likewise charged him with many brave courses, that in the end, the conquest remained in great doubt betwixt them, still continuing their encounters with exceeding courage, that Trudamor with all his strength could not any whit disadvantage the Knight of Fame, nor he by his force get any adds of Trudamor: that in the end, Trudamor thirsting for the honour of the title, and longing to enjoy Phylena for his Bride, tracing softly to his races end, went towards the knight of Fame, who with the like behaviour met him, ● whom Trudamor said as followeth.  
Knight, I see we have no advantage against each other by this ●●ercise, let us then finish the doubtfulness of this strife with our swords, which is the readiest mean to make one of us conqueror. With all my heart (answered he again) your proffer so well agreeth with my fancy, as I neither can nor will deny the same: wherewith they drew their swords, and charged each other with furious blows, whose courage each beholder greatly commended.  
The King of Thrace beholding the noble valour of the Knight of Fame, was exceedingly well affected towards him: in so much, that he desired none might enjoy his daughter but he: between whom & Trudamor continued a most brave combat, till in the end, the knight of Fame had so grievously wounded him, and in so many places, that all the beholders accounted Trudamor as half vanquished: and what with effusion of blood, and overmastred by the knight of Fame's strength, his armour giving way to every blow, was ready to fall from his horse: which the knight of Fame perceiving, stayed: uttering these words. Most noble knight (quoth he) I see the danger you are in, therefore I wish you to yield yourself, for it is not your death that I seek: and rather than I will be guilty thereof, I will yield up the pray I shall win by your conquest.  
Trudamor hearing his speeches, exceedingly admired his courtesy, and being ready to speak, his senses by weakness began to fail, and he was taken from his horse to have his gaping wounds stenched. The whole multitude of beholders noting the singular valour of the knight of Fame, and how courteously he had abstained from kill Trudamor, whose life was in his power, were so well affected towards him, that they shouted and rejoiced exceedingly at his victory.  
The king seeing the day grown to an end▪ came from the scaffold, and with great entreaties got the knight of Fame to go with him to the Court, where he was most hono●uably entertained, and had his wounds carefully searched by the Physicians, who sound none of them dangerous, Amasenus seeing the knight of Fame had won the chiefest honour of the triumph for that day, came to the king, and reported to him how long he had been with him, and the manner of his first arrival in that country, seeking to increase the king's affection towards him, by entering into many exceeding commendations of his valour, virtue, and courtesy: that the king did him all the honour that might be for that night, intending after the triumph ended, to express his love toward him by all means he could devise.  
Early the next morning, being the last day of the triumph, the king was summoned to the field, by the shrill sound of the knight of Fame's trumpet, who was gallantly mounted, attended by an infinite number of people, that came to glut their eyes with beholding him: there was now no talk but of the knight of Fame, his same had fed the ears of all, in so much that such a number of people thronged to see the last days triumph, that the place could not contain their multitude. The knights of Thrace marveled what he should be, and for that he was unknown, ●he strange knights somewhat rejoiced, that the prize should be carried ●●om Thrace. Amongst the rest, Remulus noting his exceeding courtesy, and p●●ing more narrowly than any of the rest, into his behaviour, rejoiced in his mind that so honourable, valiant, and courteous a knight, should possess his dear Phylena, and above all the knights of the Court, he was most ready to entertain the knight of Fame, with all courtesy, and wi●●t that none but he might bear away the chiefest honour of the triumph.  
The king having again in most sumptuous and royal sort, seated his daughter upon the scaffold, attended the first encounter that should be given to the knight of Fame, which was performed by Parrus, a knight of Cicill with great bravery, but the second course he measured his length on the earth, as others had done before him. Next him came a knight of Libya, who had like fortune to Parrus: Guido being not satisfied with desire of victory, but in putting the cause of his lost overthrow to his horse, not himself, changed his armour, and came into the lists again, intending to revenge his foil: but before he came, Drio of Cicill had broken two staves with the knight of Fame, and before he could take the third course, Guido instigated by rage, ran against the knight of Fame, and intercepted him. Drio disdaining thereat, struck Guido such a forcible blow on the head, with the truncheon of a staff, that he made him stagger. Wherewith Guido drew his sword, and assailed Drio with great fury, between whom began a most brave combat, until the knight of Fame stepped betwixt them, and parted them, uttering these speeches. Knights (quoth he) what meaneth this outrage? why contend you betwixt yourselves, and leave me, with whom you should principally deal, unassayed? think you I am not of sufficiency to deal with you both? but that you must thus dishonourably, seek with private quarrels to disturb our trial? But notwithstanding his speeches, they began to assail each other again, which so enraged him, that drawing his sword, he first struck at Guido, and then at Drio, offering to combat with them both, that the issue of this combat seemed to be most intricate. Sometimes the knight of Fame assailed Guido, and he resisting, when Drio lent his blows to both: and the knight of Fame intending to revenge him on Drio, was again assailed by Guido.  
The King perceiving what danger this tripartite fight might breed, commanded the Champions to be parted, which being done, the judges gave order, that the knight of Fame should continue his course with Drio. This conclusion being made, the knight of Fame sheathing his sword, went to the races end so fully incensed with rage, that his eyes smarted with vexation. Drio likewise was so fully puffed with fury, that he vowed at that course to end the trial of the combat: that both of them taking scope enough, to meet with the greater swiftness, set spurs to their steeds sides, and with exceeding violence, and shivering their Lances into a thousand spells, which sung in the air: before the steeds met, Drio wi●ding his rains, intending to overthrow his enemy unawares, the steed unacquainted to such custom, bore his head aloft, and the knight of Fame's steed keeping on his continued course, with great strength overturned both horse and man, that Drio late almost bruised to death with the weight of his horse. Guido attending the next trial, had readily couched his staff, but the knight of Fame being extremely enraged, not well knowing, nor caring what he did (having secret intelligence before given him, that it was Guido, the knight that he had already vanquished) set spurs to his horse, and ran at him with his sword point, that had he not avoided him, he had pierced the same quite through his body: who turning himself with his sword drawn, assailed the knight of Fame, between whom continued a m●st brave combat a long space, until Guido by his unresistible blow, was grievously wounded: who intending to revenge himself, struck a most violeat blow, which lighting cross his helmet, broke his sword: which the knight of Fame seeing, cast down his own, disdaining to have any ●ddes of weapon, and joining himself close to Guido, with long striving and main force, in the end fling him down from his horse: wherewith the people gave such a shout, that the earth seemed to shake w●th the Echo of their voices: by which time, the night's black mantle began to overspread the whole earth, and there appeared no more Combatants against the knight of Fame, but to his unsprakable honour he remained victor. Then presently he was in triumphant manner (according to their custom) with the noise of Trumpets conducted to the king's Palace: where the king and all the vanquished knights received him with great honour. Amongst the rest, was the king of Arragon, a most gallant and brave knight at arms, who greatly desired to be acquainted with this brave Champion, using him, with the rest of the knights, with all courtesy and kindness. After many solemn welcomes were passed on every side, and he unarmed, the king speaking to him, uttered these speeches. Most noble knight, whose prowess hath deserved everlasting commendations, according to my former decree, and the promised reward to the conqueror, I yield to your hands my daughter, the only heir of my kingdom. Then taking Phylena by the hand, he delivered her to him. The knight of Fame with great reverence kissing her hand, uttered these speeches. Most sacred Princess, how can I sufficiently rejoice, that am this day extolled to the highest type of heavenly felicity, by being unworthily preferred to have your custody. Yet I beseech you vouchsafe me (though a stranger) that bounty, as to esteem of me, as one that is altogether vowed to your service, and though by right of conquest I may justly challenge you for my own, yet be you assured, I will request nothing at your hands, but what shall be granted with your free consent: but I rest yours to command & dispose of, in all humble duty.  
Which words being ended, (he that never before kissed Ladies lips) with great reverence took of her a sweet kiss: and she with a heavy heart and mild behaviour, yielding herself as his to dispose of, which she was constrained to do by her father's promise, and the knights worthy deserts: though inwardly in her heart she devoted all kind love and affection to Remulus: on whom being by, she cast many a mild● and modest look, inwardly wishing he were the man might claim her by right of conquest, as well as by the true affection she bore him.  
That night the knight of Fame was honourably feasted by the King, and afterwards conducted to a most Princely lodging. And being now alone, he began to meditate of his estate, and to ponder hue happily he had escaped shipwreck, and was preferred to such high dignity▪ as to marry the daughter and only heir of a king: withal, he began to call to mind every particular thing he could remember of his birth and bringing up in the Island of Rocks, his fancy persuading him, that he was son unto some greater parsonage than he yet knew of: with all, well viewing a jewel which he had kept ever since his nurse was slain, which she gave him in charge to keep charily, which thoughts, and withal, a secret instinct of nature, which he felt in himself aiming at higher matters, settled a persuasion in his thoughts, that he was borne of royal race, and therefore meet to match with a king's daughter. And calling to mind the exceeding beauty of Phylena, importing in his fancy a perfect remembrance of her graces, sweet countenance, and mild behaviour, he felt a secret stirring and throbbing at his heart, which disturbed all his senses, that he was as it were transformed into a kind of pleasant delight, wherewith he fell into a dead sleep.  
In midst of his sleep, the Goddess Venus pitying the troubled thoughts of her devoted subject Phylena, willing to extol the same of this knight, appeared unto him in a vision, standing by his bed's side, with a clear burning ●●per in his one hand, and holding a most beautiful Lady in the other, of such divine perfections, that heaven nor earth c●uld not in his fancy frame a more divine essence of purity: the Lady Venus uttering these words.  

Thou Knight of Fame,  
Regard the words I speak:  
Seek not by force,  
loves constant bands to break.  
Phylena fair,  
The beauteous heir of Thrac●●.  
Her constant love,  
On Remulus doth place.  
Desire not then,  
Her liking to attain,  
But from her love,  
Thy fantasy refrain.  
Thy conquest right,  
Give him that hath her love:  
And from their hearts,  
The cares they bide, remove.  
This Lady bright, thy fancies shall subdue,  
Then to her love, be constant just and true.  
First seek her out, then to her pleasure tend:  
To win her love, thy who●e affection bend.  
Of Royal race, thyself art rightly sprung,  
Lost by thy friends, when thou of art were young.  
Thy father's fame, hath filled the world with praise.  
Thy mother's gifts, her lasting honours raise.  
Bend thy desires,  
Their comfort to procure,  
That for thy loss,  
Sad sorrows do procure.   
Whilst the Goddess uttered these words, the Knight of Fame diligently beheld the exceeding beauty of the Lady she held in her hand, and thinking to have demanded her name▪ she presently vanished: wherewith he awaked.  
The remembrance of this Vision, drove him into a censused multitude of thoughts: one while persuading himself, it was but a dream and not to be regarded, and then again assuring himself it was a Vision, like to that which appeared to him in the Island of Rocks, but chief such a secret impression of the Lady's beauty was fixed in his remembrance, that he quite forsook and forgot the least thought of Phylena, whose beauty in his fancy, was nothing comparable to her divine perfections, that calling to mind every particular note he had seen, the perfect Idea of the Lady's countenance, favour and beauty, was so deeply imprinted in his heart, that no other thought could sink in his brain, but that she was the Lady he should honour, that he vowed to search the world throughout to find her, and come to the knowledge of his parents. In these cogitations he spent the rest of that night.  
Early in the morning, he was honoured with all diversities of courtesies, and most royally feasted of the King, and by his appointment, should be affianced to Phylena, within six days; The Knight of Fame remembering the Vision, being most commonly in company of Phylena, diligently noted, which might be the Knight Phylena loved, and soon perceived that it was Remulus, who amongst the knights of Thrace, had sought most means to honour him. Who little thought the knight of Fame had noted the kindness betwixt him and Phylena: but he noting all circumstances, perceived that Phylena was deeply enthralled in the bands of constant love: for though she were in talk with him, yet her eye was continually on Remulus, glancing so many sweet looks (intermingled with sighs) towards him, that he thought it a most discourteous and inhuman deed to part them. And once taking occasion when Phylena was in a deep study, he said. Dear Lady, may I be so bold as break off your sad study, wherewith you add heaviness to your mind: and expel this careful disposition, and rather spend your time in mirth and pleasure, I have often noted your heaviness, which maketh me suppose my unworthiness to be the cause thereof: but seeing my interest is such, as that I may claim you for my own, I beseech you do not so much disgrace my travails, as not so vouchsafe me that kindness belongeth to the condition of my conquest, and your father's decree: and if you esteem me, be●●●s●●●knowne, as yet not to have deserved your love, impose 〈◊〉 ●ny talk, and I will undertake it for your sake: and not on●l●●●bour to win your love by desert, as by the triumph I ha●e ●●●ained the interest of your person. But I perceive your ca●●● are such, for some other great occasion, that I am an unwelcome guest to your company, and an other hath already attained your sweet love: which if be so, sweet Lady hide not the same from me, but make me privy thereto, for I am not of that rude disposition, to challenge any thing at your hands, or enforce you to any thing, but what shall stand with your liking: and though your virtues force you to yield consent to your father's decree, yet considering that love is not won with the sword, but with a mutual consent of the heart, I yield myself to be censured by you, and give my right of trial into your hands, and the interest I attained by conquest, I surrender to your censure, to be revoked or established.  
Phylena hearing his words, with tears standing in her eyes, made this reply: Most courteous Knight, howsoever I have settled my fancy heretofore, that is now countermanded by my father's promise, and your interest, that I am not mine own to dispose of, but must in all humbleness rest at your disposition. And it an other had my promise of love, yet now I must revoke that promise, and labour to attend your liking: therefore I wholly commit myself according to your right of conquest, into your courteous hands.  
Dear Lady (quoth he) know this, that I account myself unworthy of that honour, and am unwilling any way to contradict your will, or disturb your quiet: but knowing that which you virtuously conceal, will surrender my estate to the Knight you most fancy: for the honour I have won, shall be my sufficient reward: therefore I beseech you, conceal no part of your mind from me, for I will not deny to perform any thing you shall command, but will hazard both life and honour to satisfy your fancy, and any way procure your content.  
Phylena with a blushing countenance, made this short reply: Most noble Knight, Remulus is the knight I have long esteemed, but must now forsake him, or purchase my parents discontent, and deny you the right of your conquest. The Knight of Fame smiling at the inward conceit of his Vision, made this answer. And dear Lady, I will yield my interest to Remulus, only to work your content: for he hath worthily deserved to be beloved of you: besides the honour he hath done me (notwithstanding I might be the only man to hinder his content) showeth the abundant virtues that rule his heart. He had not scarce ended those words, but Remulus feeling his ears to glow, thinking all time tedious out of his La. sight, came into the gallery, where they were in private conference: but seeing them (half repenting his intrusion) would have stepped back: towards whom, the Knight of Fame came, leading the Princess by the hand, and contrary to Remulus expectation, said. Courteous Knight, your interest in this Lady, is greater than mine, for you have her heart, and I but her hand: which I surrender unto you, with all the state I can claim in her by right of conquest: and so effectually will I deal with the King, to your liking, that he shall confirm that to you, which I should possess by his grant. Remulus hearing his speeches, was so revived with joy, that he could not tell what answer to make him, and phylena's heart leapt within her, being most glad, fortune had effected that means for her, to enjoy her dear knight Remulus.  
The Knight of Fame, having his thoughts troubled with the remembrance of his travels in search of his unknown Lady, and willing to leave them to their secret content, with all courtesy (a●ter many speeches past) departed from them: who took such felicity in the assurance he had given them of obtaining the King's consent, that their joy was without compare, spending their time in sweet and pleasant communication. Afterwards the knight of Fame grew into great familiarity with Remulus, and the day for the solemnisation of the wedding being come, he with Phylena, in great pomp, were conducted to the Chapel, to be affianced together, where the Knight of Fame kneeling down, desired the King to grant him one request: who swore by his Crown and Kingdom, to grant it him, whatsoever it were. Most noble King (quoth he) my humble desire is, that you would without further doubt, ratify that which I shall perform in the behalf of the Princess. Thou shalt not be denied quoth the King.  
Then the Knight of Fame rising up, took Phylena by the hand, and gave her to Remulus: the King being astonished thereat, yet remembering his oath, said. Since by right she is yours, & this being with her liking, I give her freely to thee Remulus, & withal, adopt thee mine heir, with her after my death. Remulus kneeling, thanked his Majesty: and presently they were affianced together, and the rights and solemnities of the wedding performed with admirable pomp, to their ●ay, and the high honour of the knight of Fame.   

CHAP. VIII. How Archas discovered sorana's deceit, and missing Violetta, slew her. And how Violetta lighted on a Hermit's Cell, who conducting her towards Bohemia, died: and of the miseries she endured afterwards▪ until she was entertained at Panuamus Castle, near the Forest of Arde.  
ARchas (as before is declared in the fift Chapter) having couched himself by Sorana, whom he supposed to be Violetta, without speaking a word, and having somewhile embraced her in his arms, began his dalliance, whom Sorana so cunningly handled, that (notwithstanding his former familiarity) he perceived nothing but that it was Violetta indeed. At the first she made a show of a strangeness, but afterwards endured whatsoever he proffered, with whom he spent that night, giving no respite to sleep, but greedily satisfying both their desires, until the morning approaching, Archas according to his mistress command, departed, and left his Paramour in his bed, his fancy persuading him that she was the most sweetest Lady in the world, which so rejoiced his heart, that he spent that forenoon in much mirth, but missing Sorana, for that he had not seen her all that day, he went to her chamber, where being entered, he saw some of Violetta's attires and ornaments confusedly cast about, and all things in such disorder, that he could not tell what to think, at last he inquired of every one for her, but none could tell what was become of her, until coming to the Gardiants, they told him that Sorana went out of the castle the last night, and that she had left with them his ring. Archas seeing the ring, knowing that he had given it to none but Violetta, was so amazed & astonished with doubt, that he presently suspected Violetta was escaped: and coming to the chamber where she should have been, softly drawing the bed curtains, sound that Sorana had been his bedfellow in steed of Violetta, who after her pastime was fallen a sleep. Archas now perfectly knew that Violetta was escaped in sorana's disguise, and thought that it could not be, but that she must be consented thereto, which caused him to fetch his sword, determining to end her life: but by that time he was returned, she was aw●ke, and seeing him coming towards her, with his sword bend to her death, being terrified therewith, she gave such shrieks as many of the servants hearing the noise, came running into the chamber, but he being incensed with exceeding rage, for Violetta's loss, and inwardly fretting at his deceit, with repentance that he had bestowed his love on that loathsome creature, who now seemed most ugly, in respect of the divine and sweet Lady he supposed he had embraced, caught hold on her, and by the hair of the head, dragged her out of the bed into the midst of the chamber, uttering these words. Most detested strumpet, couldst thou not he contented to consent to Violetta's escape, but thou must also betray my love to thy loathsome lust? was not the favour I daily showed she, sufficient to deter thy mind from offering me that abuse? deceiving my expectation, betraying my life by her escape? I could peradventure have remitted the one, if thou hadst not been guilty in both: but never shalt thou rejoice in my fall, and little pleasure shalt thou reap by thy night's work: wherewith, not suffering her to make him answer, assuredly persuading himself she was guilty in both, he thrust his sword quite through her body, and there in that undecent sort left her, giving many a groan, with the date of her life. The servants seeing this, covered her body, and afterwards buried it. Archas presently arming himself, giving special charge to the Gardiants to keep diligent watch, posted that way he thought best in her search.  
Violetta by this time was wandered a great way, care hastening her steps, and fear to be again by him surprised, took away the tediousness of travel, at last forsaking the beaten way, she wandered aside into a most desert and unfrequented place, being so full fraught with trees and little springs, that there she thought was the safest harbour, wherein to remain undescried, being tired with travel, and possessed with care, she sat down upon a bank site so refresh herself. She had not long stayed in that place, but she beheld an aged man, whose years made him stoop to the earth wards, carrying a few dry sticks under his arm. Violetta thinking she might repose some confidence in his virtues, because of his years, drew towards him: who seeing so beautiful a Lady in that unfrequented place unattended, exceedingly marveled, to whom she said. Ah good father, whose years bear reverence, will you vouchsafe a distressed Lady secure, who by extream● miseries compulsion, am wandered to this unknown place, sore wearied with travel, and in requital of your kindness, my prayers shall invocate she heavens to grant you felicity, and my reward sufficient to content you for your pains. The old man hearing her speeches, made this answer: Fair Lady, my homely Cell is not worthy to receive your person, but such as it is, you shall be heartily welcome thereto: for I desire to live no longer, then to extend my small assistance to such as are in distress, but especially to such harmless creatures as yourself: therefore pleaseth you with kindness to accept what succour my ability will afford, or what counsel my experience may give you, you shall receive both with a willing heart. And for that I see your travel, (upon what occasion to me as yet unknown) hath both wearied you, and this cold earth whereon you sat, may endanger your health, give me your hand, and I will yield you what aid my weak strength wilt permit, to guide you to my Cell, which is hard by. Do so good father (quoth she) and I thank you most heartily, where I will disclose to you my unfortunate mishap: that said, she lent herself upon his aged arm, so wearied with travel, that she scarce could set her feet upon the grassy earth, for hurting them. His Cell, it was no other but a hollow cane, which the poor old man by his own instustrie, had cut and undermined under the side of a rocky hill, which was well contrived, having his lodging several from the rest, and so artificially had he framed his Chimney, that through a hollow vaw●e he conveyed the smoke, at the foot whereof, ran a most pleasant spring, where the clears water striving with the smooth pebbles, made a burbling noise, where the comfortable beams of golden Phoebus had full force. On the other side was a sweet spring, where the birds kept continual pleasant recording harmony. Assoon as Violetta was entered this old man's Paradise he seized her soft upon a chair, giving her all the courteous entertainment he could, and presently brought forth such cases as he was provided of: which was, white bread, cheese, and apples: her drink being the clear brook water that ran by his Cell door, whereto, because he would amend the taste to her liking, he mingled Aquanitie. Violetta being hungry, thought his poor provision in that quiet place, dainty fare, wherewith she stenched her hunger▪ & in the mean time, the old man had heat water and herbs for to bathe her overtravelled feet in, which she kindly accepted, perceiving tha● it came as willingly from the old man's heart, as ever good deed came from any & therewith bathed her feet. This done, Violetta desired the old man to seat himself down by her, (who taking a stool, l●t down right against her, fixing his eyes upon her face) whilst she began so 〈◊〉 as followeth.  
Good Father (quoth she) the kindness I find in your entertainment, showeth the virtues that rule your heart, which maketh me no whit doubt to commit the dangerous report of my tragical misfortune to your secrecy, neither need I require any stricter assurance, than your promise already past, to extend your aid to my distress. Therefore thus it is. I was borne in Thessaly, and there wedded to the noble and courteous knight Pollipus, who came lately to Bohemia, with the most noble and famous Prince Parismus, who hath brought hither the king's daughter of Thessaly, the virtuous Princess Laurana: we had not stayed long in the Bobemian Court in great joy, but thus our felicity was crossed, (my Lord and I one day) enticed by the heat of the sun to seek some cool shadow, wandered from the Court into a pleasant grave, where haunted a wild Bear, whom my loving knight espying, pursued, and I fearing lest some harm might be●ide him, compelled, by desire of his welfare, thought to have followed him, but wandered a quite contrary way, and being gotten out of the wood, fearing to return back, was by Archas (to me before unknown) by cunning deceit conveyed to his Castle, his promise being to carry me back to the Bohemian Court, where when he had remained some two days, he certified me falsely (which I afterwards perceived) that Pollipus was dead, which I believing, took so heavily, that I was often in danger of my life thereby: but in small time I plainly found his falsehood, and understood his intent, which was, to detain me in his keeping to satiate his lust, which grew to such fury, that surprising me unawares in his Garden, he would have forced me, had not a Gentlewoman by my cries repaired to the place where I was, and thereby prevented him, Whom I made privy to all my secrets, by whose means, late yesternight I stole from the Castle: now good father (quoth she) counsel me how to escape his hands, who I know maketh all diligent search for me and unless you help me, I am like to fall into his hands again, which rather than I will do, I will endure a thousand deaths.  
The old man had all this while diligently noted every circumstance of her discourse, making this answer: Lady, I perceive by your speech what miseries you have undergone by Archas treachery, whose infamous deeds hath made his name famous, being the chief Governor of these mountains: indeed extremely and generally hated, who delighteth in no virtuous action, but continually addicts his mind to villainy, and unknightly deeds, out of who●● hands, you are most▪ 〈◊〉 to have escaped: neither are you in the co●ntrey of Bo●●mia (a● you suppose) but far distant from thence: and the best means for you to g●t thither is to change your habit, whither myself so pleaseth you, will be your weak, yet trusty guide.  
Violetta's heart leapt within her, for joy to hear his speeches, which the presently put in practice, giving him a jewel: which ●e at th● next town exchanged for such homely ●●eedes as they devised to ●ée fittest to shroud her from being descried. Wherewith having appareled herself, she departed with the old man, who left his Cell to the keeping of his son, who was servant to a wealthy Boor dwelling thereby. The first days journey they overpast with ease, shortening the tediousness of the way, with the old man's discourses: and at night rested themselves as conveniently as they might, upon the cold earth, and in this sort they journeyed on some three days, until their provision began to decay: and they were without hope of getting any more to supply their want, for that they were entered into a desolate Wilderness: which they could not overpass in three or four of their short days journey. Violetta of the twain, was the best teaveller: for the old man by reason of his withered age, was soon tired, having no such inward conceit to drive him forwards, as she had procured by a longing desire to see her dear knight Pollipus, that she wished a thousand times that her guide had been young, and of better strength to endure their journey. But thus contrary, it fell out the old man's time of death than approached, who having taken a surbet, with lying on the cold earth, began to be sickly: and in the end so weak, that he could endure no further travel: but sitting down upon a bank side, feeling an extreme faintness possess his heart, he uttered these speeches: Unfortunate wretch that I am, that am not able to perform my promise made to you most courteous Lady: but must here leave you in asstresse, and without comfort: would that my destiny had not suffered me to live until this instant, for that your good fortun● had been so favourable to have lighted upon a safer guide, that you might have escaped the desolation, I am most unhappily like to leave you in: this unfrequented wilderness, affordeth no release ●o your cares: but after my death, your travels are to begin a fresh, being without a guide, which may chance to bring your virtuous perfections into some further d●nger: only this comfort remaineth to my careful dying heart, that your habit may be a mean to bring you safe from all dangers. This unfrequented place is so full of uncertain ways, that I know not almost which of them to counsel you to follow: only this, keep the Sun at his setting, right before you, for that way lieth the Bohemian Court, and so sweet Lady, I commit you to all good fortune: for I see the date of my wretched life is at an end, wishing all prosperous success to your journey, all happy escape out of danger, and your own sweet hearts content: desiring you to make no tarriance to provide my Funeral, but leave me in this place: for little account do I make of my aged body▪ And so again, I wish you all happy felicity, with a blessed and joyful end of your cares: which words being ended, he gave up the ghost.  
Violetta seeing the good old man dead, was overcome with such infinite multitudes of cares, that she had much ado to keep herself from following him, that she sat there shedding abundance of tears, and what with the remembrance of the desolateness of the place, & the dead body of the old man, which was a fearful coarse to look upon: her senses were drawn into such amazed terror, that she was half beside herself therewith: and being aghast with the sight of the old man, hasted with all the speed she could, onwards her journey, but dark night approaching, her mind was then racked with such confused fear, that sometimes she thought the old man's Ghost haunted her, which appalled her senses with deadly ghastfull terror: then she thought she heard some wild beast behind her, ready to seize upon her, which made her forsake the place where she had shrouded herself, and seek an other in her fancy more safe: and in a multitude of these cares, she overpast that tedious night, uttering many a sigh for the morning's cheerful approach: which being come, she again betook herself to her solitary travel, inwardly sorrowful for her late misfortune: but most of all terrified with fear to meet Archas, thinking to be●d her steps towards Bohemia.  
But Fortune intending to augment her cares, and lengthen her travails, caused her to wander a quite contrary way, and she nothing misdoubting, but supposing she was in the best way, kept on her steps some three days without intermission, and at last espied an ancient Castle, whose craggy walls were ready to fall to the earth, by reason of age, where she was constrained by reason of extreme hunger, to seek for secure: and coming to the gate, she saw an aged old man with a sad countenance, keeping the entrance to whom Violetta spoke in this sort. Good aged sir, vouchsafe a poor distressed woman some relief, being wandered far out of my way, and for want of food, am like to perish.  
He lifting up his head, made this answer: this place affordeth small comfort, because every part thereof, is replete with sorrow: but come in, and what entertainment it yieldeth, you shall be welcome unto: that said, he shut the gate, and brought her into the Castle, where were a few servants in mourning attire: seeming by their habit and sad countenances, to be quite overgrown with discontent: and in a room several by itself, sat a beautiful Damsel, with her eyes swell with grief: to whom the porter brought Violetta, and said. Madame Carina, this distressed woman craveth some succour, being wandered far from her way, whom I will leave with you, because I must return to my charge. Clarina rising up, took Violetta by the hand, and desired her to sit down by her, to whom she said.  
This place by reason of our misfortune, may rather add care to augment your sorrows, then comfort your distress: for the misery that hath lately befallen us, is such, as hath expelled all joy from our hearts. And because you shall be acquainted with the truth of all, I will relate▪ the circumstance of our tragedy.  
There remaineth a Giant not far from this place, called Brandamor, in a castle of such invincible strength, as it is impossible to be vanquished by legions of soldiers, who taketh delight in nothing but cruelty, and unlawful attempts. Who upon a time, chanced to atrive at this Castle, and by evil fortune, espied me walking abroad, in company of my parents, my brother Panuamus, and two of my father's servants. And (I know not by what desire thereto drawn, his mind be●●g apt to any mischief) he viewing me, liked my beauty, & such a disordinate desire stirred in his breast to obtain the same, that he shrouded himself in secret, until he espied his fittest opportunity, and suddenly set upon my father, offering to take me away by violence: my father denying him, until the Giant being enraged, drew his sword and assailed him, whom in short time he slew: which my mother and I perceiving, ●led towards this Castle, and in the mean time my brother Panuamus continued fight against him a good space, but being unable to cope with so mighty an enemy, was by reason of many grievous wounds, in the end left by him for dead: which done, Brandamor seeing our slight, hasted after us: but before he could come at us, we attained the Castle, and rescued ourselves from his possession. But when he saw himself disappointed, he made as though he had departed from hence, and contrary to our thoughts, he hide himself secretly amongst the bushes. My mother being overcome with extreme sorrow for my father's death, neither regarding doubt, nor danger, went back with hope to recover him, whom Brandamor surprised and carried away with him, hoping by her imprisonment, to win her consent to yield me into his hands. My brother Panuamus, within a while, recovered his feet, not knowing of my mother's misfortune, with great danger of his life, crawled home: whom I had much ado to preserve from death, and now he is departed towards the Forest of Arde, where the giant's castle standeth, to invent means to set my m●ther at liberty: and this night is the promised time of his return. And thus have you heard the whole circumstance of our sorrow: which when she had said, abundance of tears issued from her eyes, which made Violetta (whose tender heart was ready to relent at every sad discourse) accompany her lamentations with watery eyes: withal, remembering how unfortunately she was still cros● in her desires, which was to attain to Bohemia, and how contrary to her expectation▪ she was wandered quite an other way, and brought both in danger of her life, and to that poor and distressed estate, her heart was priest with such inward sorrow, that she could not stay the passage of her tears already begun: but such a violent flood distilled from her precious eyeballs, that Clariana could not choose but note them: and withal, grew into an earnest desire to know the cause of that extraordinary passion: withal, well viewing her beauty and sweet countenance: collecting into her fancy every circumstance, she began to suppose that Violetta was no such as her apparel showed, but of better birth and bringing up, then by her attire was shown, that desiring to be re●●lued of those doubts which rose in her fancy, she uttered these speeches.  
I know not quoth she, what title to ascribe unto you, for that I am ignorant of whence and what you are, but if you will commit the report thereof ●o me, I promise you both to conceal the same (if any such need be) and also to do my uttermost to pleasure you any way.  
Therefore I desire you to impart the recital thereof to my secrecy, that knowing your estate, I may know how to use you according to your worthiness.  
Violetta being desirous to seek any means for to comfort herself, made this reply. I most heartily thank you for offering me so large a proffer of your assistance, which I stand in need of now, for that my endless travel crave some ease: for my luckless stars have allotted me such adversities, as would soon cut off the wretched lives of many: but neither death, nor ought else will be so favourably as to rid me from further calamities, but I am still plunged into their intricate labyrinth▪ for know most courteous Lady, that myself of late was promoted to all felicity, but now am contrarily plunged in all distress, and that this habit I have only put on, to shroud myself from many petils, that I was formerly subject unto. For I am an unfortunate Lady as you are, by extreme misfortunes drawn from my dignity, friends and acquaintance, and forced both by want and weariness to seek refuge in this place, where by your kindness I am well refreshed: neither will I conceal any of my misfortunes from your knowledge. Then Violetta repeated the whole truth, as she had done before to the old man in his Cell, which when Clarina heard, with tears she did partake her sorrow: and taking her by the hand, desired her to hold her excused, for not using that behaviour towards her, which her estate deserved, promising with willingness, to further her safe conduct into Bohemia, which she knew her brother Panuamus at her entreaty would undertake. In this and such like communication they spent their sad time, until Panuamus return, who shortly came without hope of redeeming the Lady Madera his mother.  
Clarina assoon as he was come, declared to him all that she could of Violetta's estate, and what she was: amongst the rest, she told him that she was espoused to a Knight named Pollipus. Panuamus hearing her name Pollipus, called to remembrance the speeches he had with a Knight that he met that day, and assuredly thought this was the Lady he went in search of. Now the knight he had met was Tellamor, who entering into communication with him, inquired if he could tell any news of a Lady that was unfortunately lost in Bohemia, (relating the very same circumstance that Clarina told him, Violetta had before declared unto her) withal, Tellamor demanded if he had not met a Knight, bearing this devise in his shield: A Knight pursuing ● Bear. Now it fell so out, that Panumus beheld the notable combat that Pollipus fought with Brandamor, and remembering his devise, knew him to be the same knight Tellamor inquired after, to whom he declared all that he knew, concerning the battle with Brandamor, and how treacherously he was surprised and imprisoned.  
Tellamor hearing that Pollipus was imprisoned in the Forest of Arde, departed thitherwardes, and Panuamus came to his Castle, where at his coming, he found Violetta, in simple array, and hearing his sister's speeches, weighing each circumstance, found that she was the very Lady that the Knight inquired after, and that the knight that fought so valiantly with Brandamor, and was by him imprisoned, was her husband.  
Panuamus having gathered this intelligence of Violetta's misfortunes, and remembering the noble valour of Pollipus, was touched with an affectionate pity of her distress, and what furthered by his own inclination and Clarinas entreaty, resolved to use his uttermost endeavours to work her comfort: and coming to Violetta, declared the whole circumstance of all that he had heard of Tellamor, and of Pollipus, in the Castle of Brandamor.  
Violetta hearing of a certainty that Pollipus was yet living, and not dead, as she before that suspected, (for though she perceived the contrary before in Archas Castle, yet a scruple remaining in her mind thereof) was somewhat comforted, and in some better hope to come to him again: but calling to mind the danger he was now in, was exceedingly again overwhelmed with care of his welfare: and hearing of his imprisonment, determined to endanger her own liberty to enjoy his company, if other means could not be wrought for his release. Panuamus seeing her overwhelmed with such a chaos of confused cares, said as followeth. Most virtuous Lady, since Fortune hath brought you into this place, & that you have thus happily heard of your knight Pollipus, release yourself from the bonds of those cares, which disturb your quiet: for here you shall want nothing that accordeth to your will: and myself will do the best I can to set Pollipus at liberty, which whilst I go about, so pleaseth you, my sister Clarina shall keep you company, whose griefs are as great as may be.  
Sir (quoth Violetta) might I obtain this favour at your hands, that you would give the knight you met, knowledge of my being here, than I am sure he will soon come to me, with whom I would gladly speak, for I know he is one of the knights of Bohemia.  
That will I do (quoth Panuamus) or any thing else you shall command me: and because I will not be disappointed of meeting him, I will early in the morning follow him, for that he is gone to the forest of Arde, where I shall be sure to find him. Early the next morning, according to his word, he mounted himself, and departed after Tellamor, leaving Clarina and Violetta together, using the best persuasions they could to comfort one another.   

CHAP IX. How Panuamus met with Tellamor, and how he and Tellamor met Barzillus at the Golden Tower: and returning altogether to Panuamus Castle, Tellamor was enamoured of Clarina.  
PAnuamus having left Violetta and Clarina together, with all speed hasted to find Tellamor, and riding an unwonted pace, he overtook him entering into the Forest, unto whom he said. Sir Knight, let me be so bold as to ask you one question? Tellamor hearing his words, and knowing him to be the same knight he had met withal before, courteously bade him ask what he pleased. Are you not a knight of Bohemia (quoth he?) Tellamor marveling why he asked him that question, told him that he was indeed belonging to Parismus, Prince of Bohemia. Then said Panuamus, a Lady that remaineth not ●ar hence, named Violetta, hath sent me back unto you, and desireth to speak with you. Tellamor hearing his words, was affected with exceeding joy thereat, making this reply. Sir Knight, in a happy hour did I meet with you, by your means to come to knowledge of their abode I most desire to find: indeed Violetta is the Lady I go in search of, and also wise to the knight you told me of yesterday, who by your report remaineth prisoner in the Forest: therefore I will return with you to visit that Lady, to whose service my life is wholly dedicated. This said, they reterned back together, but the night being approached, & they without any place to lodge in, thought it as good to travel all night, as take up their lodging on the cold ground: therefore Panuamus undertook to guide them, trusting to his own knowledge, contrary to his expectation, wandered a quite contrary way: and when Phoebus began to illuminate the earth with his golden brightness, they were come into a pleasant valley, where they beheld two Knights continuing a most fierce combat, and drawing near unto them, Tellamor presently knew the one of them to be Barzillus, the occasion of which combat was thus.  
After Barzillus had parted from Barzillus, and Tellamor taking the middle way he wandered many days without any adventure, and at last arrived at a most goodly Palace, most exceedingly beautified with innumerable Turrets of exceeding height, that their tops seemed to equal the clouds, of such curious workmanship, as the like hath not been seen, whose glistering reflection procured by the suns bright beams, dazzled the sight of the beholders: with an admirable glittering. In the mids of this stately Palace, stood a gallant building in form of a Temple, seeming to the view of such as beheld the same, to be made of the most purest and burnished gold, on the top whereof, stood the form of a most goodly Lady, with a Crown of gold upon her head, whose lively proportion & form of exceeding beauty, would have detained a most constant mind, in a wandering delight to behold the same. Barzillus beholding the exceeding be autie of the Palace, and the stately form of the pictured Lady▪ was desirous to know who inhabited there, and to that intent drawing nigh thereto, at the entrance thereof, he beheld a tent, with these verses written thereon.  

Pass not this Bridge before thou knock,  
Lest thou too late repent thy pride▪  
Leave not obtained, thou mayst go ba●ke,  
For entrance is to all denied.   

A Knight within must know thy name,  
Thy boldness else will turn to shame,   
Barzillus reading the superscription, smote the Tent with his lance, when presently issued out a knight, in every point ready armed, to whom Barzillus said as followeth. Knight▪ I reading the superscription over the entrance into the Tent, according to the direction thereof, have called thee forth, demanding thy meaning thereby, and what goodly Palace this is, the like whereof, I never beheld for beauty? Knight (answered he again) this Palace is called the Golden Tower, belonging to Maximus, the most mighty and famous king of Anatolia, wherein is his only daughter Angelica, for beauty without compare: for wit, form, and virtuous ornaments, excelling all the Ladies in the world: whose equal was never heard of, nor can be found within the spacious continent of the earth. The King hath placed her in his most rich and gorgeous Palace, whose walls are of Brass, and framed of such invincible strength, that no power of man is able to subdue the same: she hath to attend her a hundredth Ladies of great dignity, and a thousand of the most valiant Knights in all the world. The occasion why he guardeth her person is this▪ At her birth, an old Enchantress prophesied, that her beauty should set Kings at discord, and be the cause of her father's death.  

A child is borne, whose beauty bright,  
Shall pass each form of other fair:  
As doth the Sun in perfect light,  
Each little star sixth in the air.  
For whom great Kings shall enter strife,  
And war shall shed Natolians blood:  
Whose Ire shall spill Maximus life,  
Yet wisdom oft hath harm withstood.  
A mighty Prince her love shall gain,  
Though vice do seek to cross their bliss:  
He shall her r●inne with restless pains,  
And she of sorrow shall not miss.  
Much barbarous blood revenge shall spill,  
And all of war shall have their fill:  
All this sholl happen by degree,  
Before this child shall weaded be.   
And because he will match her according to her dignity, he hath likewise made a vow, that none but the greatest Potentate in the world shall be her husband. Which said, the knight went into this Tent, and brought out a most gallant picture: this (quoth he) is the Lady's form, wherein the Artsman hath showed some pretty skill, but so far is this picture uncomfortable to the perfect description of her celestial perfections, and as far different in delicacy, as is black from white, or beauty from deformity, whose view would change the affections of the truest knight living, from his former constant resolve, to adore her beauty, and forsake his former vows, only to attend her person, for so divine are her lineaments, and so rare her perfections, that her ●ame is even spread through all the regions of the world. Barzillus hearing him enter into a new discourse of her beauty, and that in such affectionate sort, having before in his fancy said enough, began to laugh at him, saying.  
Knight, me thinkest thou dotest, or else art mad, to enter into such commendation of this Lady's beauty, having peradventure never seen other fair Lady, or else for that thyself art affectionately devoted to love none but her: for I have seen a Lady that as far exceedeth this picture, as thou reportest she doth all other: (which words Barzsllus spoke only to see whether his valour and bostings were agreeable) wherewith the knight that kept the Tent was so vexed, that he uttered these speeches.  
What ill nurtured creature art thou (quoth he) that deridest the beauty, that is rather to be admired? hast thou no more manners, then to make so little estimation of that which all the world adores? thou shalt dearly abide this discourtesy: with that he mounted himself, and charged a spear at Barzillus, who answered him with such courage, that at two courses he overthrew him from his horse. By which time a number of Knights were upon the bar●lements viewing their combat, and seeing the knight that kept the Tent foiled, burst into an exceeding laughter, and so departed.  
Barzillus having foiled the knight, for that the night drew nigh, withdrew himself from the Golden Tower into a pleasant valley, and there stayed that night. The Knight that kept the Tent was belonging to the King of Candie, who came with persuasion to win Angelica's love with his prowess, and with much ado had obtained leave of the Gardiants to keep the passage, but he not contented with his foil, intending to revenge his disgrace, followed him to the valley, where Tellamor found them combating, as is aforesaid: who knowing Barzillus, stepping betwixt them, parted the fray. Barzillus likewise knowing Tellamor, with great kindness embraced him, and upon his request declared the cause of their combat. Tellamor then speaking to the knight of the Tent, gave him this farewell. Knight, return to your charge, for your combat here is at an end, for business which I have yielded into your hands, and when you are amongst your friends in Bohemia, be not unmindful of poor Clarinas love, who hath committed her life, honour and chastity, into your gentle custody.  
Most dear Clarina (quoth Tellamor) my return shall be as speedy as may be, for like as you, myself shall never enjoy one minutes respite of content, without your heavenly company, whereon my chiefest felicity dependeth: and as you have yielded all that I can desire, or you grant, into my unworthy keeping, I will as carefully labour to preserve the same from all spot of dishonour, hoping at my return, to enjoy the possession of your love, as well by general consent of your friends, as by your courtesy I have attained their divine fruition in private. Then I beseech you, let no disquiet disturb your peace, let no doubt trouble your fancy, nor any suspense of my loyalty take root in your heart: for sooner shall the Sea become dry land, the Sun and Moon lose their clear light, and all things turn to their contrary, before Tellamor will any way falsify his faith. In these and such like speeches (intermingled with many delights) they spent that night, taking their leave each of other, with many a ceremonious farewell, and parting with many a heavy s●gh and sad tear, thinking that with each others sight, each others life had parted. Tellamor according to his promise, arrived in Libya, even at the time of Parismus departure, whom we will leave onwardly of his journey towards Bohemia.  
The Knight of Fame having slept his fill, and longer a great deal than he determined, awaked within two days after Parismus departure, little thinking the Prince had been gone, but beginning to arm himself, Flavia coming to him, said as followeth. Worthy Knight (quoth she) I am glad to see that you are well, which until now I doubted. The knight of Fame wondering at her speeches, said: Gentlewoman, as yet I have not been sick, then why do you make any question of my health? Indeed sir (quoth she) I see now you have not been sick, but you have slept very long, for I have been your keeper here this two days, ever since the Prince of Bohemia departed, who thought to have had your company some part of the way, but seeing your sleep (from which you could not be wakened) he imparted his mind to the Lady Venola, who hath given me especial charge to attend you diligently.  
He hearing her speeches, was amazed in his thoughts to think of them, entering into many cogitations what should be the cause of his sleepiness, which he perceived was the potion which he had tasted, that he was exceedingly enraged with himself, that he thereby was disappointed of Parismus company, whom he esteemed above all the knights that ever he had met withal, and making a virtue of necessitid, blaming himself for his sleepiness, he went down into the company of other knights, making the best excuse he could thereof. Flavia in the mean time went to Venola, and told her all that had happened: and what she had told him of Parismus departure: wishing her to devise what she thought best to satisfy his mind. The Knight of Fame being desirous to know what message Parismus had left with Venola, meeting with Flavia, desired her to certify her Mistress that he attended her pleasure, to know what the Prince of Bohemia had told her as concerning him.  
Flavia hearing his speeches, brought him into a gallery, where she desired him to stay, and she would go bring him answer presently: so coming to Venola, she told her thereof. Venola then having rid her chamber of all company, willed her to bring him in, whom she welcomed with unwonted kindness: and taking him by the hand, desired him to sit down by her upon the beds side, to whom she said, as followeth.  
Most courteous knight, the Prince of Bohemia willed me to certify you, that he would within four days return to this place, to desire your company in executing a secret of importance: desiring me, that I would entreat you to stay here some few days, and at his return he will requite that kindness: therefore I pray (quoth she) be my guest for so long time, for I have received such benefits by your courtesy, as I would willingly (if it lay in my power) requite the same. I thank your excellency (quoth he) for proffering me such kindness, acknowledging myself both unworthy thereof, and unable to requited the same: being so much the more willing to stay Parismus return, thereby to shew● my duty to your request: and seeing you vouchsafe me to be your Guest, having yet deserved no such kindness, pleaseth you to command or employ me any way, and I will most willingly undertake any travel to procure your content: which words he spoke, little knowing what passions had possessed her heart, whom she used so kindly, and entertained with such loving glances, that he began greatly to commend her courtesy: and marveled why she used him with such kindness, that would have pierced the heart of any other Knight but only himself, whose affections were settled on his inward devoted Lady: that venola's love was but bestowed in vain, and she spent her sighs and her good will in a barren soil, where she's wept in hope of recompense: which drove her to such extremity of grief, that she was often in mind (having him so fitly in her company, and fearing to lose so sweet opportunity) to reveal her love to him of herself, but that purpose was suddenly altered by contrary thoughts, that she sat racked with so many and so extreme cogitations, that the grief on the one side, that he could not conceive of her good liking, by so many evident tokens as she had shown thereof, and her own passions overwhelmed her heart with such care, that she suddenly burst into abundance of tears, and so rose from the bed and went to a window.  
The Knight of Fame marveling what should be the cause of her sadness, thinking that his company could but disquiet her, departed her chamber, which she perceiving, was overcome with such passion, that she fell down dead: wherewith Flavia gave such shrieks, that the knight of Fame hearing her outcry, suddenly returned, and finding Venola in that estate, did the best he could with the Nurse to recover her senses: which at last began to turn to their wonted uses.  
Venola lifting up her eyes, and espying the knight of Fame holding her in his arms, wished that she might for ever have continued in that trance, who carrying her to the bed, there laid her down, and Flavia and other Damzelles by that time took her into their custody: which caused him to departed again: after whom Venola cast such a greedy look, accompanied with such scalding sighs, that Flavia feared she would have fallen into the like trance again. After that she was well recovered, and all her attendants departed, Flania said as followeth. Why dear Mistress (quoth she) how immoderately do you govern yourself, to fall into these extremes? I beshrew my heart, if I do not repent that ever I undertook to be an actor herein, What, have you no more wisdom, but so fond to d●a●e on a straggling knight, that cannot, or at the least will not understand your meaning, taking a delight to see your torment, for it is impossible but that he should perceive your love towards him: then be not so affectionate towards such a one, as neither regardeth love, nor knoweth what belongeth to courtly civiltie, Peace, peace, (quoth Venola) either fill my ears with the sound of better words, or else hold thy tongue: for I tell thee, it is more odious unto me then death, to hear thee so much disgrace the Prince of courtesy: for in him remain all honourable parts, whose presence is more pleasant unto me, than all the proffered services of the knights in the world: and if thou canst comfort me no better then by these speeches, keep secret what thou knowest, and hereafter thou shalt know no more of my mind.  
For I imparted the same to thee, thinking to have comfort by thy counsel, but thou contrarily, addest care ●o my grief. Sweet Mistress (quoth she) I beseech you do not conceive so hardly of my meaning, for I speak nothing but with intent to procure your good: and rather will I tear my accursed tongue from forth of my head, than it shall hereafter utter a word to displease you. Then (quoth Venola) once again counsel me what to do, for thou seest how far I am tied in the bonds of love to that worthy knight, that without some hope of comfort, my cares will be exceeding, and more than my poor heart will be able to endure. This I think (quoth Flavia) is the best to be done, either do it yourself, or let me give him knowledge of your love, and then you shall soon see whether he will accept thereof or no. Do so then (quoth Venola) I commit all to thy discretion.  
The knight of Fame being departed to Venolas chamber, was as far from conceiving the cause of her passion, as he was from the knowledge of all things, and being walked into a Garden alone by himself, Flavia came to him, whom he kindly greeted, ask her how her Mistress did.  
Sir knight (quoth she) in the same case you left her, and rather worse, the cause of whose disquiet is procured by no disease, but by an extraordinary occasion, which none but one can remedy, which I would willingly give the party knowledge of, but that I know not whether he will take the same kindly or no: Else were he much to blame (quoth he) for hard were his heart, that would not pity the distress of so divine a creature. Gentle sir (quoth she) thus it is. My Lady hath ever since the first sight of your person, been greatly tormented with loves passions, which is the cause of her sickness, which resteth only in your power to salve.  
The Knight of Fame hearing her speeches, was so suddenly astonished, and therewith drawn into such cogitations, that he stood a good while like one in a trance, at last he said. The harder is her hap, and the worse my misfortune, for I am unworthy of such kindness, and unable to yield her recompense: which words being spoken, he turned himself from her, being drawn into such a deep meditation, that he regarded not, nor scarce heard some words Flavia spoke to him afterwards, who thinking that he had of purpose contemned her, departed in a monstrous rage: and being alone by himself, cagitating upon these events, perceived that her former kindness had proceeded from the same root of affection, greatly condemning himself of dullness, that could not before that perceive the same: wishing that he had departed with the Prince of Bohemia, for that his fancy could by no means be▪ drawn to the least good conceit of her love: for his heart was wholly employed an other way.  
Then he began to call to remembrance the somniferous p●●●on he had tasted, by which means he was disappointed of Parismus company, revolving every consideration and circumstance of the same and these events, was in the end fully persuaded, that it was purposely done by Venola, or some by her appointment, to stay him there: which thought was so fully grounded in his fancy, that he assuredly persuaded himself that was the very truth, and none else: which drove him into many studies how to rid himself from thence, at last he determined to departed in secret and unknown to any. And with this resolution, all that day he accompanied the rest of the Knights, thereby to shun all occasions of hearing any further speech of Venola. Who hearing how scornfully he had received Flavia's message, (which Flavia had told her) entered into such extreme complaints against her hard fortune and shed such abundance of tears, that the bed whereon she lay was watered therewith: in which estate she continued tormenting herself with extreme cares.  
Early the next morning, the knight without the knowledge of any departed, clogged with such a chaos of confused cares, as that he wished the date of his weary life (subject to so many crosses) were expired, intending never to return thither, whom Flavia soon missed: the news whereof, she conveyed to the hearing of Venola, who took the same so heavily, that many days she continued as one likelier to entertain death, then to survive: which drove her Parents into an extreme sadness, from whom she still concealed the cause of her grief. In which estate for a while we will leave her, and the knight of Fame onwards on his journey, and Clarina in great care for the absence of Tellamor, in the forest of Arde.   

CHAP. XV. How the Knight of Fame arrived in Anatolia: and by what means he found the Lady he saw in the vision: and the combat he fought with Collimus.  
AFter the Knight of Fame was departed the King of libia's Court, to avoid the love of Venola, he traveled many days without any adventure, tired with extreme care and desire to come to the knowledge of his Parents, and to find his devoted Lady, that when the Sun was at the highest, and by that means the season very hot, he alighted from his horse in a pleasant valley, where sitting under the shadow of a Chestnut-trée, he entered into this communication to himself▪ What crosses still prosecute my steps, that I can in no place be at quiet, but am still troubled with that which I would not, but cannot find the thing I desire? My birth day was the beginning of my sorrows: since which time, nothing but care hath fallen to my share, whereas I see other Knights enjoy their hearts content. My Parents hidden from my knowledge, myself traveling to find them, peradventure go rather a great way from them, then to them: for the Island of Rocks, from whence I came, and where I was brought up, is far distant from this place: and I think if I would come to their knowledge, it is my best course to return thither again. Was I not over-foolish, to refuse the marriage of Phylena, the King's daughter of Thrace, upon vain confidence of a dream? upon whose certainty I can no way build, which might be procured by some Sorcery of Remulus, to make me refuse that honour, to the intent he might install himself therein, and cause me to dote on the beauty of a Lady that is no where to be found: for the whole world contains not such an essence of perfect beauty, as that which I beheld? Then what shall I do? or which way shall I shape my best course? shall I give over her search, since dreams are so uncertain? I but this was more than a dream, it was a Vision: for I beheld the Goddess Venus, who enjoined me this talk, holding that sweet Lady in her hand: whose form so perfectly is printed in my remembrance, that I cannot forget the same: which assuredly is living and to be found: and therefore I will never desist till I have found her, though I spend the whole race of my life in that quest: which if it were ordained for my endless forment, then how should I avoid the same? neither care I what pain to endure, if I may after all my travels find her.  
In this sort he spent much time, until he fell in a deep study, leaving his back to a Tree, he fell fast a sleep. Whilst he was in this sweet sleep, (by happy fortune) Angelica the fair, that day had forsaken the Golden Tower, (which was not far from the place where the Knight of Fame ●a●e) to meet the King her father, who with the Queen was coming from the City of Ephesus, where he kept his Court, to sojourn certain days for his disport in the Golden Tower, that yielded all kind of delights. Angelica passing along this pleasant valley, gallantly attended by an unwonted train of Ladies and guard of Knights, espied the Knight of Fame, supposing that he had been dead: to ease which doubt, she willed one of her Knights to see what he was. The Knight coming to him, awaked him, who suddenly starting up, began to lay hand on his sword, but casting his eye aside, he beheld Angelica's gallant train, and amongst the rest, herself, whose countenance he presently knew to be the very same Lady he had seen in the Vision: whose beauty and sudden presence struck such an amazement to his senses, that he stood like one in a trance. Angelica seeing that he was alive, and not dead as she supposed, passed on her intended journey, not regarding him. He seeing her departed, thus said to the knight. Courteous sir, I pray let me crave that gallant Lady's name. Sir (replied he) her name is Angelica, daughter to the most mighty king of Anatolia, who passing this way to meet the King and Queen, (who are coming towards the Golden Tower) and seeing you lie under this tree, sent me to see whether you were alive or dead: which said, he departed.  
The knight of Fame rejoicing that he had seen his long expected Mistress, was presently rapt into a heavenly conceit of joy, that he thought himself as it were transformed into pleasure, such comfort revived his dro●ping heart from sad dumps, with her delectable fight, even then beginning to study how to come to her speech, to purchase occasion to give her knowledge of his duty; finding so many lets and impossibilities between him and his intent, that he began to despair thereof: at last resolved upon nothing, but determining to do something, he mounted his steed, and followed that way Angelca went: purposing to take a more precious view of her perfections, being hopeless of any other comfort.  
He had soon overtaken her train, not yet resolved by reason of his strangeness, what to do, nor what means to use to speak to her, being encompassed by such a number of Knights: at last he thus thought with himself: I that have refused the good will of king's daughters▪ only to find this beautiful Lady, and in her search have endured so many mischances, shall I now when I see her, be afraid to speak to her▪ or may I not hereafter be disappointed of such fortunate occasion as is now offered me? What though she be guarded by these knights, being alone, it can no way breed offence to them, that I speak to her. With this resolution he passed by the hindermost of her company, without speaking to them, who greatly marveled what he should be, and coming right against Angelica, who he easily knew from the rest, by his former little view of her form in the vision, he kindly drew near her, and with a submissive sign of reverence first given, he said as followeth.  
Most sacred Lady, pardon my boldness, which I beseech you do not account rudeness: I have traveled many a mile, to attain the height of this felicity, to behold your divine perfections, which maketh me, contrary to that dutiful reverence my heart hath vowed▪ to intrude myself thus rudely into your presence, being void of other meane● to demonstrate my depth of devotion: therefore I humbly once again desire your pardon, that have offended against my will: desiring you withal, to enter into this opinion of my meaning, that (notwithstanding what persuasion my rudeness may breed in your heavenly heart) it is both loyal, honourable and virtuous, and no more intending to presume above my desert, yet my life shall be always employed to deserve as well as the best.  
Angelica hearing his speeches, sadly noting his countenance, and being of a most singular wit, admired his courage, that notwithstanding all her guard, he durst so boldly presume into her presence, which caused her the better to regard both his speeches and proportion, made this reply. Sir Knight, it may be you are deceived, for you have not found that which you have so long sought, which maketh m● account your speech flatteries, and your boldness folly: entering into no other conceit of your meaning, for be it either good or bad, I care not, for the one cannot harm me, nor the other pleasure me: but for your good will, I take that kindly, though in my fancy you profess more than you will perform.  
Divine Lady (quoth he) vouchsafe but to employ me, and then shall you make trial of my forwardness, which shall be no less than I have promised: for my speech nor bold approach into your presence, hath not proceeded from want of respect of your worthiness, but from a strict command, long since enjoined me to become your dutiful servant: therefore I humbly beseech you, judge favourably of my meaning, for I will rather hereafter consume my heart with silent care, then by my speech purchase your displeasure, if you command the contrary. He had not scarce ended those words, but she let fall her glove: which he seeing, presently alighted and took it up, with reverence kissing the same, offered it her again.  
Knight (quoth she) take it for your labour, wherewith she turned away from him, for that she espied her Father coming: which caused him, being glad of that favour, to withdraw himself. One of Angelica's knights named Camillus, to whose principal custody the king had committed his daughter, above all the rest noted the knight of Fame's behaviour, and disdaining that a stranger should carry away the glove, which he esteemed a favour far beyond his desert, himself having been her servant a long time, yet could never attain any such kindness: withal, supposing he was some knight Angelica knew, presently hasted after him, trusting too much to his own valour, and bluntly bad him render back the Princess glove. Sir (quoth he) again, the Princess gave it me, and for her sake I will keep the same. Wherewith Collimus without any more mords, retired back to encounter him: and he did the like, and remembering it was the best deed of chivalry he could perform in his Lady's presence, thought with himself, that if he sat not fast, he would quail his courage: presently, they met each other, the one with bravery, the other with force, for Collimus measured his length on the ground.  
By this time the King and Queen had met Angelica, and all greetings overpast, their trains met which almost filled that pleasant valley: in company of Maximus, was Camillus, son to the king of Slavonia, attended by a number of gallant Knights, who hearing o● the e●ceeding beauty of Angelica, was lately come into the country as a suitor, to whom Maximus said, (beholding the brave course between the two Knights,) What Knight is yonder, that hath overthrown his adversary with such agility? A comely Knight he is (quoth Camillus) but it seems he is a stranger. With that, another knight of Angelica's attendants, upon the former quarrel, encountered the knight of Fame, who tasted of his valo●r, as his predecessor Co●limus had done, and after him another, which when Maximus beheld, he called a Gentleman to him, willing him to request the strange knight to come and speak with him, which fell out well for the knight of Fame's quiet, for had not the king been present, the knights of Angelica's guard had taken such a secret indignation against him, that they by violence would have sought his death. The messenger Maximus sent, told the knight of Fame that the king did request to speak with him. Sir quoth he) I am ready at his command: to whom Maximus said as followeth.  
Sir knight, you are it seemeth to me, a stranger in this place, but notwithstanding somewhat bold with my knights, both whose quarrel against you, and your cause of arrival. I desire to know. Most renowned king quoth he) I am a stranger in this place, or in any else: in my travels meeting with this gallant troop, to any of whom I have as yet given no cause of offence, which should make them trouble me. Sir (quoth Maximus) they have reaped shame for their discontent: bu● I pray let us without offence know your name, & of whence you are: neither fear to disarm yourself▪ for upon my promise, you shal● have no wrong offered you: which said, the knight of Fame pulled off his hesmec, making this answer. By name most noble king, I am called the Knight of Fame, my birth to myself unknown, by no ill intent drawn into this country, but only to find out my Parents, which are likewise unknown: myself subject to misery, by the want of knowledge of myself. Marcellus son to Maximus, a knight of exceeding courteous and honourable parts, hearing his speeches, humbling himself upon his knee before his Father, said. I humbly crave your majesties favour, to entertain this knight honourably, for that I have some knowledge of him, which I will declare to your Highness hereafter.  
Maximus hearing his sons speeches, said: Rise up Marcellus, for thy sake, and for his own too, he shallbe welcome: whom do thou use according as shall seem good, and be agreeable to his honourable deserts. The Knight of Fame hearing his speeches, most humbly thanked him▪ and Marcellus presently embraced him, showing many tokens of hearty good will.  
Angelica all this while noted every circumstance of this knight's arrival, as first how she found him a sleep: and next, of his speeches to her: then how valiantly he had overthrwne three knights: then her brother's speeches: and lastly, his gallant yotuh, and comely person: which altogether wrought such a kind of admiration in her, that she began with a curious eye to mark all his actions: and to affect his company, more than she had done any man's: oftentimes casting a look upon him, she perceived his eye was still upon her: which made a ruddy blush beautify her cheeks. In which time, the king entreated him to stay sometime with him, if his important business did not withdraw him: which offer he willingly and kindly accepted: which fell out according to his own hearts content.   

CHAP. XVI. How the Knight of Fame was entertained at the Golden Tower, and what speeches passed betwixt Anna and Angelica.  
AFter these speeches past, the King, Camillus, the Queen, Angelica, and all the rest, departed towards the Golden Tower: and by the way, Marcellus began to declare in hearing of them all, what her had heard of the Knight of Fame: of his valiant exploits in Thrace, and afterwards how in the Forest of Arde he slew the Giant Brandamor, which he uttered in such ample manner, and with such commendations, that it made them all admire his noble gifts: especially Angelica above all the rest, noted every circumstance thereof, with such regard, that she seemed to take great delight therein. The Knight of Fame hearing thereof, entertaining his Mistress perfections with such pleasure, and admiring her beauty with such surfeiting delight, that he road like one in a trance, having all his senses bend upon her.  
By this time they were comen to the Golden Tower where was exceeding preparation made for the King, who speaking to Camillus and the Knight of Fame, told them they were most heartily welcome thither: likewise the Queen welcomed them with great kindness, especially Marcellus care for the Knight of Fame's entertainment was very great, who caused him to be lodged in a most stately lodging, where every thing was readily prepared for him in the best manner. Every one being departed to their several lodgings, the knight of Fame meditating on his good fortune, and the kind entertainment he found in that strange place, weighing on the one side, how late he was plunged in care, and how suddenly he was possessed with pleasure, how from misery, he was advanced to the highest degree of his felicity: how he was lately in despair of finding his devoted, and how prosperously he had now met with her, and had in some part manifested his affection: how the occasion of his quarrel for his Lady's Glove, was the cause of his kind entertainment: how fortunately in that strange place his deeds were extolled: and how kindly Marcellus used him, whose acquaintance and friendship might be a means both of his stay in that place, and also of obtaining Angelica's love. Then again considering how strange it was that he should stay in the very place where his Lady should see him: and how suckily he had left the Court of the king of Lybia, and thereby he was rid from Venolas rash love, which might both hau● endangered his honour and person: that with the remembrance of all these happy concurrences, his mind was exceedingly contented, & ●ee se●med to have attained more happy success than he would have wished: that in that sun-path of sweet delight, accompanied with quiet sleep, he spent that night. Angelica was likewise no whit inferior to him in centrarietie of passions, but having likewise spent the day in company of her mother when the time of rest drew nigh, she soon g●t from out of all company which she thought troublesome, being much disquieted in her thoughts, feeling a kind alteration to her former liberty of mind, being desirous to be alone, she got to her chamber: where was none but her Damsel Anna, that was her bedfellow, to whom she said; I pray thee good Anna leave ●ee alone for a while, for my thoughts are possessed with such disquiet, that I desire by solitariness to ease my passionate heart.  
Anna hearing her speeches, marveling what might be the cause thereof, and being in all respects dutiful, departed. She was no sooner gone, but Angelica fitting down upon the rushes, leaning her head upon the beds side, began to study whence the occasion of that sudden alteration she fell in herself should proceed: sometimes deeming this, and then that, but still she could not certainly know what to judge thereof: that her mind was drawn so an extreme torment, which so oppressed her senses, that presently she called Anna again: who marveling at her strange behaviour, & grieving at her sadness, kneeling down by her, uttered these speeches. My dear M●stresse, I beseech you conceal not from me the occasion of your disquiet, to whose secrecy you need not fear to commit the same: for I hope you are sufficiently persuaded of my truth, that do esteem my duly so you more dear than myself, which I would most willingly spend for your sake: or if you will voucsafe to employ me any way, or in what sort so ever, so it please you to command, I will be most willing to use my uttermost endeavours, as faithfully as ever did servant, to purchase your content. Ay me wretched creature (quoth Angelica) it is not mistrust of thy secrecy, nor doubt of thy aid, nor ought else that I misdoubt in thee, that maketh me withhold any part of my counsel from thee: for if I would show it thee, I cannot, for this passion is so newly begun, that I cannot rightly conjecture what the cause thereof should be, or why my thoughts should be thus suddenly disquieted: and such assured confidence do I retain in thy fidelity, that I would conceal no part of my thoughts from thee.  
Anna hearing her mistress speeches, began presently to suspect that she had entertained some good conceit of some of the knights that were arrived that day, whom she thought to be the young Prince Camillus: which caused her make this answer. Dear Mistress (quoth she) I believe the approach of some of the gallant Knights that came with the King, is the cause of your alteration. Why (quoth Angelica) dost thou think their approach should disquiet me? Marry (quoth Anna) because many Ladies have been suddenly overtaken with love: wherewith Angelica blushed, saying. Dost thou think my affections so light, to look of every one I see?  
Pardon me dear Madam (quoth she) I do not think so. Well (quoth Angelica) suppose thou hast jumped upon the right, which of those knights dost thou suppose it is? Will you pardon me (said Anna) if I give my opinion? I will (said she.) I think (quoth Anna) it is the brave Prince Camillus. Camillus (quoth she) it is rather the stranger. Indeed (quoth An●●) that strange knight far surmounteth all the knights that ever I beheld, for comeliness, courtesy, and prowess. I am assured said Angelica (breathing forth a sad sigh) thou speakest this rather to flatter me, then according to that thou thinkest: for otherwise why didst thou speak of Camillus? Faith M●stresse (quoth she) I named Camillus, not for any thing I see in him comparable with the strange Knight, but for that I would thereby know your mind: which now that I understand, if you would follow my counsel, you should not only like him, but also love him: for there is no doubt but the cause of his coming hither, was only for your sake: who in my rash opinion, will prove both constant and loyal: for his very countenance bewrayeth the united essence of true Nobility and virtue to be placed in him.  
O Anna (quoth she) thou woundest me to the heart: before I had but a suspicion of love, but by thy speeches I begin to be enthralled therein. Do not I pray thee seek to augment that, which is impossible to come to perfection: which if I should entertain (as I shall I fear me against my will) thou knowest how many impossibilities do threaten my everlasting torment thereby: therefore I pray thee do not once name him to me again, for if thou dost, I shall be more enthralled to that very name, then to all the humble suttes of the most noblest knights in the world.  
Didst thou not hear my brother Marcellus report, how prodigally he gave away the king's daughter of Thrace? and what pains he took to redeem Venola, that beautiful Lady, from Andramarts Castle?  
I know thou didst: but likewise I know thou didst not hear what he said to me to refel these doubts, that he was long since enjoined to my service, and was the thing he had long time sought to attain.  
Didst thou not see how I found him a sleep, and yet notwithstanding all the Knights that guarded me, how resolutely (yet with humility) he approached my presence? where he told me, that not want of regard had bred that rudeness, but fear of missing that fit occasion, considering how straightly I am kept and pried into by my Father's decree?  
Didst thou not see how bravely and valiantly he overthrow three stout Knights together, that would have taken my glove from him? Dost thou not see how dearly my brother Marcellus loved him, and all in general are well affected towards him? These I think are occasions sufficient to refel all suspect of his good intent and meaning.  
Quoth Anna▪ Truly most gracious Madam, I think verily (all things considered) he hath not his equal, neither for valour, nor for Virtue. You may do as you please, whom I will not so much as once speak of hereafter, since I shall offend you thereby.  
Yes, I pray thee speak of him (quoth Angelica) for nothing can please me better, though I ●eare me nothing will do me more harm. And well mayst thou think me overfond▪ so ●oo●● to do entangled in the bonds of love, with a stranger, that I neither know of whence, nor what he is: of whom we have said enough at this time, therefore I pray let us defer any further commendation of him, until we have made better proof of his worthiness: which said, they betook themselves to their rest.  
Early the next morning the Knight of Fame was up, to whom Marcellus was soon gotten, who took no other delight, but only in his company, using him so kindly and so honourably, that the Knight of Fame marveled thereat, wondering whence such kindness should grow: that he likewise began greatly to affect his company, and being both come into the King's presence, who was accompanied by Camillus, they spent the forenoon in several discourses: likewise Angelica spent her time amongst the Ladies of great account, in such sort as agreed in their fancy.  
Dinner time being come, a most costly and sumptuous feast was prepared: whereunto Maximus invited all his Nobles, and Camillus and the Knight of Fame amongst the rest as his chiefest, where they were most honourably entertained, sumptuously feasted, and kindly welcomed.  
Camillus seeing that the Queen and Angelica were wanting, was suddenly fallen into a sad dump, because the Lady of his delight was absent: which the King noted more specially than all the rest, who supposing that Camillus came as a S●ter to his daughter, had of purpose given order to the Queen, that she should banquet the Ladies by themselves: which was so done, that neither Camillus nor any else perceived his drift therein, which made Camillus extreme angry with himself, that he had not the day before (when he enjoyed both her sight and full liberty of speech) in some measure given her knowledge of his love.  
The Knight of Fame on the contrary side, governed himself with more moderation, for he having attained such good success as his heart did wish, was therewith for the present contented: hoping that fortune that had been so favourable to him, would not suddenly alter her countenance, but still contiune her aid to his furtherance: whom Maximus likewise diligently noted, having suspicion that he likewise came for Augelicas' love, though he dissembled the contrary, of which he could perceive no likelihood by his merry countenance, which caused him only to suspect Camillus, and not him.  
The Feast being ended with great royalty, every one after some Courtly pastime past, betook themselves to what exercise liked them best. Camillus still accompanied the King, showing (for grief of Angelicus absence, such a kind of behaviour, as though his senses were bewitched with careless passions, which he noted diligently, thereby breeding in his mind, an assurance of his suspicion. The Knight of Fame had withdrawn himself into a Garden, and seeking the solitariest place he could find, began to recall the sweet remembrance of Angelica's beauty into his mind, whereunto he was more firmly enthralled, than he was before he had seen her, though even then his love was firm, having but seen her in a Vision, that he was now not only contented with that favour she had already shown him, but also devised and studied how to become more gracious in her sight, and attain some better hope of her love, which as yet he had not likelihood to attain. Whilst he was in the depth of these cogitations, Marcellus missing him, and seeing him before enter into the garden, never left until he had found him out, to whom he said. Sir Knight, I am somewhat bold to interrupt your quiet meditations by my approach, being desirous of your company: therefore if I may without intrusion accompany you, I will stay, otherwise I would be loath to breed your disquiet.  
Most noble Marcellus (quoth the Knight of Fame) I am not troubled with your presence, but think myself most happy to enjoy the same, as far unworthy such kindness: being a stranger here, think myself so highly honoured by your favour, that I shall account myself for ever bound unto you for the same: thinking myself more happy thereby then I could have wished, being before subject to all evil fortitude, account myself exceedingly fortunate by your kindness and friendship.  
I would it were in my power (quoth Marcellus) to deserve so well of you: being more willinger than able to pleasure you, for the report of your honourable gifts, hath made me long since desirous of your acquaintance, that if you please to stay with me in my father's Court, I will labour to show my good will towards you: and if you will accept of my plain meaning, without further trial, I will hereafter prove your faithful friend. Most courteous Knight (quoth he) I can yield no other recompense but hearty thanks for your kindness, which hath extended itself far beyond my desert, with so willing a heart accepting your kind proffers, ●hat before I prove disloyal, I will tear my heart from out my breast. Then (quoth Marcellus) let us conclude this sudden consent of good will, which for my part, shall never while life doth▪ last be dissolved.  
Desiring you hence forwards to make such account of me, that wherein soever I may in any degree pleasure you, I will as assuredly do my best, as in my power consisteth. With that they embraced each other: betwixt whom, such good will began to grow, as was both constant and indissolvable.   

CHAP. XVII. How Angelica was imprisoned: and how Maximus rebuked his son, for suffering the Knight of Fame to speak to Angelica.  
MArcellus having a while walked with him in the garden, desired him to accompany him into the Court to visit the Ladies, who (quoth he) are this day feasting by themselves. The Knight of Fame glad thereof, willingly gave his consent, being the only thing that contented his mind: and being come into the presence where the Queen was, and having done his reverence, she most kindly welcomed the Knight of Fame, telling Marcellus, that his coming was to see the young Ladies: whereat Marcellus▪ smiling, departed into a gallery, where were a multitude of sweet beauties, exercising themselves at several pastimes, some at Chess, some at Cards, and some in pleasant communication, whom Marcellus kindly embraced: but the Knight of Fame by reason he was a stranger, was not so bold, but having his mind dedicated to serve no other Saint but Angelica, looked for her, whom he espied at the further end of the Gallery in a heavy dump, leaning upon her elbow: who hearing Marcellus voice, looked back, and cast her eye first on the Knight of Fame, on whom she fastened a steadfast eye a good space: but remembering herself, with an exceeding blush, she withdrew the same, because she saw his eye settled on her.  
Marcellus by this time came towards Angelica, and perceiving her blushing countenance, caused him to note how melancholy she was alone, saying: How now sister, what solitary studi●●● that which hath withdrawn you from yonder peasant company? My mind (quoth she) is better exercised, by being sometimes alone then in their company: but since your presence hath broken my meditation, I can be well content to forsake the same to enjoy your company, which me thinks is very rare.  
I thank you good Sister (quoth he) assuring you, that I take it wondrous kindly, that you think so well of me, which hereafter you shall at your command enjoy: withal, I desire you for my sake to bid this Knight welcome, whom I esteem as dearly as myself: with that Angelica turned towards him, and he with humble reverence, kissed her hand, to whom Angelica said: Sir, by my brother's command I bid you welcome: the knight of Fame most humbly thanked her, being so exceedingly ravished in his mind with joy, that no joy might be compared to that he endured.  
Angelica on the other side was every way affected with as sweet content, by that opportunity to take a more precise view of his comeliness, entertaining the same with such surfeiting delight, that she not only augmented the heat of her former affection, but also was now fettered in the dissolueable bands of love.  
Marcellus and she continued sometime in conference together, in which time Angelica cast many a sweet look towards the knight of Fame, which he well perceived, by reason his eye was never off her, which she likewise noting, strived not to show the like kindness again, but notwithstanding contrary to her purpose, her hearts inward affection, constrained her to behold him, which made her colour go & come exceedingly: oftentimes breaking off her speeches with such passionate studies, & sometimes breathing a silent sigh, which Marcellus noted, but yet seemed not to mark. In the mean time, in comes the Queen, who calling Marcellus▪ unto her, entered into communication with him, which when Angelica beheld, her heart began to throb & pant with a kind of delight: the knight of Fame likewise was tormented with such diversity of passion, being desirous to speak to Angelica, yet not daring to attempt such boldness in presence of the Queen, having before heard of Maximus decree. Whilst he was in this cogitation, Anna seeing her Mistress alone, & the knight she so dearly loved hard by her, came and used some speeches unto her on him, which he well noted, at last the Queen departed again, and Marcellus went to sport amongst the rest of the Ladies, having before noted his Sister's passions, which he was in some suspicion was, by reason of the knight of Fame's being there.  
The knight of Fame seeing the Queen departed, and Marcellus amongst the Ladies, not rashly attempting such boldness, but with a most submiss and comely behaviour, drew towards Angelica (being surprised with such a fear to offend) and care what to say, that his heart shook therewith) and humbly kissing her hand, with a trembling fears he still held the same in his palm, and said: My divine Lady, pardon my presumption, that overboldly & contrary to my desert, presume to trouble your sacred ears with my speeches: which if I did suppose would be offensive, I would bury still in the closet of my troubled heart, from whence they proceeded: but if I may be so gracious in your sight, as to gain the sweet opportunity by your favourable licence, as to declare the depth of my devotion, & how & in what sort, and how long since I was enjoined to become your devoted servant, I shall rest so much more enthralled to your virtues, as my poor heart shall for ever be unable to yield sufficient thanks for: which I dare not presume to ●oo without your favourable consent, which I desire you to grant. Angelica all this while stood as one transformed into bashfulness, being possessed with delight, yet unwilling to make any show thereof, which caused an exceeding blush beautify her cheeks, which added some splendure to perfect beauty itself, which at all times appeared most lively in her sweet countenance: at last withdrawing her hand, which now began to sweat with his strict embrace, which he was unwilling to let go, yet fearful to hold without her consent, to whom she made this answer: Sir, where no harm is meant, there needeth no such entreatance for pardon, for the actual offence I see none, but if any be intended, it is more than I know, and therefore without my power to forgive: neither doth your speech much please nor offend me, but if spoken with good meaning, I cannot blame, nor will deny to hear an other time: withal, wishing you not to think me tractable to every persuasion, but have yielded you that favour, never yet any had at my hands: which peradventure imboldneth you to use your accustomed manner of flatteries, whereunto most men are addicted, wherein you shall do greatly amiss: for though I condescend to hear you, yet do not tinke my mind easily drawn to believe every protestation. Most virtuous Lady (quoth he) neither do my words proceed from custom, but my speeches proceed from the depth of my true and humble heart, that hath vowed never to start from the constant verity, which hath long nurced many bitter torments, proceeded by desire ●o find your virtuous self: which hath been the cause of my long travel▪ Then I most humbly beseech you, esteem of me as one that can breathe no longer than he is in your favour. For sooner shall all things be dissolved, than I fail in duty to your service, and constancy to continue devoted to your command: which if I may be in any hope to attain, though it be with the extreme hazard that ever knight endured, I shall account myself the most happiest man living. Therefore I beseech you, let no suspected conceit of my truth, withdraw your virtues from pitying me: for without the fruition of your sweet favour, it is impossible for me to live. Beseeching your excellency likewise, not to suppose my words to proceed from feigned affection, but from a heart that hath vowed to be perpetually constant, and will never start from truth, whatsoever miseries or crosses may happen to try my constancy▪ Angelica hearing his speeches, withal, noting with what motions and alterations his heart was oppressed, by the oft change of his countenance, and withal, being herself every way as much enthralled to love as himself, hoping that his heart, if it harboured true loyalty, would not deem amiss of his courtesy, (for the noblest minds are soon drawn to pity) gave him this kind reply.  
Sir knight, your earnest speeches hath so much prevailed with me, that gladly I would show you what kindness resteth in me, but that I still fear to be deceived: therefore if hereafter I see you constant, make no doubt but I will be so kind as you can wish▪ and yield you what recompense I can, in requital of your good will: withal, wishing you to think that my heart hath yielded you that favour, which yet never any had from me.  
Angelica had not ended those words, but in comes Maximus pu●●ing with vexation, to whom Collimus had declared, that the Knight of Fame was some disguised counterfeit, that came to seek Angelica's love (whereo● his life depended) and coming to him, seeing him in talk with his daughter, said. Knight (quoth he) what maketh thee thus bold, so far to presume above thy desert, to intrude thyself into my daughter's company, which thou knowest is contrary to my decree. Then taking Angelica by the arm, he thrust her from him, commanding Collimus (who was ready at hand) to commit her to safe custody: and upon pain of death, not to suffer any, not so much as his son Marcellus, to come to her speech: by whose means Collimus had told him, the knight of Fame was brought into her company.  
Collimus having this charge, which was his own seeking, immediately conveyed Angelica from their presence, who notwithstanding her father's presence and displeasure, turned back and gave the knight of Fame a kind look at her departure, which he well noted, and therewith conceived more joy, than he took grief at Maximus unkindness.  
By this time Marcellus was come to his father, who cast such a dis▪ pleasant countenance upon him, as that he well perceived he was someway incensed against him: wherewith the king in a great rage departed, not speaking a word to him. After he was gone, Marcellus coming to the knight of Fame (whose heart was ●●p● with grief) and noting his sad countenance, departed with him down into the garden: where being come, Marcellus said as followeth. Dear friend (quoth be) for by other name I will never call you) be not disquieted with my father's displeasure, who giveth too much credit to untrue reports: and that causeth him both to be offended with any that speaketh to my sister, and also suspicious of all that come into his own company, whereby he dishonoureth his own name, liveth a troublesome life, and also keepeth her as it were in prison, which I am sure can breed no little care in her breast, whose hard hap I much pity, and would any way ease, if it lay in my power.  
Most honourable knight (quoth he) I am most heartily sorry, that my over boldness hath causeth your father's displeasure, & that divine Ladies disquiet, which is more grievous unto me then death: which it was my accursed misfortune to procure, being drawn to that presumption by attractive beauty: wishing that I had some way ended this my accursed life, before my approach in this place, that thereby I might not have been so unfortunate, as to be a means of her care, and your disquiet: for that I see the King is likewise displeased with you. As for that take no care (quoth Marcellus) nor be so much grieved for my sister, for these troubles will be soon calmed: which to effect, let me alone. In the mean time, (whatsoever inward thoughts you conceive) yet smother your discontent, and show yourself cheerful as heretofore you have been: for I perceive that some of envy hath incensed my father, the truth whereof I will soon find out. Marcellus having ended these speeches, left the Knight of Fame walking in the garden, and presently without any show or sign of discontent, went into the presence, where he found the King in company of Camillus, according to his wonted manner doing his reverence, and taking his usual place. The King marveling how he durst so boldly presume into his presence, without reconcilement, thought that either want of duty had procured the same, or else he did not perceive he was displeased with him: to ease himself of which doubt, he said as followeth.  
Marcellus, I had thought your care would have been greater to regard my good, than any man's else, considering you know the depth of my secrets▪ as concerning Angelica, on whose beauty my life doth depend, and not so negligently and disobediently, not only to suffer that strange Knight to proffer love to her, but also to be a means to bring him into her sight, and help him to her speech, wherein you have shown yourself undutiful, which maketh me rather to suspect you as one ready to seek my life, then careful to preserve the same▪ My Lord and Father (replied Marcellus) I trust your Majesty do conceive no such 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉 deserved the same: much less● 〈◊〉 in thought 〈…〉 duty to your 〈◊〉 besides my Lord, I do alluredly believe, you 〈…〉 strange knight's meaning, whose intent is both honourable, and from the least thought of love to my Sister, but there are some in credit with your Highness, who disquiet you too much with their flatteries, and will rather rejoice to see all things fall out according to their reports, then be any way sorry to see the same: whose speeches and false informations, I trust shall not alter your good opinion of my loyalty: whose constant love, duty, and obedience, shall continue firm, when their treacheries shall be revealed, and they found traitors: therefore I beseech your Highness, both altar your conceived displeasure against me, and the knight of Fame, of whom so honourable report hath been spread in most places, for it will be accounted an act of great discourtesy, to use him unkindly.  
Maximus hearing his sons speeches, in accusation of them he most favoured, and in defence of the knight of Fame, against whom he was mightily incensed, was turned into such colour, that he gave him this rebuke. Darest thou both enviously accuse my friends, and disloyally plead for my enemy: henceforth presume no more into my sight, without my licence, for I will rather esteem thee as a privy enemy, then as my natural son. Which when he had said, turning aside; Marcellus departed, marveling who it should be that had incensed the King against him, being so inwardly grieved in his mind, that he thought to leave no means unassayed to learn the truth thereof. Angelica as before is said, being conveyed by Collimus to safe custody, began to conceive such sorrow for her father's dsipleasure taken against the Knight of Fame, unto whom she began to bear an exceeding love: such effect had his persuasive speeches wrought in her gentle heart) that she entered into exceeding sorrows, conjecturing diversly what disquiet that discontent might breed by reason of her father's jealous suspect already begun: and how the Knight of Fame might be abused in that strange place, having no friend to take his part, which thought struck a sudden pensiveness to her heart. Contrarily, she thought that would be a means to try his loyalty, which somewhat would have eased her heart, so that no other danger would have ●usued thereon. At last▪ having no other means of comfort, (nor friend to impart her mind unto) shovelled Anna unto her and willed 〈…〉 ●ow the 〈…〉 so discr●●●●●, that 〈…〉 presently went about th● business Angel●●●● 〈…〉 we leave them all in divers cogitations.   

CHAP. XVIII. How the Knight of Libya hearing that the Knight of Fame was in Anatolia, by Flavia's false accusation, sent messengers to Maximus, to entreat him to put him to death. How Maximus threw him into the lions den.  
AFter that the Knight of Fame was departed from Libya, and Venola had knowledge thereof by Flavia, she continued many days in great sorrow, but afterwards by tract of time calming her grée●e, but no whither affection, by Flavia's persuasions, who was privy to all her actions, turned her former good will that was grounded upon virtue, to lust and mad destre: that seeing she could not by fair means win him to her love, she thought to leave no means unassayed, either by force to compel him thereto or else in some measure to be revenged on him for his discourtesy. The mind being always ready by every persuasion, to yield to work any means for to procure desired content: even so she casting about many devices with Flavia, one day (finding fit opportunity when the King was in his dumps, for Venolas sickness) came unto him▪ and told him that the cause of his Daughter's sickness, was procured by an exceeding flight she had taken by the discourteous usage of the knight of Fame, who for that cause was lately fled from the Court, which until that day she had concealed from her, neither should she ever recover her self, until she were in some hope to be revenged of him.  
The King willed her to declare the same unto him. Flavia then began as followeth. My Lord, this Knight presuming o●ten into my Mistress presence, by reason of the kindness she showed him, for working her release in Brandamors Castle, (which he well deserved) began oftentimes to make love to her, whom she answered in good sort, being unwilling to make choice of any, but by your appointment: but in the end, his suits grew to that importunacy, that he would have no deviall, but coming into her chamber, choosing his fittest opportunity, when my Mistress was in her bed, and surprising her unawares, offered her exceeding shame and villainy, but being by her striving and outcry disappointed of his full intent, he presently fled away.  
The King hearing Flavia's speeches, was exceedingly iuraged with fury, commanding his knights to post every way, to learn where he made his abode. This news being spread at last came to a knight of Anatolia who by occasion was then in the Lybian Court who presently came to the king, and told him that he needed not ●o make inquyrie for the knight of Fame, for that he was ●t the Golden Tower. The King hearing that news, was excee●ingly glad thereof, commanding his knights to stay their journey writing a letter to Maximus, to this effect.  
MOst mighty King, I salute you: requesting you to work revenge in my behalf upon a traitor, who now remaineth with you, who hath dishonoured my Daughter: he is called the Knight of Fame: assuming that name to colour his wicked practices, who no doubt will soon devise some mischief against your person: let him not escape your hands, but rather send him to me, that I may revenge that monstrous injury he hath done me, by his life: which only shall satisfy me. Thus remembering my love to you, and desirng your secrecy, I cease.  
Your brother of Lybia.  
Having written this letter, and sealed it with his signet, he presently sent the same by certain of his knights to the Golden Tower, who as effectually dispatched their journey, as he had given them strait charge: and arriving at the Golden Tower, delivered the letter to Maximus, who having red the same, and well considered the circumstance, which augmented his hatred and suspi●ion already begun against the knight of Fame, presently coming to the place where he was in talk with Marcellus, he caused him to be apprehended, and without any other judgement, caused him presently to be cast into a den of Lions, to be devoured.  
The knight of Fame was no sooner put into the den, but the Lions made an exceeding roaring, that those without assuredly judged him devoured, and himself expected nothing but that terrible and ●ea●full death: but the Lions, who by nature will not harm those of Royal blood, spared his life, and not so much as offered▪ to touch him but were rather terrified with his presence. He being glad of this happy, escape, began to assure himself that he was sprung of Kingly race, which greatly comforted his heart, and added a persuasive hope to comfort himself withal, that by that occasion he should attain to Angelica's love, if he could work means for his releasement out of that place: most of all he wondered why. Maximus had offered him that outrage. In these and such like cogitations he spent the rest of the day.  
Marcellus seeing the Knight whom he most dearly loved destroyed, without judgement, equity, or cause, was so inwardly▪ enraged, that he was in mind oftentimes to work himself injury, and seek means of revenge, if he knew who had been the causer thereof: and not knowing what to do, nor in whose company to spend his time, he presently thought to go to Angelica, whom he thought bare some good will to the knight of Fame, with her to bemoan his untimely death: but coming to the place where she was, he would have entered therein, but Collimus according to Maximus command, denied him, and that the more obstinately, for that he knew none favoured the knight of Fame so much as he, whom he mortally hated.  
Marcellus▪ being before sufficiently enraged, was now so much more vexed, that he drew his dagger, and with a violent blow stabbed the same to Collimus heart: and withal going to Angelica, he found her very sad, little thinking of these mischances, who seeing him in that rage, which she soon perceived by his behaviour, she came unto him, (having seated himself down in a chair) and desired to know the cause of his wrath.  
O Sister (quoth he) this place is the harbour of cruelty, tyranny, and dishonour, which in times past hath been famous, and a receipt of honour, but shortly will be hated and sh●nned, as odious & omniminious, and all procured by the foolish Divining of a wicked Harlot, that hath filled my Father's head with such fancies, that he forgetteth himself, his honour, and Kingly behaviour, and giveth credit to none but flat▪ terers, and parasites, imprisoning his children, murdering his friends, and seeking the subversion of honour and honourable knights. Oh Angelica, what should I say, or to whom should I complain? he hath slain virtue, he hath destroyed honour, he hath murdered my dear friend, that kind and courteous knight: he hath cast the unknown (most honourable though unknown) Knight of Fame, into the Lions, den: without judgement, justice, right, offence, or trial. Angelica hearing his words, was ready to sound with grief, but that fear to discover her love withheld her: but being not able to refrain from tears, she withdrew herself aside to conceal the same, which Marcellus espying, caught her in his arms, and said. Nay dear Sister, do not conceal your grief for his death from me, that love you so much the better▪ and if you ever conceived any good liking of him, I shall honour you for the same: for he was worthy to be beloved of the best Lady in the world: for in him shined all parts and points of true Knighthood and honour. I cannot (quoth Angelica) deny, but that I liked and loved him too: neither shall I ever do otherwise whilst I live, though he knew not so much: for whose death, my heart shall never harbour quiet, nor never shall thought of other love si●ke into my breast: for him had I vowed to love, and that vow will I keep inviolable, whilst life doth last.  
Oh Angelica (quoth Marcellus) had I known you had loved him so well, I would have died with him, but I would have saved his life, which was so suddenly acted, and so unexpected, that before I could recover my senses from amazement, he was past my reach. What cause had my Father think you, to seek his destruction, but because he saw him in speech with you? Ay me (quoth Angelica) was I the cause of his death? I will then go to him: with that, such grief oppressed her heart, that she fell down in his arms.  
Marcellus called to her Maids, who presently came thronging about her, marveling at her sudden sickness: and especially Anna, who was privy to her thoughts, & hearing Marceilus speeches, made great lamentation. This news was soon come to the Queen's hearing, who presently came running unto the place, and having by her labour recovered her, enured into these speeches. Why how now Angelica, what mean●st thou to do thyself this wrong? What m●●chance or sudden passion hath caused this disquiet? Then turning to Marce●lus, Or can you tell Marcellus (quoth she) for you were by▪ I know not quoth he) but I am sure we have all cause of little joy, when we that are the King's children▪ shall be imprisoned upon the flattering report of every dissembling Sycophant. Why quoth she who hath abused you? That did Collimus (qd he) & him I have rewarded. Besides, my Lord and Father hath destroyed that honourable strange knight, because I loved him, who never deserved the least cause of such cruelty, but was always honourably esteemed in every King's Court▪ until it was his ill hap to arrive in this unfortunate place, to end his life by Tyranny, not by justice▪ Take heed Marcellus, scandalise not your Father's honour, which may bring you in danger: for that he hath done nothing but right, and with good consideration, for behold that letter, and thou shalt soon see what a counterfeit that Knight of Fame was.  
Marcellus having red the letter, was at the first suddenly amazed thereat, but yet notwithstanding, he s●id: upon my life this accusation is most false and untrue. Angelica taking the letter, and ●●ating the same, was exceedingly astonished thereat, to whom Marcellus said. Angelica believe it not, for if you do, you shall too much wrong that honourable Knight, that is too much abused already, who if he were living, would soon prove these accusations false: but he good Knight is now dead▪ and past recalling, whose death will bring more dishonour to the Natolians, then ever will be recovered. Why (quoth the Queen) what maketh thee Marcellus so inconsiderate, by taking a stranger's part, to endanger thy own life, which knowest the king's humour? Love (quoth he) to that stranger, maketh me bewail his untimely death, whom I would that I had excused.  
The Queen seeing Angelica somewhat well recovered, departed unto Maximus, who by that time had knowledge of Collimus death, & was meditating how to chastise Marcel▪ for th●t presumption: But the Queen upon her knees entreated him to pardon him, alleging that Collimus had greatly abused him: with much a do the King was pacified.  
Marcellus having somewhat comforted Angelica, in a heavy and sad estate, departed to his chamber, and left her with her Damozell Anna, rather ready to yield up the Ghost, than otherwise likely to survive: and night being come▪ she refusing meat, went to her bed, not to sleep, but to bewail the knight of Fame's untimely death.  
The knight of Fame all this time remained in the lions den, carefully devising which way to get out of that place, ●yring his senses, but finding no means of rele●se. Our while accusing his hard fortune, and then Maximus for his cruelty. Sometimes fearing to be famished in that place: and then comforting himself with persuasions of impossible deliveries. Now despairing to be utterly exempt from the sweet sight of Angelica, whose absence and restraint of liberty (procured as he thought by his boldness) pinched his heart with extreme forture.  
In this sort he continued so long, until that he was ready to be starned, and constrained to eat such unsavoury ●oode as was daily cast to the Lions. Angelica likewise no whit mitigated her grief but rather augmented the same: being much comforted by Marcellus, whose mind was not yet satisfied with sufficient consideration of these mischances, but both he and Angelica continued as it were in a further hope in their fancies, of the knight of Fame's safety: though when they began to comfort themselves with any persuasions, they were quite past hope. Maximus likewise having considered with what severity he had used the knight, and that he had condemned him without any trial of the accusation that had been used by his knights, ever since his death, (began to tell a remorse in his conscience of unjustice) but by the settled opinion that was stirred in his heart by those false Prophecies, he soon shook the same off.  
Camillus all this time, likewise noted what jealous suspicion the king heard of him, and having heard the report why he kept his daughter so strongly guarded, and of set purpose withheld her from his sight, and noting how suddenly the knight of Fame was made away, without any cause of offence given, he began to fear himself, and by that means, dared not show any sign of desire to see Angelica, lest by that means he should seek some occasion of quarrel with him, and use him like the stranger: within a while departed from the Golden Tower, intending notwithstanding, either with force, or fair means, to attain her possession.   

CHAP. XIX. Of the Knight of Fame's preservation. How he got out of the den, and departed the Tower.  
THe next day after Camillus' departure, which Maximus perceived was with a discontented mind, the keeper of the lions den, came to make clean the same, and used his wonted manner, which was to set open those places that were clean, into which the Lions would soon enter, and having fast bolted the doors, and being owner of the Lions, entered into the den, where the Knight of Fame was, who suddenly caught hold on him, (having before secretly shrouded himself from his sight) and being careful to provide for his own safety, snatched from his side a hanging sword: the keeper knowing him, marveling to see him alive, and exceedingly astonished at his sight, held up his hands for mercy, to whom the knight of Fame said. My friend, I seek not thy life, but mine own safety, being as thou seest, preserved by Divine providence, from the King's cruelty, by him unjustly cast into this place, without any cause of offence: but wrongfully, as thou mayest perceive by my preservation: for if my fact had deserved punishment, no doubt I could not have escaped the cruelty of these executioners, having endured great danger of famishment. Now my request unto thee is, that thou wouldst but suffer me to depart from hence, without descrying me▪ for I have no reason to trust to Maximus courtesy, having already e●bured this misery by his Cruelty: which thou mayest well do, without endangering thyself any kind of way, for there is none but doth assuredly think I am dead.  
The keeper hearing his speeches, and withal seeing how admyrably he was preserved, and also fearing his own death, assured him by many vows and protestations, not only to do that which he had desired, but also would most faithfully execute what other thing soever he should command, to his uttermost power. Wilt thou then (quoth he) do this for me? give me the keys, and make fast the door so that thou canst not go from me, and then call down thy boy and send him to Marcellus, to request him to come to thee, but in such sort, that the boy may not see me, and also to do his message secretly: which the keeper told him, he would most willingly perform. Then directing the Knight of Fame how to lock the door, that he could not escape, he called down his boy, who presently came to him whom he commanded to seek out Marcellus secretly, and to desire him, that he would vouchsafe to come and speak with him, about a matter of great importance. The boy having received his message, immediately hasted to execute the same: and most fortunately met him in the outer court, to whom he declared the cause of his coming. Marcellus marveling why the keeper had sent for him, presently began to remember the knight of Fame, with which his heart began to throb: but hasting down to the den, the keeper commanded his boy to departed: & humbling himself to Marcellus, told him that the knight of Fame was still living. Which said, he ran in unto him (who had shrouded himself from his sight) and told him Marcellus was come: then presently he came forth, whom Marcellus espying, with great rejoicing, caught him in his arms, and most lovingly embraced him, seeming to be revived with joy, in respect of the care oppressed his mind before he had knowledge of his safety. Many courteous greetings passed on either side, Marcellus desired the keeper not to reveal this secret to any: for if it should come to my father's hearing, it were impossible then to prevent his rigour: and withal promised him, that if he would let him lodge in his house but that night, he would reward him most beautifully: and withal promised him to higher dignity, and to such place of account as that he should have good cause to rejoice, that ever the knight of Fame came within his house. The keeper both drawn by his own good inclination, and also by the hope of reward and preferment, being but poor, promised his uttermost aid and assistance to pleasure him, and withal, to perform his full desire, with such security, that none should conceive any suspicion thereof: with that they all together departed up into his Lodge, where the Knight of Fame refreshed himself with comfortable meats, being exceedingly glad (as he had good cause) of this success: and rendering many thanks to Marcellus (who well deserved the same.)  
Marcellus being yet somewhat troubled in his mind about the Letter the King of Lybia had sent, and desirous to be satisfied of the truth therein, taking the Knight of Fame aside, from the hearing of the keeper, said as followeth.  
Sir knight, although I have shown you this favour and friendship, which my fancy often persuaded me to refuse, yet urged by the good well I bear you, and for other considerations which I will yet conceal from you, I could not choose but rejoice at your safeite, and work what means I can for your preservation: yet there remaineth a grudging in my conscience against you, until you assure me by your faithful oath, to satisfy me of the truth of my doubt without fraud: for if that be true which is alleged against you, by the affirmation of a King, you deserve the punishment my Father inflicted upon you, and rather to be generally hated, then beloved at all. Most honourable knight (quoth he) I know myself so clear from all such villainy, as that I swear, and protest by my life, by Heaven, and by all the good that ever I expect, which I desire to turn to my destruction, if I tell you not the very truth.  
Then (quoth Marcellus) the same day that the King my Father caused you to be thrown into the Lion's den, the king of Lybia sent hither certain of his Knights with a Letter, wherein he accused you to have most shamefully deshonoured his Daughter Venola, desiring my Father to dispatch you out of the way: for your li●e & nothing else might appease his ire: which was the cause of his cruelty.  
My Lord (quoth the knight of Fame) upon mine honour, my former oath, and by all other truth and fidelity, this accusation is most unjust, false, and untrue: which if I may by your savour (in whose hands life now resteth) have liberty to approve, I will maintain the contrary, even in the gates of the king of Lybia, and cause my accusers to confess the contrary: neither did I ever seek love at that Lady's hands, by whose dishonourable means this false accusation is raised against me.  
Dear friend (quoth Marcellus) you have said enough, and I rest assuredly satisfied of your loyalty. The knight of Fame was so inwardly vexed with this accusation, that he was half mad wi●●h greet, but chief for that he thought it was come to Angelica's hearing, & might be a means to cause her utterly to forsake him: which appalled his sances with extreme vexation, that he stood like one transformed.  
Marcellus perceiving his discontent, desired him not so be grieved, but to overpass the same, until he had means to prove the contrary.  
My Lord (replied he) how can I choose but be sorry, when thereby I am dishonoured in every man's opinion, which I account more dearer than my life? Besides, with what impatiency may I show myself before any knight living, but rather rid my hated self out of this miserable life, which is the next way to salve this blemish? But if you will vouchsafe to hear the true report of the miseries I have endured ever since my birth, you would say that I am the only map of sorrow, and borne to perpetual calamity. I desire nothing more (quoth Marcellus) with that he rehearsed to him all that he could, of his bringing up in the Island of Rocks, his departure from thence, and shipwreck at Sea: how he was entertained by D. Amasenus in Thrace, and the treachery that was intended against him there, by Corus and Argalus▪ then of his success in the King's Court of Thrace, and the occasion why he departed from thence to the Forest of Arde: and how there he met the Prince of Bohemia, and released Venola: then how Venola sought his love, and how she gave him (by subtlety) a somniferous potion, to withhold his departure with Parismus, which he purposed: and how afterwards perceiving her intent, departed from thence.  
Withal, he declared the manner of the vision that appeared unto him in Thrace, and how that he was thereby enjoined to seek out the Lady that appeared to him, and sue for her love, which was the cause that he both refused phylena's marriage, and Venolas proffer of kindness: and also he declared how he first arrived in that country, and met Angelica, which was the very same Lady that appeared unto him in the vision: and also told him, that he was likewise enjoined to seek out his Parents, which the vision told him were of great birth. This (quoth he) is the true discourse of my forepast life, which I never yet manifested to any but yourself, whose favour hath far surmounted my desert, into whose hands I commit my life to be disposed of: desiring you not to conceive amiss of me, for that false accusation, being most untrue.  
Marcellus again embracing him in his arms, desired him likewise, not to think that he did any way conceive the least evil opinion of him, but that he did esteem of him, as of the dearest friend he had in the world, and that he did both love and honour him as himself, ●and would never forsake him whilst he lived, but continue his faithful friend for ever. Having in this sort made a new league of amity▪ Marcellus left the Knight of Fame to his private meditations, promising to return to him very shortly, going directly to Angelica, whom he found continuing her wonted sadness, for she could ●y●e means be comforted, but still augmented her love, by remembering the knight of Fame's person, to whom she bore such entire afflictions, that she resolved never to love any other Knight, but determined to spend the whole date of her life in single ●state.  
Marcellus sudden approach broke off her silent pensiveness, by his countenance showing a heart replenished with joy which he uttered in this sort. Angelica (quoth he) cast off this sad countenance, for I bring you news of more comfort, for the knight of Fame is living, and preserved qy admirable means. Oh brother (quoth she) this new a cannot be true, which will nip my heart with grief to hear of, and be disappointed therein. Sister (quoth he) it is so neither marvel thereat, for his innocence in the fact la●d to his charge, hath I think caused the Gods to pity him: beside, thereby you may be assured, he is borne of royal blood, who is now in the keeper's house in safety, with whom I have been these two hours: now cast ●ff those stormy discontents and clouds of care, for there is no further cause of disquiet for his supposed death.  
Angelica then verily peléeving his words, said. Good brother, fell me how he doth, for whose safety I rejoice? for of all the knights that ever I beheld, I never liked nor loved any so well, desiring you withal, to keep my counsel, (having bewrayed my secrets to none else) and not to let him know so much as I have told you. Then should both you and I do him wrong (quoth he) for he hath well deserved love, and especially at your hands, to whom by his own report, he hath long ago dedicated himself, and not only of his own inclination, but of a high command: for the truth of which, he hath upon trust of my secrecy, revealed to me, which you shall likewise hear: then he discoursed the whole truth, even as the Knight of Fame had before done● which when she heard she said. What a discourteous Lady is that Venola, to seek the overthrow of so worthy a Knight? and how may I esteem him, that before he knew me, was so constant in his love, without hope of my favour, and refused the proffered love of two such Ladies for my sake? beside the peril he hath endured in my search, and peradventure is sprung of greater birth than myself. And now also by my Parent doom, was put in that hazard of his life. Good brother be you careful of his good, and whatsoever you shall counsel me too, I will do: if my Father should know of his safety, than were there no means for him to escape death: for such a hard conceit of suspect doth possessed his mind, that he hateth all those that bear me any show of good will. Well sister (quoth Marcellus) rest you contented, and still continue your love towards him, to increase & not diminish the same, who is by destiny allotted to be your husband: the care of whose welfare let be my charge: for I so much love and esteem him both for his own and your sake, that I will leave no means unassayed, whereby to do you good: which said, he again departed to the knight of Fame. By this time the dark night approached, and Marcellus and the knight of Fame were devising what means to use for his safety, and to procure the desired content Angelica expected, who before had given her consent to be ruled by her Brother: that by the assurance he had of her, he put the knight of Fame in assured comfort of her love, by relating in some sort, the contents of Angelica's conference before had with him, which affected his heart with greater joy, than ever before he had endured grief: that his escape from death did not comfort his heart so much as this happy news. At last Marcellus said: Noble knight, you see how strictly my Father guardeth Angelica, that there is no means left to ease your grief or her care by tarrying here: neither can you without great hazard of your life, remain within the circuit of this Tower: for that my Father suspecteth every one, yea his own children, whereby we are tired with those troubles, and would willingly wo●ke any means to ease ourselves: especially Angelica hath been mewed up so closely, that she I am sure would undertake any thing to enjoy her liberty, were it in never so poor estate, wherein in my opinion is many thousands of sweet contents to be found, rather than in this troublesome Pomp, which is  with infinite cares. Therefore this is my censure, that you shall this night (as I will direct you) depart from hence, and go to S. Augustine's Chapel, not far hence, and there stay for me, until to morrow morning, where remaineth an old religious Priest, named jabine▪ who if you say you come from me, will give you entertainment: which when you have done, I will so work with my Sister Ange●ica, that he shall condescend by such means as I will work for her secret escape, to come to you: by which I hope I shall end the doubts that possess my father's mind, rid their Country of the scandal it is likely to run into: and work both mine own, yours, and Angelica's content: for so dearly do I love her, that had I many lives to lose, I would hazard them all to work her releasement: for were she once married, then should the date of the foolish prophecy have an end. The Knight of Fame hearing his speeches, which only tended to work the content, he above all things in the world sought, could not well contain himself from expressing immeasurable joy, but yielding many humble and hearty thanks to Marcel●us both commended his devise, and also entreated him to go forward with the same.  
Then Marcellus called the keeper, ask his counsel if he knew any devise whereby the Knight of Fame might get out of the Castle promising him a good reward: and withal, pulling from his neck a chain of gold, gave him the same. The keeper being enticed with this reward, (gold having that force, to make things impossible come to effect) presently told them, he had a devise that might go for currant, if the knight would undertake the same. I have my Lord (quoth he) a vessel of great largeness, which sometimes sorted for other uses, which if we could devise to let down into the Lake, he might easily in that get over on to the other side: which devise Marcellus and the Knight of Fame both liked. And about midnight, when all things were at rest, they put this same in practice, and by a Rope let the vessel down, which swum most currently.  
Then fastening a Rope about the Knight of Fame's middle, after that (with many fair promises and protestations of perpetual friendship) they had taken their leaves, the keeper and Marcellus let him down, who was so heavy by reason of the weight of his own body and his armour, that they had much ado from letting him fall, and being in the vessel, was like to sink the same. But with much ado and great danger of drowning, by reason of the tottering and unstaidness of the vessel, which with every little weight more on one side then on the other, was ready to turn over, he got on to the bank, which was so steep upwards, that he had much ado to climb up the same, but was oftentimes ready to fall down backwards into the Lake under him, which was of an exceeding great and huge depth: but having happily escaped both those dangers, he departed towards Saint Augustine's Chapel, according to such directions Marcellus had given him to find the same. Marcellus and the keeper drew up the Vessel, and betook themselves to their rest.  
The Knight of Fame had not well remembered Marcellus speeches, and therefore having gone some half mile from the Golden Tower, fearing to wander out of the way, he took up his lodging under a Cypress Tree, spending the whole night in manifold meditations, of the success of this business: being oftentimes in great despair of ever seeing Angelica again, drawn to that fear, by reason of Maximus jealousy, and the diligent watch he had set in every corner of the Tower, but especially at the entrance, where none went out and in, but the gardiants searched them, that his mind was sometimes wracked with despair, and sometime animated to comfort by the assured trust he had in Marcellus. The night being by him in this sort spent, in the morning he betook himself again to his journey, and with ease found out Saint Augustine's Chapel, & knocking at the Chapel door, it was long before any came, but at last he espied old jabin standing behind him, who had been abroad very early, and then returned, whom the Knight of Fame most kindly saluted. jabin marveling to see one in Armour, demanded what he would have?  
Right reverend Father (quoth he) I am sent to you by Marcellus, whose request is, that you would for his sake vouchsafe my secret abode with you until his coming, which will be this day, if contrary occasion hinder him not. jabin noting his comely proportion, and willing to do any thing for Marcellus sake, brought him into his Cell adjoining to the Chapel, and welcommend him so kindly as he could.   

CHAP. XX. How Marcellus intending to carry Angelica to Saint Augustine's Chapel, was prevented by Camillus. And how the Knight of Fame departed to seek his Parents.  
MArcellus early in the morning, came to Angelica, who still continued pensive, to whom he declared what had passed betwixt him and the Knight of Fame, and withal of the promise he had made him to bring her to Saint Augustine's Chapel. Which when Angelica hearing, she said: Brother, how can this be effected, when you see so many impossibilities to hinder our intent, that we shall but spend much labour to little effect, and also rather bring my father's heavy displeasure against us, then reap any comfort? whose cruelty you see is such, that he will if he should find out our drift, punish v● with severity: beside, if it should come to that pass, what excuse could you find to pacify his ire? Therefore I think it best, that we never hazard ourselves, but rather be contented with this quiet estate, lest a worse mischance light upon us thereby.  
Sister (quoth Marcellus) your counsel is good, but yet hear what I shall say: the life you lead is but miserable, being kept like a prisoner, whereas, it you could but win this liberty, you should enjoy your fill of hearts content, and be a means to rid my father and us all, from the doubts we may now endure. Besides, if you loved that worthy knight▪ whose constancy to you wards is without compare, you would for his sake refuse no peril. Why brother (quoth she) what need you make any such doubt when I have said sufficient already, unless you think me to dissemble? for such is my love and good will, that I will more willingly undertake any means to attain his company, than he can desire: not drawn by your persuasion, but of my own voluntary will: which have made some doubt of this attempt, because I am fearful of your ill, and careful of your good: but whatsoever you shall counsel me unto. I will execute. Which said, they began to study and consult how to bring their business about: but were so confounded in their thoughts, that they thought it altogether impossible.  
Now Maximus being rid of Camillus' company, and assured of the knight of Fame's death, gave his mind to more quiet, then during the time of their being there he had done: and being wearied with care, thought to recreate himself by some exercise: therefore he appointed the very same day to ride on hunting: and to that intent he was early up, sending for Angelica to go with the Queen, even at the instant when she was devising with Marcellus: which opportunity fell out most conveniently to further their intent, which Marcellus told her he would determine of.  
Angelica immediately went down with the messenger: and with the King and Queen, Marcellus and divers others departed out of the tower. Marcellus all that day kept diligent company with Angelica, until the King being earnest in pursuit of the g●ine, strayed from them: the Queen likewise was absent, and most of Angelica's gardiants, saving some six, being indeed such as Marcellus had before made privy to his intent, who had firmly protested to keep his counsa●le●: which opportunity Marcellus took, and presently conveyed Angelica towards Saint Augustine's Chapel: being without the Park, when they thought themselves far enough from the King, they were unawares set upon by a company of strange knights, who offered by force to carry away Angelica.  
Marcellus being somewhat▪ astonished thereat, drew his sword; and being before well provided, withstood them▪ Angelica's gardiants did the like: that on a sudden there began a cruel combat betwixt them, until Marcellus was grievously wounded, one of his company slain, and the rest in as great danger as might be: but being a knight of exceeding courage, he defended himself most valiantly. So long continued the fight, that in the mean time, some of the king's company, having the charge of Angelica▪ mist her, which he soon declared to the king, who commanded his knights to post every way: by several troops: himself and the Queen well guarded, took the readiest way out of the Park: which was the same way Marcelius and Angelica had taken, and hasting, came to the place where they were, in the hottest of their skirmish.  
The strange knights espying the King, presently fled away, with all possible speed, whom many of the Natolians pursued so far, until they might descry a band of Soldiers: wherewith they returned with all expedition possible, and certified the King thereof, who presently hasted to the Golden Tower, with the Queen, Marcellus, and Angelica in his company: and by reason of the strangers he saw in fight with Marcellus, he had not the least suspicion of Angelica's intended flight: and marveling what that Army should mean, he ●ent out spies to view of what ●orce they were, who having done in all points accordingly, they went and certified him that they were ten thousand Soldiers, but they could not discern under whose conduct.  
Maximus fearing the worst, presently sent letters to the Nobles of his Land▪ with all expedition to muster up their forces, and to convey them to the Golden Tower: and also caused most diligent watch and ward to be kept.  
Marcellus being most gréevosly wounded, was likewise with all care tended by the King's Physicians, to whom Angelica repaired: and being with him alone, she said as followeth.  
What misery awaiteth my hard destiny, that am thus desasterly detained from my wished content? my evil presaging mind, did foretell this misfortune, which hath thus frustrated our desire, and which is more miserable, brought you to this dangerous estate: but most of all withheld me from the sight of my beloved, and causeth him both to augment his cares, and suspect our loyalty. What will he think when he seethe no performance of that which was promised, but still stayeth for our coming, and yet be frustrated? for the knowledge of our mischance, can by no means come to his hearing. Would to God that I had ended my accursed life, by the hands of those enemies rather than to have survived to endure this extreme care. No hard fortune can be compared to that I endure, no care comparable to my grief.  
First to see you thus grievously wounded: next to be disappointed of our desire: and lastly to frustrate the knight of Fame of his expectation. What shall we now do? how shall we recure this mishap? or what means is there left, that may add the least comfort to our hearts in this extremity? In stead of the content I expected by enjoying his presence, I am returned to my wonted bondage: and see my friends almost murdered and environed with foes. Peace peace (quoth Marcellus) good Angelica, cease these complaints, and in this extremity, imitate the old phrase: make a virtue of necesss●tie, and with patience awayle for better success: for now in these perplexities, there is small hope of present amendment: for that worthy knight no doubt is of such wisdom and prudent government, that be will judge the best of our state, and carefully provide for his own safety. With that Angelica burst forth into abundance of t●a●es, s●ying. Ay me poor wretch, I wall never then see him again. With that she departed, wring her hands, and making great lamentation, that Marcellus seeing her sorrow, was ready to work his own decay by his vexation.  
Now those bands of Soldiers belonging to Camillus, who presently after his departure from the Golden Tower, enduring many restless Passions, for the want of Angelica's presence, with whom he was full greatly in love: with all speed mustered up those forces, and brought them by shipping towards the Tower, with intent to besiege the same, and suddenly to surprise Maximus unawares, and so to get the possession of Angelica: and coming towards the Golden Tower with a few in his company, whilst the rest marched after him, he met Marcel●us and Angelica, and knowing them, thought without any more trouble to take her away, but was disappointed as is declared.  
The Knight of Fame being with old Iabine, spent much part of the day in conference with him, marveling that he heard not from Marcellus▪ but when it was dark night, his mind was racked with exceeding care and vexation, and being without any hope of his coming, he was as much grieved how to satisfy Iabine, whom he thought would now suspect him of falsehood: and might suppose he came not from Marcellus. Therefore he said as followeth.  
Father, I marvel that I have not heard fr●m Marcellus, according to his promise, which maketh me think that some cross mischance hath hindered him, that may breed in you some misconceit of me, that have in his name come unto you, which if you do, you shall much injury me: for it was he that sent me hither, as I could assure you by divers probable reasons.  
Sir knight (quoth he) I pray be not troubled with any such thought, for you are welcome to me, though Marcellus had not sent you, which I make no doubt of, but so well do I love him, as that whosoever cometh in his name, shall by the strict observance I bear to that name, command me any service.  
Afterwards they went to their repast, with such sparing diet as the Priest used, and after supper to bed: where the knight of Fame could take no rest at all, but yet lay very quietly, because he was loath to trouble his Host: with which restraint of liberty of speech and other passions that oppressed his senses, he endured that tedious night in great forment, which seemed longer than many nights would have done, if he might have had liberty to utter his lamentations, which boiled in his breast like the violence of a mighty flame penned within a small compass.  
Early the next morning, jabine went forth for to provide food, and left the knight of Fame alone, who then uttered many complaints, but at last finding fault with himself for urging that effeminate kind of lamentation, he striving to overmaster his passions, which the more he laboured to assuage▪ the more they ●ncreased.  
In this sort he continued all that day and the next, and many days after, still being in good hope of Marcellus approach: but when he saw so long time past, and he could hear no news from him, he began to accuse him of discourtesy and disloyalty, for breaking his promise: and withal, grew into a settled persuasion, that both he and Angelica had quite forsaken him: which added grief to grief, and more care and vexation to his minds, not knowing what to do, nor which way to shape his course: that arming himself one day, he mounted himself, and wandered in a melancholy study towards the golden Tower, and by chance met with two of Maximus knights, who were exceedingly astonished at his sight, taking him to be a ghost: but he drawing nigh to tham, they began to fly, which he perceiving, thought to stay the one of them, to have some further speech with him, that charging his lance at him, and hitting him full, overthrew him to the ground: the other being therewith exceedingly terrified, fled▪ The Knight of Fame alighting, coming to him that he had overthrown, thus said.  
Knight, thou needest not to have stead from me, for I intended thee no harm, but was desirous to know some news of thee, which if thou wilt tell me, I will let thee departed: otherwise, thou shalt never escape my hands▪ The knight marveling to hear him speak, whom he thought had been a ghost, made this reply▪ Pardon me good sir, for I took you to be another than I see you are, but if I may know what you will command me, I will do it. (Quoth he) tell me how fareth Marcellus? Sir (quoth he) at this instant he lieth very weak, by reason of many grievous wounds he received not long since: where he declared the whole truth of that which had happened by Maximus means, since which time (quoth he) the King hath set such secret watch about the Tower, that none goeth in nor out without his privity.  
The Knight of Fame having heard his speeches, departed back to Iabine, to whom he declared the truth of all that he had heard, being very sorry for Marcellus hurt, and well w●ying every circumstance of that report, thought that when▪ Marcellus was gotten with Angelica out of the Park, so slightly attended, it was to come to him: which added some comfort to his heart, being fully assured thereby, that Angelica had not forsaken him.  
By this time the Natolian that escaped from the Knight of Fame, was come to the Golden Tower, and coming before the King, told him that he had met the knight of Fame: whereat he began to laugh: but presently came the other, who justified the same words: alleging that it was the knight of Fame, and that he had both talked with him, and knew him, affirming the same most constantly. Maximus wondering thereat, was almost astonished at their words, that he determined to send all his knights to search for him, and the occasion now must fitly serve: for the Nobles had according to his command, gathered a number of forces together, which Camillus swing, being unprovided to withstand such force, but coming for another intent, immediately returned with his soldiers towards his country, and Maximus now seeing the coast clear of enemies, presently sent forth Knights every way to find the Knight of Fame.  
Thus news was soon come to Marcellus and Angelica's hearing, which filled their hearts with exceeding care and fear, least he should be apprehended: this bred new sorrows in their troubled thoughts, bu● principally in Angelica's, whose love was grown to such perfection, that it was impossible for to remove the same: that getting to her chamber, she ●ntred into many heavy complaints, able ●o have rend the stoniest hearts of the cruelest tyrants: whom Anna comforted by all means she could devise: to whom Angelica said. Oh Anna (quoth she) little dost thou know the torments my heart doth endure, for wert thou so much enthralled as I am & to so worthy a knight as he is, thou mightest then have some insight into my sorrows, but bring ignorant therein, how canst thou give me counsel? have I not cause to sorrow? nay rather to run mad with sorrow, to see the danger that worthy knight is now in, having so lately escaped a most miserable death, by my Father's censure? and without cause, who not contented therewith, nor satisfied in his mind, hath now sent out many knights to search for him: who if they find him, will bring him back, o● by violence destroy him, whose death shall be the end of my life: for I have vowed, if my Father seek his ruin, he shall also see my death, for I will not live one hour after him: in which complaints she still continued without intermission.  
It fortuned most happily, that jabine was gone forth of S. Austin's Chapel, & left the Knight of Fame in his Cell, meeting with many of the Natolian knights, who demanded if he saw not such a K. describing so well as they could) the knight of Fame, whom he answered all after one sort, that he had not seen any such: but marveling at their earnest inquiry, he demanded what that knight might be? One of them told him, that he was called the knight of Fame, who lately arrived in that country, and was kindly entertained by Maximus, but especially of Marcellus, and having in some sort offended the King, was by him afterwards thrown into the lions den, by reason of a letter the king of Libya sent, wherein he accused him to have dishonoured Venola his only daughter, whom that day was seen and spoken withal. jabine hearing his speeches, wondered thereat: yet notwithstanding was careful lest the knight of Fame should be ●ound abroad, whom he now began greatly to esteem, both that he deemed him to be sprung of royal blood, and also for that Marcelius made estimation of him: who he thought knew him clear of those accusations, or else he would not have favoured him so m●●●h: that with all speed he hasted to his Cell, where being entered, he ●ound the Knight of Fame very sad, and fast bolting the Chapel door, he came to him, saying. Worthy Knight, I am glad that I have found you here, for were you abroad, there are such a number of Knights in search of you, that it were impossible to escape them. For me (quoth he) I think you are deceived. Yea (quoth he) if you are called the Knight of Fame, and lately escaped out of the lions den. With that his colour changed. Nay (quoth ●abine) fear not, for you shall be here as safe as your heart can wish, for this place is no way suspected, therefore think yourself secure: then jabine declared unto him all that had happened, and what he had heard. Whereupon the knight of Fame likewise finding him faithful and secret, declared unto him the whole discourse of his travels, only leaving out the vision which appeared to him in Thrace. Ask his counsel what to do, and entering into many sad discourses, how he was still crossed in his expectation: and withal, told him that he knew not which way to travel in search of his Parents, which if he could attain, than he would not doubt but to revenge those injurious wrongs done him. Sir Knight (quoth jabine) I think it best that you travel in search of them, and that presently in the mean time these troubles by forgetfulness will be well over blown, and then you may have the better opportunity to go forwards with any intent you shall afterward put in practice: for if you stay here, you may unfortunately be descried, for the King's jealousy is such, that he will leave no means unattempted to work your death.  
Father (quoth he) your counsel is good, which I will put in practice, not voluntarily, but forced thereto in regard of mine own preservation: requesting this one favour at your hands, that you would by some means remember my humble duty to that honourable knight Marcellus: and tell him that it shall not be long ere I return: desiring him in the mean time (according to his former courtesy, which hath been extended far beyond my desert) to remain my friend, and remember me to Angelica. I will (quoth jabine) fulfil your request in every respect. But first (quoth he) I think it most convenient you change your armour, for that in that you are easily known: and I have one within, that is every way of as good proof. The knight of Fame liked his device exceedingly well, and armed himself in that armour, which was very rich and costly, guilded all over with Gold and Amell, without any devise to be known by: and in that armour the next night he departed, taking his leave of old Iabine, with many courtesies, being most unwilling to leave his company: and parting with a heavy heart, for that he went to undertake ●●●ewe travel, which might detain him long from returning to Angelica: and by good fortune, that night he got out of the country, and past the search of the Natolians, whom he did not care to meet withal, but that he would not thereby hinder the speed of his journey.   

CHAP. XXI. How the Knight of Fame arrived in the Country of Bohemia, and redeemed Violetta from Archas. How Archas was put to death. How the Knight of Fame came to the knowledge of his Parents, and after that, departed again towards Anatolia.  
AFter that the Knight of Fame was past the bounds of Anatolia, he arrived in an exceeding great plain, where he saw many ready paths, but knew not which of them to take: at last a sudden thought and remembrance of Parismus entered his fancy, which so fully possessed his mind, that the thought thereof, would by no means remove, which was so effectually wrought in him by a natural effect: for there were his Parents, and no where else, which caused nature itself, to pity his restless Passions, and no longer to procastinate his felicity, that he fully and resolutely determined to travel thither.  
Whither afterwards with long travel he attained having great desire to see Parismus again, to whom his heart had vowed everlasting friendship. And now drawing nigh the court, in the afternoon when the sun had with his scorching beams made the season hot, he heard a grievous complaint, as it seemed to his hearing, of some distressed lady, which made him stay to listen which way that cry came, and by the voice, drawing nigh to the place, he espied under the shadow of a heap of El●es, a knight in Armour and a Lady at his ●éet, who were the same that made that moan. The knight of Fame coming near them, they both espied him, to the Lady's comfort: but the Knight presently took up his shield, and addressed himself for his defence.  
The Knight of Fame well noting the Lady's countenance, remembered that he had seen her, but he could not remember where, which caused him the more willing ●● help her: being otherwise of his own virtuous inclination, ready to secure any distressed Lady: that coming to her, demanded her cause of sorrow: but she being ready to make him answer, and holding up her hands to crave his pity, the other Knight setting his sword against her breast, vowing, that if she spoke one word, he would thrust the same through her body: which the knight of Fame seeing, thinking he went about to slay her, with his sword drawn, rushed violently against him, and overthrew him: but giving him leave to recover his ●●ete, he said: Traitorous villain, why offerest thou this Lady such discourtesy, being ashamed she should declare thy treackery: which maugre thy heart, I will know before we two part? with that he lent him such a blow, that he made him stagger: the Knight thought himself now in worse case than ever he had been: but notwithstanding, he resisted the knight of Fame most courageously for a space, but he being the most gallantest knight in the world, soon brought him in great danger of his life: which when the knight saw and fel●, he stayed himself, and said. Knight, before the combat continue any ●onger, let me know your name? I will not show thee that favour (quoth the knight of Fame) but wish thee yield thyself: neither will I show thee that favour (quoth he) with that he began the combat again, being scarce able to lift up his sword, by reason of his faintenesse by effusion of blood, intending to end his life: which the knight of Fame perceiving, clasped him in his arms, a with violence wrong his sword out of his hands, and by force made him yield, having no weapon to offend himself nor his adversary.  
The Lady seeing herself thus fortunately delivered, coming to the knight of Fame, desired him to pity her estate, and not to forsake her until she were come to the Bohemian court. With that, the knight of Fame was exceedingly glad, saying: Lady, I will not forsake you but see you there in safety, for thither am I bound. But I pray you (quoth he) let me know your name, for that I have I am sure seen you about the Forest of Arde? Violetta with that was drawn into a great admiration what he should be, at last she said: my name is Violetta, that am ordained to perpetual misery, being indeed by the treachery of a dislayall knight named Archas, driven to wander thitherwards.  
The knight of Fame then immediately remembering her, but being unwilling to discover himself, questioned no more with her, but only asked her what that knight was? Sir knight▪ quoth she▪ I know him not, nor why he hath offered me this outrage. Which said▪ the knight of Fame forced him to go with them, and so they all departed towards the court, where very soon th●y arrived. Now it happened, that Parismus at that very instant was in the court, who espying Violletta accompanied by two knights, the one of them being grievously wounded, and as it were by his countenance, and manner of forced coming, seeming captive to the other, and not knowing of any misadventure that had befallen her, wondered thereat: and coming to her▪ not well knowing in what sort to salute those Knights, being ignorant of the cause of their coming, he demanded where she had been? My Lord (quoth she) this knight, meaning the knight of Fame, hath preserved me from the dishonour of this most discourteous knight, intended against me, as I will declare unto you presently. With that Parismus most kindly embraced the knight of Fame, departing altogether into the presence, where was the king & queen, Pollipus, Laurana, and many others▪ Pollipus seeing Violetta amongst those strange knights, marveled thereat, ●ut sh● coming before the king, upon her knes desired justice against ●he we ●ided knight: the king told her that she should have justice. Violetta then said, as followeth. Most mighty king, I beseech you regard my complaint: revenge the monstrous wrong done me by this most wicked and abominable homicide, who ha● offered▪ monstrous ou●rage: fo● this afternoon, attended by my damozoll, I went forth of the court into the grove adjoining to the garden, to recreate myself in the cool shade: where I had not long stayed, but this discourteous Villain surprised me, and caught hold of my damsel, who made great exclamation, fearing my harm, whom he bond both hand and foot: threatening if she made any noise, to murder her. Which done, he took me by violence, and haling and pulling me most rudely and discourteously, would have conveyed me I know not whither, until this valiant Knight by good fortune, hearing my complaints, redeemed me from his tyranny. The King hearing her speeches, commanded the knight to discover himself, but he being exceedingly ashamed, and loath to be known, refused the same: but at last, by some of the Bohemian Knights was unarmed, when presently Violetta knew him, wherewith she gave an exceeding start, as if she had been affcighted at his fight. Parismus and Pollipus likewise knew him, certifying the King, that it was Archas, that had before offered the like villainy to Violetia, which the King well remembered.  
Then he said: Cruel tyrant, what excuse canst thou invent to shelter this villainy? what canst thou allege in thy defence, but that thou oughtest to suffer the most reproachful death that can be invented? but this censure will I give of thee, not to favour thee, but to deal justly with that Knight, whose Prisoner thou art, and therefore, as he by right hath conquered thee, so we will that he shall be thy judge.  
The Knight of Fame had all this while diligently viewed laurana's beauty, her countenance, and every part of her behaviour, that he took great delight in viewing her, but hearing the king's speech, he unarmed his head: whom Parismus soon knew, and most lovingly embraced: like wise Pollipus and Violetta knowing him, saluted him with many courtesies: when presently Parismus declared unto his father, that it was the famous knight that was called the Knight of Fame.  
The King hearing that it was he, of whom he had heard someny honourable reports, rose from his Kingly seat, and embraced him most lovingly: and every one in general, seemed to be most exceedingly delighted with his presence.  
Laurana beholding his countenance, felt an exceeding throbbing suddenly possess her heart: withal, such a violent bl●shing flashed in her face, that she wondered whence such sudden motions should proceed, and was constrained to turn aside, lest any should perceive her changing countenance, and withdrew herself to a window. This alteration being wrought in her by a natural instinct, which she was altogether ignorant of.  
The knight of Fame not unmindful to satisfy Violetta's wrong, by some revenge against Archas, most humbly thanked the King for honouring him so much, by giving him authority to give his doom: but (quoth he) I most humbly entreat your Highness to pardon me, and desire your wisdom, to whom he hath been offensive, to use him as you please: for it were great presumption for me, in this strange place to censure of him in your majesties presence.  
Then the king called Archas, commanding him to declare what moved him to commit that outrage to Violetta: but he assuring himself of no less than death, would make no answer: whereupon the King commanding him to be had to prison, appointed that the next day he should lose his head, which was accordingly performed: who might peradventure have been pardoned, but that his own conscience accused him more than those whom he had offended. And so according to his own folly, which had brought him to commit those wicked acts, even so he was his own judge: for that his guilty conscience would not suffer him to ask pardon. After this judgement given, every man's mind was in quiet, having sufficiently scanned the circumstance of Violetta's misfortune.  
The Knight of Fame was royally entertained, and honourably feasted by the king of Bohemia, but especially Parismus and Laurana, used him with exceeding kindness, being for that night driven to part from him without any conference. But Laurana was so exceedingly troubled with his remembrance, that she could scarce take any rest at all that night, for thinking on him, not knowing what should move her to such unwonted alteration, that in the morning when Parismus and she were in some conference about the Knight of Fame, she said. My Lord, I know not wha● should move me to think any such thought, but I am persuaded, that his arrival will bring us either some unexpected joy or sudden sorrow: for since I first saw him, my heart hath never been quiet: neither can I, though I strive to the contrary, once put his remembrance out of my mind, which hath so fully possessed my fancy, that I could take no rest this night.  
Myself (quoth Parismus) have felt the self same Passion, not only now, but also at my first meeting wi●h him in the Forest of Arde: which maketh me partly of the self same opinion with you, and also desirous to know of whence he it. In this and such like communication they continued some time ●ill Pari●mus left her, and went to the Knight of Fame, who was already in company of Pollipus, whom Parismus most kindly used, and afterwards being o●● most Royal Feast, which was prepared only for his more honourable welcome: after dinner being requested by Parismus (who was desirous to know of whence he was) there being the King and Queen, Parismus, Laurana, Pollipus, and Violetta, and divers others, ●ée begun to declare the whole discourse of his travels to them in this sort. I● I should declare my name and birth (quoth he) I know not how to begin: for that I myself am ignorant thereof: but so much as I can remember, I will hide no part from you. I was brought up in a country in Tartary, called the Island of Rocks, my Parents for any thing I know, being poor, or whether they w●re or no, I know not, but when I was of some remembrance, either my mother that brought me up, or rather my nurse (for she would not suffer me to call her mother) departed from her habitation, I know not with what intent, but by the way a Lion slew her, whom I pursued to his den: where being come, I could not return back to my nurse, by which means I stayed in that place many years, until on a time▪ she appeared unto me in a dream, warning me to forsake that unfrequented place, and go to the Castle of Rocks, which I presently did, than not knowing what a Castle meant: where at the first I was roughly handled, but at last I was kindly used by Tyresus, who brought me up a long time, with whom I departed to Sea: where by a mighty tempest, the ship and all that were in the same were cast away, myself only was cast on the shore in Thrace: where I was succoured by the good Duke Amasenus, in whose Court I was often like to be destroyed, by some of his Knights that envied me: from whence I departed to the King's Court, hearing of a general triumph that was held: the king's Daughter being appointed the conquerors reward: whom I wan, and was determined to have married: from which I was warned of by a vision, which willed me to surrender my ti●le in Phylena, to Remulus, to whom she was before betrothed: which I did, and also that I should travel in search of my Parents, which the vision told me were of kingly race: and withal, gave me another command, that I should love no Lady, until I had sound out that Lady that was shown me in the vision: this did greatly trouble me, when presently came news o● Tyrides death, son to Duke Amasenus, who was slain by Brandamor in rescue of Venola, whom he had the custody of: upon which occasion I traveled first to Libya, and from thence to the Forest of Arde, thinking Venola had been the same Lady appeared to me in the vision, where I met with your Highness, and with you departed to the Court of the king of Libya, after Venola was redeemed, as yourself remember, who was not the Lady I went in search of. Afterwards when I had thought to have departed with you towards this country, Venola by subtlety causing me to take a sleepy potion, frustrated my desire, which she did to stay me with her upon a pretence of great love she bore me, which one afterwards made me acquainted withal: which when I heard, being enjoined to place my affections on another, searing some mischance might arise by her love, and finding out with what device they had frustrated me of your company, I departed without knowledge of any from thence: and at last after long travel, arrived in Notalia, where lying down to rest myself being weary, it happened the Lady Angelica (the most fairest Lady living) to pass by▪ whom after I had seen, I perfectly knew to be the Lady that appeared to me in the vision, having after such good success, that I was entertained by Maximus the King, at the golden Tower, and there grew into great acquaintance with Marcellus. I had not long remained there, but the King of Libya (as I suppose, persuaded thereto by Venolas means) wrote a letter unto Maximus that he would for his sake either send me to him, or else be revenged on me by my death: alleging that I had dishonoured his daughter▪ which acculation was most false and untrue. Hereupon the King without hearing what I could say in mine own defence, immediately cast me into a den of fierce Lions, who refused to hurt me, where I remained many days, having no other food but such as was cast to them: from whence afterwards I escaped by the Keeper's means, whom I compelled to send for Marcellus, who rid me out of the Tower, and sent me to an ancient friend of his named jabin, a Priest of Saint Anstines' Chapel, promising to come to me the next day, but was disappainted thereof by such means as is not yet come to my knowledge. Upon a day I went abroad from the Chapel, and by misfortune was espied by some of the King's Knights, who certified him, (as I think that I was alive: whereupon he again most unjustly sought my life,) and sent out thousands in my search: from whose hands I escaped, intending to find my Parents, and so traveled hitherwards. This (quoth he) is the brief and true rehearsal of my travels and bringing up, so far as I know: having nothing whereby to be otherwise known, but a jewel which my nurse gave me great charge to keep, whose mind I have fulfilled, With that, he pulled out of his bosom the jewel, which he continually wore about his neck, which Laurana having diligently viewed, perfectly knew to be the same she had left with Parismenos, in the Island of Rocks, whom she assuredly (both by that & many other probabilities) knew to be her son, that suddenly before them all, she ca●ght him in her arms and cried. Oh my son Parismenos, thou art my son: many times kissing and embracing him. Her strange behaviour drove them all in admiration. When suddenly the place where they were began to wax dark, that they could scarce see one another, and they hard a voice, which they knew not from whence it should come, which said. Parismus welcome thy son Parismenos, long time absent from thee: thou needest not doubt of it, for none is so like thee in heroical qualities: which said, the darkness presently vanished.  
By this they all assuredly knew that the Knight of Fame was son to Parismus and Laurana, who likewise assured himself that he had ●ound his Parents: that presently he kneeled down, whom Parismus, the King, the Queen, and Laurana, most lovingly all at once encompassed with their kind embracings, rejoicing most exceedingly for joy that he was ●ound: being unable by words, welcomes, embracings, or otherwise, to express their gladness▪ Parismus rejoicing that he had so valiant and virtuous a son, the king and Queen glad that in their old age they saw so virtuous an imp sprung forth of their issue to succeed in the kingdom. And Laurana with tears of joy expressing her content, in that she had found her son whom she thought had been destroyed long ago: that no heart is able to express the joy that possessed their hearts. Pollipus and Violetta they likewise embraced him, being as glad as any of the rest, of his safety. This news was soon spread through the whole Court, & from thence, ●lying ●ame soon brought the knowledge thereof to the Citizens, who of their own accord, rung their bells, made bonfires & triumphs, through the whole city▪ where on all sides, was such exceeding rejoicings, as is impossible to be expressed▪  
Many days afterwards, the Knight of Fame who now shall assume his right and proper name Parismenos, continued in the Bohemian Court, honourably entertained, and highly esteemed of the Bohemian states: who grew into exceeding love towards him, and was kindly beloved of the King and Queen, but especially of his parents, who thought themselves most happy and blessed to have such a son: whose ●ame was spread through most places of all the World, and that every man's ears were filled with the report of his most honourable deeds.  
Now that Parismenos had thus happily attained the knowledge of his parents, the want whereof had long time filled his mind with care, no other thought but of Angelica's love could take place in his heart, which (though his cause of joy otherwise was sufficient) filled his senses with sadness, and quite extinguished those delights, that they seemed to his troubled mind, rather tedious the● comfortable: adding no ease to his care, which were augmented to an exceeding height, by reason of Maximus cruelty, which he saw was so much aggravated against him, that he knew it a thing impossible for him to attain the least favour at his hands: who likewise kept Angelica guarded so strongly▪ and so narrowly pried into all her actions, that it was impossible any way, either to come to her speech, or to send to her: that with diversity of the cogitations, his heart was tormented▪ his countenance darkened, and he spent his time most commonly in sadness: being seldom drawn to any mirth, which was generally noted of all men: but especially of Laurana, who could never be quiet but only ●n his company.  
And on a day missing him, she rested not until she had found him out, being gotten into the most solitary place in the garden▪ leaning himself upon his elbow: who espying her, raised himself from the ground, blushing at h●r presence, to whom she said.  
Why how now Parismenos, what sadness is that which possesseth your mind, that maketh you estrange yourself from company, to delight in sollitarinesse? is there none so highly in your favour, that they may know the truth thereof? or is your cause of care such, as none can remedy? or not counsel you for your ease? I am sure there are many would not refuse to use their endeavours to pleasure you, especially myself would both willingly do my best to comfort you, and know the cause, if it be not too secret.  
Par●smeno● with humble reverence made her this answer: I beseech you do not think me so undutiful: nor my cause of care so secret, that I would conceal the same from you: but were it of much more importance. I would willingly reveal it to satisfy your mind: which I have omitted, as unwilling to trouble you therewith, and for no other respect.  
Then I pray (quoth she) let me know, is it not love? yes most dear mother (quoth he) it is love, and to that beautiful Lady Angelica, who beareth me the like affection: but so far am I from enjoying her love, as that i● attainteth my heart with care to think thereof, which is the cause of my sadness: which will increase rather than diminish, if I do not shortly travel thither, being now assured of all other doubts, and having finished my travel in search to find you out. Therefore, I most humbly beseech you to procure my Lord and father's consent to my speedy departure, for without the fruition of her heavenly sight, my li●e will be but wearisome. Laurana hearing his speeches, perceived indeed, that his affection was great, and therefore not to be removed, and well knowing by her own former experience, that love was incurable, she was the more ready to pity his passions, that she promised to further him in what she could, being now assured of the cause of his sadness.   

CHAP. XXII. How Parismenos after the knowledge of his parents, departed towards Anatolia▪ How he met with Marcellus: and what afterwards befell to him.  
WIthin f●we days after, Parismenos returned again towards Anatolia but with much sorrow in the Bohemian court for his departure) spending much time in travel, until he arrived at S. Augustine's Chapel▪ having gotten him other armour, because he would not be known: and knocking at the Chapel door, presently old jabin came out, to whom he discovered himself: who knowing him, rejoiced exceedingly, at his presence and safety, desiring him ●o come in, for that he had news of importance to tell him.  
Parismenos coming to him for no other intent, but to hear news from Angelica, willingly went in with him. And ●abin began as followeth. Most noble knight I will declare unto you all that I have ●arned of ●he estate o● Marcellus, so ●●are as I can. After that you were departed from hence, the Natolian▪ having continued their deligent search some three day●s, in the end returned to the Court, frustrated of their desire: whereby Maximus gave no credence to that report, ●●t soon forgot the same, remaining in great quiet.  
Marcel●es by this time had recovered his health, lett●● pass● no time, came hither, thinking to have sonn● you ●éere, but hearing by ●y report of your departure, ●ee seemed to be quite overcome with gr●●fe, and declared unto me all that had happened to you in the Golden Tower, which you had declared unto me before: and withal manifested what had happened unto him and Angelica, and how he was so grievously wounded: then ●a●in declared the same, 〈◊〉 as Marcellus had told him, in the very same manner as is before ●●●lared, when he determined to have conveyed Angelica to S. Ausiens chapel, the day his Father was on hunting. And (quoth he) Marcelius having told me this, withal showed me with what sorrow Angelica endured your absence.  
Parismenos having heard his words, which yielded him full assurance of Marcellus ●riendship, and Angelica's constant love, was therewith exceedingly comforted, rehearsing to him, how fortunately he had found his Parents.  
jabin then began to use him with more reverence, and more fervently to affect his company and good, that at Parismenos request, he went towards the Golden Tower, to see if he could by any means speak with Marcellus, which he willingly at his request did, and brought news back, that Maximus was departed with the Queen, Marcellus and Angelica towards the Gittie of Ephesus: which he learned of such as were gard●ants at the Golden Tower.  
Parssmenos hearing that, immediately departed thitherwards, and entering the City, road presently unto the Court, where ●ée met a Knight, whom he desired of courtesy to certify Marcellus that there was a Knight who would speak with him: which at his request, he presently went and performed: and finding Marcellus in the k●ngs great hall, he told him there was a strange knight at the Court gat● that was desirous to speak with him.  
Marcellus marveling who it should be, immediately went out unto him, being a Knight of exceeding virtue, that he would not refuse any courtes●e, and though he were son unto a mighty King, yet he disdained not to fulfil his request, though he neither knew him, nor the cause of his coming.  
Parismenos beholding him, immediately alighted from his steed, and with a kind behaviour said; Most noble and courteous Prince, I desire to have some few words in private conference with you, from the knight of Fame. Marcellus hearing him name the knight of Fame, desired him to say on: for there were none then present, but such as he trusted.  
My Lord (quoth Parismenos) because I know not whether I may discover myself or no with safety, I am the knight of Fame, and now altered in name, but not in good will to you. Marcellius hearing his words, had much ado to refrain from embracing him: but yet for that he would not have any note the same, he abstained: but said; Most noble knight, nothing could have brought that joy to my heart, your presence doth, being a long ●ime severed from you by Fortune's unconstant mutability, who altereth the estate of things, according to her variable disposition: trusting you have not misdoubted of my good will, though I came not to S. Augustine's Chapel according to my promise: which I was about to perform, but that my intent was crossed. But seeing you are thus happily returned, and have as I hope, attained the knowledge of your parents, in whose search old jabine told me you were departed, I desire you repose that assured confidence in my trustiness, that I will labour to procure your content every way to my uttermost power: your safety and return, will bring no little joy to my Sister Angelica, which is impossible to give her knowledge of: for my father hath now guarded her more strictly than ever before: neither is she here in this Court as the common report goeth, but still remaineth in the Golden Tower, which I will declare to you hereafter. In the mean time, because you shall not be descried, I will send my Esquire with you unto an ancient Lady's house of good estimation, where you shall be kindly entertained for my sake, whether I will repair unto you: where you shall, i● so please you stay, until I can work some means how to bring you, that you may speak with my Sister Angelica.  
Parismenos hearing his courteous speeches, yielded him most hearty thanks: and so for that Marcellus was fearful of his Father's suspicion, without any more speeches, he sent Parismenos with the Squire unto the Lady's house, whose name was Madam Panora: who taking Parismenos by the hand, conducted him in, and used him most kindly.  
After dinner was past, Marcellus came thither to him, thanking Pavora for entertaining his friend: then he most lovingly embraced Parismenos (who by reason of his long travel, and exceeding cares, was so much altered, that had Marcellus met him in the streets, without any former knowledge that it was he, he would hardy have known him) who with the like behaviour gréeted him again: declaring to him his whole traveles in search of his Parents. Marcellus hearing that he was Son unto the most noble Princes Parismus and Laurana, heirs of the two famous Kingdoms of Thessasie and Bohemia, said. Most noble Knight, how miserable ●●uld Anatolia have been esteemed, if it had been the destruction o●●o honourable blood, and what cruelty might have been imputed to my Father, to have given you the sentence of your death? & how unfortunate had our blood been, in missing to be affianced to so honourable and Kingly houses? but notwithstanding all this, my Father too much overburdened with conceit, regardeth no such honour, but rather dishonoureth his house and stock with his fearful suspect, who since your departure from the Maiden Tower, grew into such furious conceit of Angelica, that every day he was in a manner her keeper, and in the night he caused her to lodge in his own chamber, the doors whereof he would sock with his own hands, and keep the keys, which was procured by the vain surmise of a dream, wherein he dreamt that Angelica should be stolen from him: this miserable life continued not many days (which well I may term most miserable, being entangled with so many cares as I know possess his heart) till at the last he wrought this devise, thinking under that to ease his cares, and prevent all those mischiefs which he feared: he gave out speeches many days before he came to the Golden Tower, that he would departed to this City: and withal, it was reported in every man's voice, that Angelica should no more be kept in that Tower, but that she should likewise depart with him, which all the Nobles and Lords of the land were glad of: the knights and Ladies her attendants rejoiced thereat, and the Fame 〈◊〉 was soon spread through the hearing of bordering Nations and from thence to far countries, myself amongst the rest was exceedingly glad, especially Angelica most of all rejoiced thereat. Now my Father seeing the joy that was made thereat, was the more troubled in his senses, that coming to a Damozell of mean birth, yet of much beauty, who in countenance much resembled Angelica, he won her by (many protestations of great preferrment, and with many threats of great se●er●tie, i● she would not condescend to follow his co●nsell) to do whatsoever he commanded her: her did he cause to come into his own chamber, and secretly (without the privity of any but the Queen) to attire herself in Angelica's richest ornaments, appointing certain Damozells to attend her, that knew not Angelica: or at least knew her not from Angelica.  
As for Angelica, the very same day, when he meant to departed, he● committed her to the custody of four eunuchs: who vowed 〈◊〉 let any come either to the sight of her, or speech of her, without be brou●● my Father's letter to that effect, signed with his own hand and s●gnet, removing all her former gardiants, and appointing new that knew nothing, but that Angelica was departed with the King, from whose knowledge likewise he had given the eunuchs especial charge, to keep her being there.  
All the Ladies likewise that attended her, came away with him, knowing no other but that Angelica was in his company, leaving no other to attend her, but one Damsel, named Anna, which she obtained of my Father, with many instant entreaties. And having effected every thing according to his fancy, he departed hitherwards: the Damezell so artificially behaving herself, that neither myself nor any other perceived but that it was Angelica indeed. And being arrived in this place, he committed this supposed Angelica to such strict custody, as before he used, committing her to be kep● by those Damozells that indeed thought it had been Angelica, whom he bound by many promises, not to suffer any to come to her speech. But I longing to have some conference with my Sister, whose heart I knew was oppressed with many cares for your absence, sought means to come to her speech, which I was long without obtaining: but at last by means of one of the Damozells, whom with many entreaties, I had won, I came to her, and taking her by the hand, I began to use many speeches to comfort her: and withal, to enter into such conference, as would have bewrayed all the secrets that ever had passed betwixt me, Angelica, and yourself: but the Damozel bearing a virtuous mind, and unwilling (as she afterwards told me) to betray my secrets to her privity (which could not proceed but from a marvelous good disposition) suddenly broke off my speeches, saying.  
My Lord, I beseech you be advised to whom you speak, unless you will commit your secrets to one that you would not otherwise trust, neither will I presume (being unworthy thereof) to participate your coun●els: for I am not Angelica, but your poor hamd-maide Dulcia. At which words I was half astonished, and viewing her indeed, perfectly knew her: which without she had betrayed herself, I should never have done: withal▪ my fancy began inwardly to commend her courtesy, or rather virtue, that refused (though she condescended to my father's will) to betray me, knowing the whole depth of my secrets: and wondering how mine eyes were blinded, that could before descry her, I requested her to tell me the occasion why she supplied Angelica's room, the truth whereof she declared unto me, in manner as I have now told you: withal, requesting me upon her knees, not to reveal that which she had of duty, good will and affection told me: which I promised I would, and mean faithfully to concelae from all but yourself. Now there resteth nothing but how to work means that you may come to Angelica.  
Parismenos hearing how strictly his Lady was guarded, was suddenly stricken with silent sadness, to think of the impossibilities that hindered his content, and his mind was so oppressed with care, that he forgot how to study for his own avail.  
Marcellus seeing him fallen into that heaume dump, revived him from the same with this comfortable speech: My dear friend abandon this habit of care, and revive your drooping heart with hopeful comfort, for myself will work a means how you shall have the custody of Angelica, which I will effect very speedily, if you will stay here but while I can bring the same about. Parismenos being comforted with his courteous promise, gave him thanks in these speeches.  
Most noble Knight, how may I express sufficient thanks to you, for becoming so kind and faithful a friend to me unworthy? or which way may I recompense the least of your good deeds▪ that have in all abundance tasted of your honourable bovatie? for which I render you thanks, as all the recompense I am able to make: vowing if ever you need my help in any thing, never to desist to hazard my life for your sake. And since you have of your own virtuous disposition voluntarily (neither drawn by entreaty nor hope of recompense) promised me your assistance, which only may be the mean to work my everlasting felicity, I beseech you go forwards therein, that I may thereby be much more indebted, as well for that, as for infinite other your Princely courtesies: which though they pass unrewarded, yet they shall never rest ungratified in my dutiful devotions, which by good right are eternally bound to requite your good will.  
Worthy friend (quoth Marcellus) leave off so to use such thanks to me, that request nothing at your hands but love and friendship, which am unable to merit any such recompense as you kindly yield: but I pray be you merry yet in my absence, with this kind old Lady, whilst I put my purpose in practice, which so soon as I have brought to perfection, I will return, and not before: till when, I take my leave, committing you to your own hearts desire, which I wish. Which words being ended, with many courteous farewells he departed the chamber: and coming to Panora, (who before had been his Nurse, and loved him most dearly) whom he requested in most earnest sort, to use his friend as kindly as she would use himself, who promised so to do: and likewise performed it in ever using Parismen●s so kindly, that he could not choose but greatly to ettoll and commend her courtesy.  
Now let my muse return to speak somewhat of Angelica, who after she saw that she was frustrated of her desire, which was to departed with the King, according as himself had given out speeches, and not to be any longer enthralled as she had of long time before been, and now perceiving that her father had both deceived her in that, taken away all her damsels, changed her guard, and appointed her to be guarded by such ●ealous slaves, as would never scarce day nor night suffer her to be out of their sight, thought herself not only in as bad case as before, but rather in a thousand times wor●e, being deprived of many pleasures which she enjoyed: but never esteemed of them, until now she was restrained, missing the comfortable presence and sweet conference she was wont to enjoy with Marc●llus, and especially▪ fearing never to see the Knight of Fame again, she wholly gave her mind to sorrow, spending all her time commonly in tears and bewailing her sad estate that had not Anna in some measure comforted her, she would have overwhelmed her tender heart with those cares, and have shortened the date of her precious life, thinking every hour a day, and every day a year, till she were released from that bondage: in which careful estate she continually remained.   

CHAP. XXIII. How the Knight of Fame carried Angelica f●om the golden Tower, to labines Chapel.  
AS soon as Maximus was come to the Court, he presently got himself to his chamber, and there began to study how to compass that which he had undertaken to effect: at last he bethought himself, that if he could devise any means to get his father's Signet, he would write a letter unto the keepers of the Maiden Tower, in the behalf of Parismenos, that they should admit him as one of the Gardiants which presently he contrived in this sort.  
THis trusty knight, on whose fidelity I repose my confidence, I have chosen and appointed to be one of your fellows, and to that effect I have sent him to you with this letter, signed by myself: whom I require you to admit without any denial, and keep this as your warrant to do the same.  
Maximus.  
When Marcellus had wrote this letter, and imitated therein so near as he could his father's hand, which he knew they were not greatly acquainted withal, he wrought such means that he gate Maximus s●gnet and sealed the same: which when he had signed the next morning he went to Parismenos and told him what▪ he had done: who liked thereof very well, and (quoth he) if I may once be admitted amongst them, let me alone with the eunuchs to come to Angelica, neither will I be denied, since I have this good means: that presently he armed himself, for that he would not v●e any, not the least which oftentimes bringeth things well begun to an untoward end: and taking his leave of Marcellus and the Lady ●anora, with abundance of hearty thanks, he departed with a merry heart towards the maiden Tower, hoping now to enjoy the sweet sight of his beloved, which he never beheld but twice in all the time he had sought her love. Marcellus he departed back again to the court very sad, for the absence of Parismenos and Angelica, being likewise much grieved, that Maximus hi● father should withhold any of his secrets from him, which did both disgrace him to such as were strangers, and especially to those Ladies that were dulcia's attendants, which though he knew well ●●ough, yet that took away no part of his conceit of unkindness: but most of all he was troubled with grie●e to b● restrained from dulcia's company, on whom his thoughts had continually run, ever since he had been last with her, for her beauty excelled all the Ladies of the court (Angelica excepted) & of her virtue he had good conceit, by that which he had found in her good dispositions, when she refused to thrust herself into the knowledge of his secrets, but rather committed all that the King had commanded her to his secrecy, which if Maximus should know of, would be as much as her life were worth. These cogitations so much altered his countenance, that whereas before he was of a pleasant disposition, ●e now began to give his mind wholly to melancholy sadness, often shunning the company of those he was wont to de●ight in, which Maximus noted, especially the Queen both marveled and was grieved thereat, and finding him out when he was in that heavy vain, she earnestly demanded his cause of sadness, to whom he made this answer. My father, I know not upon what occasion accounteth me I think, rather as one that would betray him, then as his son, that he restraineth me Angelica's presence, and keepeth his counsels from me: to intrude myself into his counsels, I will not presume: only my desire is▪ that I may but be admitted to the sight of my sister Angelica.  
Marcellus (quoth the Queen) I pray thee be contented for a time, for thou seest thy father's mind, which will impart his secrets to none, who if he should know that your sadness were for that cause, would be the more fearful to impart t●em to you, which can no way pleasure you, but rather fill your mind with greater ●ares, which now is more happy than it would be then: for Angelica so long as sh●e is ●n health, what need you be so careful for her: then good Marcellus rest yourself contented, and desire not that which will rather add more trouble to your head. The Queen having ended these speeches, departed, and lest Marcellus where sh●e found him.  
Assoon as the Queen was gone, h●e ●ega● again to ponder these things, not knowing why his head sh●ld be thus troubled: for he kn●w all that he desired, and yet his mind was troubled therewith, that at last, with more advised consideration, he weighed every conceit of his thoughts, and found that neither his Fathers unkindness, Angelica●s absence, nor his fear of disgrace, was the● that troubled him, but only a good conceit of dulcia's kindness, which caused him to enter into a view of her perfections, which his fancy began so much to commend her, that he thought her worthy to be beloved: & withal, thought why he might not love her, which very thoughts ●rew to such insight into his own fancies, that he perceived that love had already taken possession in his heart: then he began to consider what displeasure if might procure him, if he should set his fancy on one so fa●re his inferior, and not rather seek the love of some King's daughter, that might add honour to his title, and not diminish the same: which thought was no sooner begun, but it ended, being dashed by an other conceit, that Dulcia was as beautiful as any, as virtuous as any, as court●●us as any: and therefore as worthy to be beloved as any: that i● he should marry with his equal, she might rather marrow him for his dignity, and of a haught●e mind to keep her own high dignity still, then for any true love: and if she were his equal, he should rather be subject to her will, than she any way obedient to him: that Dulcia would be a loving, kind, and dutiful wife, that she would honour him▪ rather than desire to be his equal, and that she would refuse no peril, danger▪ nor hazards for his sake: that having spent some time in these cogitations, he resolved to love Dulcia whatsoever ensued thereon: though he incurred his Parent's displeasure, or any other hazard of his honour whatsoever: and with resolution, he went immediately unto the place where she was guarded in steed of Angelica▪ and by the Damzells means, who before had done him the like favour, he came to her chamber, where he found Dulcia all alone very sad, to whom he said▪ How now Angelica, what are you sad? can I neu●r come, but that I must always find you in this melancholy disposition? what▪ are you sorry to be thus penned from a husband?  
My Lord (quoth Dulcia) though I am otherwise sad, it doth me good to see you merry. You are deceived Dulcia, I am not merry. My Lord (quoth she) if I should give credit to your words, they show that you are merry, that call me Angelica, yet know the contrary. Oh Dulcia (quoth he) neither doth words nor countenance always bewray the inward thoughts: for this which you take to be mirth in me, is but a forced habit, which I have taken upon me even now: but knew you the thought● of my heart, you would say I were sad.  
My Lord (quoth she) I beseech you pardon my boldness, which I presumed, seeing your pleasant disposition, wherein if I was deceived, I hope you will not be offended with: for indeed oftentimes the heart meditates of many things the mind cannot utter. So doth mine Dulcia (quoth he) for I wish thee more good, than I am able ●e utter: and the cause that my heart is sad, is because I am not able to do thee so much good, as my heart doth wish and cannot utter. I most humbly thank you (quoth Dulcia) acknowledging myself far unworthy such favour▪ and unable to deserve such good, which maketh me think you still continue in that forced habit, which maketh you utter those speeches. Indeed well replied Dulcia (quoth he) but as I suddenly took that habit upon me, it was gone again before I had uttered the words: therefore you may be assured now, that my words proceed from a true heart, and not from a forced habit. My Lord (quoth she again) where there is such often change of disposition, there can be no constant resolution. Yes (quoth he) that which is of purpose taken to show mirth▪ is forced: but the natural disposition still continueth firm. In deed in ●ewe (quoth she) but not in all. Then (quoth he) think me one of those ●ewe. My Lord (quoth she) I beseech you pardon me if I do not: for it is given to all by nature, to be more confident than provident. And I answer, I have received more favour at your hands, in suffering me to be thus familiar with you, than I am worthy, or ever have deserved: therefore I crave pardon, hoping ●hat you will bear wish my rudeness.  
Dulcia (quoth he) do not ask pardon when you have not misdone, but believe my words, without any question to proceed from the depth of my true heart, which intendeth and wisheth you no less good than I have uttered: for I have found such virtue in you, that I am enthralled to that virtue, and desire to be partaker and possess thy beauty, which hath made me your affectionate friend, and entreat your love, then that which I desire nothing more. My Lord (replied Dulcia,) my love and duty is such, that I will not refuse any command you shall impose upon me.  
Dulcia (quoth he) it is not such love as is commanded by duty, nor such friendship as riseth from fear, but such kind love as proceedeth (betwixt faithful friends) from the yielding consent of a true heart, and such a love as hath a further respect than that common du●y: for if you knew with what fervency I desired your sweet consent to this love, you would pity my torments.  
My Lord (replied she) I beseech your Honour do not seek to en▪ thrall me in loves bands, that am free, and am assured your fancy cannot like of one far unworthy that high favour you speak of, but suffer me rather to continue in my peaceful estate, that esteem myself far from ever enjoying such happiness, as to be bel●ued of my superior, being already so far bound unto you in all humbleness, that you shall not command me any thing that agreeth with modesty, but I will perform the same. Speak you from your heart (quoth Marcellus?) I do my Lord (quoth she.) Then (sai● he) I command you to love me: and if that be too harsh a word, I entreat and desire you, yée●● me love for that true love I bear you, being such as is grounded upon virtue, and without spot or blemish of dishonours stain, intending nothing that may disagree w●th your modesty, but to make you my equal, my companion, and my dearly espoused wife: therefore do but yield to love me, and thou shalt thereby expel many cares from my heart, which otherwise will increase to my everlasting torment.  
Oh my Lord (quoth Dulcia) I beseech you account me one that will endeavour in all duty to deserve that honour you intend me, which I s●e so many impossibilities to hinder, that it quite discourag●th me● from the least hope of that felicity. So you will love me, I care not for impossibilities, neither shall any misery alter my constant resolution▪ With that he embraced her in his arms, who gave a silent consent intermingled with tears, proceeding from her tender heart: with whom Marcellus stayed some time, spending the time in many friendly conferences, that Dulcia was constrained by his entreaties, and her own yielding heart, to give her consent: both their intents being grounded upon no other purpose, but that which is virtuous and chaste.  
Par●smenos being departed from Marcellus, soon arrived at the Maiden Tower, where he alighted, and coming to the gardiants thet kept the gate, he saluted them with a courteous behaviour, & told them, that he was sent by Maximus their King, to be one of the gardiants, whom at the first they denied him: then he delivered his Letter, which they having read, accepted him for one of their fellows, without any doubt or mistrust.  
When he had obtained his desire in this, with such prosperous success, he began to comfort himself with hope of turther good fortune, continuing all that night amongst the r●st of the gardiants, & not once offering any behaviour which might breed suspicion: but behaved himself most carefully, both in all his words and deeds, as he had a good reason: for that they were very circumspect, and almost by reason of the strict charge the King had given them, ready to suspect each other. All the next day continued he in that sort, without any meeting of the eunuchs: but on the third day he met two of them tdgether in a place most convenient, and saluted them most kindly, who marveling what he should be, for that he was a stranger, began prosently to be jealous of him: but he perceiving the same, told them, that he had a secret message unto them from the king: and withal, a letter under his hand and signet to the gardiants, which he showed them. But to you (quoth he) the King hath sent me with this message, that you shall admit me at all times to Angelica's presence, whom you have the custody off, though unknown to any but yourselves: which he told me likewise, he gave you a special charge to conceal from the rest of the gardiants, and hath upon the trust he hath reposed in me, given me authority with you to have her custody. The eunuchs having heard his message, and withal, the kings privy seal to the Letter, written in his behalf, could not choose but give credence so the same, supposing that none was privy to Angelica's being there but the king, that they made no doubt but that he was sent by him: but would not trust him, vnt●il they had consulted with the rest of their fellows: to whom they delared the truth of all he had told them, who in general admitted him to their society.  
Parismenos thought himself most happy to have ●attained this felicity, where likewise he behaved himself most carefully, telling them that he had a message of secrecy to declare to her from the King, which they made no doubt of, nor never denied. When he spied his fittest opportunity, which was, when Angelica was walking alone in a private garden, being all the liberty she had, and the eunuchs were gone to disport themselves, and had put him alone in trust with the key that conducted to her chamber, he unlocked the door, and shutting the same again, he came to her chamber, where he durst not be so bold as enter, before he had knocked. Anna being alone in the chamber, hearing one knock, came to the door: and espying Parismenos in Armour, with his▪ sword girt to his side (which he never left off, being in every point armed but his head) marveled what he should be: to whom he said. Fair Damozel, marvel not to see me in Armour, which shall never offend you, but still be employed in your defence. I have knocked, presuming no further without licence: the cause of my coming is, to deliver a message unto the Lady Angelica from Marcellus. All this time, Anna had diligently beheld him: persuading herself, she had seen him before, that she made him this answer. Sir knight, if you come from Marcellus you shall be welcome to my Lady: therefore I pray you come in, and I will conduct you to the place where she is.  
Then she brought him down a pair of stairs, into the garden where Angelica was: who sat at the farther end thereof, in a most heavy and uncomfortable sort, seeming to be quite given over to sorrow, leaning her elbow upon her knees, and her head upon her hand, with her back towards them, and hearing them coming behind her, with a sudden start raised herself from her seat, wherewith her heart panted within her: and Parismenos humbling himself upon his knee, said. ●use not divine Lady, to behold the map of sorrow, created to e●●●●e everlasting misery: the most worthy knight Marcellus hath sen●●e hither, whose favour hath caused me to be thus bold, who heartily saluteth himself to you by me. Angelica all this while diligently beh●●d him, oft changing her countenance, being procured by the diversity of thoughts: for she supposed it should be the Knight of Fam●, for that ●ée came from Marcellus: but he was so mightily altered, that she was in doubt thereof.  
Assoon as he had ended those few words, she said: Are you not the knight of Fame? I am the same most dear Lady (quoth he) with that her heart leapt for joy, and she took him most lovingly by the hand, desiring him to arise, saying: I am glad to see you again, which I feared I should never have done. Then presently procured by joy for his sight, and grief to think of her own bondage, a s●ood of Crystal tears issued from her eyes: which attainted his heart with extreme grief, that he stood like a man senseless, and confounded in his thoughts: and such passions oppressed her heart, that she was scarce able to uphold herself from falling, which caused the water with violence drawn from his manly heart, stand in his eyes, which never before by no accident were assent: and seeing her in that woeful estate, could not choose but fold his arm with a fearful touch about her slender waste to uphold her, whilst Anna ran for some comfortable water to revive her withal: but coming to herself again, she leaned her head in his bosom, who put his hand betwixt her precious temples, to keep it f●om touching his cold and hard Armour, uttering these speeches. Oh how unfortunate am I, that by my disquiet have procured you this disquiet, but before he▪ could say mor●, she answered: But were you hence, my grief would be far greater. It is not your presence hath done this, but my own hearts cares that are still allotted to be my greatest comfort: but think yourself most welcome to me, and your presence more delightful than any others whatsoever. Most virtuous Lady (quoth he) your kindness is so far beyond my desert, that I know myself altogether unable to render sufficient thanks for, which I have been aften made acquainted withal, by the worthy Marcellus, and now find kindly ratified by your own heavenly voice, which yield me that undeserved favour as shall bind me in all dutiful bonds of service to your command. If (quoth she) I should do otherwise then love you, you might account me discourteous: or if I should deny my words passed to Marcellus (who loveth you so well, that he will I know conceal nothing from you) you might account me untrue: but ●eeing you have well deserved the one▪ ●nd are by his means made privy to the other, I cannot now stand upon new terms of denial, but yield myself in all honourable sort into your custody. Most sweet Lady (quoth he) if I prone not thankful, heaven ●rant my good deeds may be rewarded with ill: if I remain not everlastingly true, let comfort hate my soul, the earth denounce my body, and terror afflict my conscience: if ever I refuse peril, hazard of life, torment, or other misery for your sake, let all peril, hazard of life, torment and misery, be my chiefest comfort: if my love continue not constant, my faith firm, and my thoughts clear of disloyalty, let those I love hate me: let all men abhor me▪ and every creature seek my destruction. Gentle Knight (quoth she) your words I do constantly believe: therefore be you assured likewise of my resolution, which is to rest myself wholly upon your virtues: with that they parted so pure a maiden kiss betwixt them, being the first that ever she had given or he received, that both their hearts seemed to interchange the others place, and to part from their loving breast with a soft breathing sigh, more sweet than if all the united perfumes in the world had been met betwixt their roseate lips. By this time Anna was returned, having spent her labour in vain, for that Angelica was safe. Then Parismenos taking her by the arm, led her up into her lodging, which when he had done, Angelica desired him to declare by what means he had attained that liberty to come to her. And he said, I am amongst the rest, one of your keepers: for behold I have the key that alone conducteth to your lodging: the eunuchs have put me in trust withal, who are now gone about some recreation they have in hand: then he declared unto her the truth of all, and of Maximus policy, and how he had caused Dulcia so supply her room at the Court, who was of every degree taken for herself. Angelica hearing his report, forced a smile from her careful heart, which she had not done many a day before. Desiring him likewise to declare his travels after he had escaped out of the lions den, which he did in every respect.  
When Angelica heard that he was son to Parismus and Laurana, whose Fame resounded in every place, and that he was sprung of two such kingly houses, her heart was filled with exceeding joy: which she expressed by giving him many kind welcomes: uttering these speeches. My dear knight (quoth she) I rejoice to hear that you have found your princely parents. But yet I would you had kept the same from my knowledge as yet, because that you might have had trial of my good will in your unknown estate, in which you were as dear to me, as you shall be if you were the highest Monarch of the world. But how happy should I be, if I might in quiet enjoy your presence, which I know not how you will effect. Dear Lady (quoth he) there resteth nothing but your consent: which if you vouchsafe to grant, than I do not doubt but soon to bring you out of this place without any hazard of your person Oh sweet Parismenos, the thraldom I have long endured, maketh me desirous of liberty, that am almost tired with conceit of my father's credulity, too much addicted to vain report: especially relying upon your virtuous disposition, and desirous to be ruled and governed by your wisdom, whom I have chosen for my only delight: I am most willing to do whatsoever you shall counsel me too, resting in assured confidence, that you will no way impair my honour, which I respect more than my life: but rest at my disposition in seeking any other assurance than my promise. I beseech you (quoth he) let no e●il conceit of me take place in your heart, but be assured, that so long as I breath, I will not err from your command, in the least undutiful respect, but rest so fully and wholly obedient to your behests, that soo●er than I will do or think a thought that shall disagree to your desire, this breath shall leave my breast, and my vitill spirits give up their latest gasp. After these speeches ended, and Angelica's mind fully satisfied, they spent some time in familiar conference, intermingled with many kind behaviours, to the further conformation of both their loves: till at last, Paerismenos enforced, in regard of their safeties, departed to his charge, whither he was come before they were returned: and at their return finding him there, they made no doubt of him▪ but took the charge upon them again, entering into Angelica's chamber, to provide her such things as were necessary▪ who because they should not find any alteration, put on her former manner of sadness, which before proceeded from the depth of care, but now she assumed to avoid suspicion. Parismenos he went down amongst the rest of the knights that kept the Castle, keeping company sometimes with them, and sometimes with the eunuchs, that neither of them knew of his familiarity with the ●ther, but both accepted him as one of their company, that he had the guarding of the entrance into the Castle, and also the secret keeping of Angelica, with the eunuchs: neither of them both suspecting his intent.  
Thus continued he amongst them some three days, in which time he came often to Angelica, and had conference with her: at last his turn came, that he must both watch with one of the eunuchs, and also at the Castle entrance, where likewise, never but two kept the watch, which fell out according to Pa●ismenos desire: whose heart was much troubled to effect this business, devising how he should be rid of his two fellows, the Eunuch and the other, that kept the eu●rance, being unwilling to be esteemed a murderer, his hands being yet never guilty of blood: at last his ●sire to get Angelica from thence, overcame that care, and he resolved rather to be their executioner, then be disappointed of his intent: when the time that he should take his place to watch, was come, and he and the Eunuch alone, the rest being gone to their lo●ging, Parismenos being in talk with the Eunuch, suddenly muffled him in his gown, so close, that none could hear him cry, and thrust his sword quite through him, which he did with such expedition, that his fellows never heard their noise, and taking the key from him, took him under his arm, and flung▪ him into a dark corner of the Tower. When he had done this, he hasted to his other place of charge: where when he came, he found his fellow watch▪ man staying for him, but fast a sl●epe, with the keys of the Castle gate lying by him: whom Parismenos caught in his arms, and before he could recover his senses, threw him from the battlements into the lake, where he was drowned: which done, he went back to Angelica's Chamber, and opening the door, entered in, and found Angelica in her bed fast asleep, whom was in mind at the first to have awaked her, but beholding her in so sweet a slumber, the awful regard he bore to her would not suffer him to be so bold, but still he stood by her a good space, being desirous to awake her, yet fearful to disturb her quiet rest: at last, Anna awaked, who continually was her bedfellow. Who seeing Parismenos in the chamber, at that unseasonable hour, stirring herself to speak to him, awaked Angelica, who likewise casting her eye suddenly on him, was somewhat aghast at his being there, but he kneeling down by her beds side, said: Pardon me I beseech you this boldness, now is the time that you may departed, and without any let or molestation, for that my sel●e have alone the keeping of the entrance into this Tower.  
Angelica hearing his speeches▪ told him, she would presently be ready: then Anna suddenly started out of the bed and app●● elled herself. And Parismenos arising withdrew himself. Angelica likewise made such expedition, that she was ready before Parismenos wished, having attired herself with most exceeding rich● Ornaments. Then thee came to him and said. Now dear friend, let us go, when you please: then he took he● by the one ar●e, and Anna by the other, saying: Be of good comfort, and fear not, for I dare assure you to pass with quiet. After they were out of the chamber be locked the door again, and took the key with him: and from thence, led her down to the Tower gate: and being without, fast locked the same again after them. And being quite without the compass of the Tower, angelica's heart seemed to leap within her for joy, demanding in most kind sort, whether he would convey her, for (quoth she) if I should be taken again, and come to Maximus presence, my ●orment and grief would be more than I am able to express. I have quoth he) a friend not far hence, in whose trust I dare repose any secret, whither I will conduct you with safety: therefore, I beseech you be of good comfort. Many a weary step Angelica had, before she came to her journeys end: which at last they attained▪ When they were come to Saint Austin's Chapel, Parismenos never left knocking until he had awaked jabin, who marveling to hear one knock at that time of the night, so unlooked for, and coming to the door, demanded before he would open the same, who was there. Parismenos made answer, good friends jabin, open the door, hear is none but friends. With that jabin knowing his voice, opened the door and let them in, with all haste lighting a Taper, than he came to Parismenos and embraced him, yet not knowing Angelica, but supposing it was she, admiring her exceeding beauty, and with humble reverence he desired her to accept of his poor Cell: where Angelica being weary, seated herself upon his bed, being most glad that she was escaped out of the Maiden Tower, where they spent some time in conference about their escape: when Parismenos at her request, declared the manner how he rid himself from those that were appeinted to watch with them. Whose wisdom Angelica greatly admired. After many of these sweet remembrances passed between them, Angelica and Anna fell both fast a sleep, being weary of their travel: which Parismenos and jabin seeing, they departed into the Chapel to confer about their security: where we will leave them, to speak of the gardiants.   

CHAP. XXIIII. How Maximus had knowledge of Angelica's escape. How Marcellus with Dulcia fled from the Court at Ephesus. And how Marcellus in Portellus armour came to S. Augustine's Chapel, And how Parismus sent Portellus into Bohemia.  
IN the morning the Cunuches according to their wonted manner, came to the place where they thought to have found their fellows, but missing them both, first marveling thereat, & afterwards conceiving the worst, being apt to suspicion, knocked at Angelica's chamber door, but none made answer: which drove them into an exceeding perpiexity of fear, than they began altogether to study what this might mean, & going down they espied their fellow lie dead before them, whom Parismenos had cast there, that Angelica might not see him: which ghastly sight affrighted them with deadly fear: that with an exceeding outcry they ran down to the Knights that kept the entrance: who marveling at their sorrow, inquired the cause thereof: they declared how they found one of their fellows slain, & the knight that Maximus had lately sent was missing. He (quoth the knights) hath the keeping of the entrance: but notwithstanding, some of them fearing the worst, ran thither▪ where they found neither him, nor the other knight that was appointed to watch with him, nor the keys of the Tower gate. With which news, they returned back to the rest of their fellows, who by this time came all together. At which news, one of them said: I see no such cause of sorrow. With that one of the eunuchs said: you know not what we have lost, we are all undone: we shall be hanged, if Maximus hear hereof, we have lost Angelica: with that the Knights burst into a laughter. Oh (quoth the Eunuch) laugh not at that which will bring us all to sorrow, we have lost Angelica, whose custody we had, though unknown to you: which the King commanded us to keep from your knowledge, for that he had given out report, that she was departed with him, whom I fear me, the strange Knight that lately arrived here, hath carried away from us all. The Knights hearing ●i● words, were exceedingly amazed thereat, which they were assured was true, by the rest of their fellows. Then they went all together uppe to Angelica's Chamber, and breaking open the doors, they found her not, but well perceived that she was gone away. Then began the eunuchs to roar and cry out like mad men, and the Knights ran up & down like men transformed into amazement: at last, with much ado, they opened the gate, finding the draw▪ bridge let down: and some of them having horse within the Tower, posted every way about the country, making diligent search and inquiry after them, and many of them met with old jabin, who answered them that he saw none such, whom they all credited, for that he was a man of religion, which were of most high estimation with every one in those Countries, that they esteemed every word that past their lips, as true Oracles: by which means Parismenos and Angelica were as safe in his custody as could be devised. jabin seeing such a number of knights abroad, returned with that news to his Cell, which drove Angelica into some fear and disquiet, but jabin by his comfortable assurances, expels the same from her heart, by telling her, that i● all the world were in search of them, yet they would never suspect that place. The eunuches soon got out of the Tower, and fled for fear of Maximus fury, every man which way he thought best for his own safety. Que of the knights posted with all speed to the Court, and coming into Maximus presence, declared the whole circumstance of this tragical event. Which when Maximus heard, he ●ore his hair, stamped on the earth, raged and railed most exceedingly, calling all the Nobles and Knights of his Court together, commanding them in all haste to arm themselves presently, and be in readiness to go with him, and to stay for him at the Court gate: then might you see Noblemen making haste, some one way, some another way, some calling for the rest of their Armour, having the one half on, and the other out of readiness: some in Harness, ready mounted, buckling on their Helmets, others a● every point armed, calling for their steeds, some ready mounting, half armed, half unarmed: Knights running this way, servants that way, all stirring and making vnwoonte● haste, and every one in a hurly burly. By this time came Maximus ready mounted, girding his spurs into his Stéeds side for haste: who was ready to make speed without spurring, commanding his Knights to follow him: who hasted after him, not knowing why they made such speed, the Ladies wondered at this news, some for fear of their husband's harm, for they thought some enemies were approached which might endanger their persons, admiring this strange accident: some bemoaning the absence of their lovers: all in a wonderful ecstasy, the Queen she sat weeping for the loss of her Daughter, which the King had told her of.  
Marcellus he only reio●ced, for that he supposed Parismenos had carried from thence Angel, Maximus with all hast arrived at the maiden Tower where he heard the truth of all, and saw the Eunuch that was sla●●e, and withal was certified in what manner the strange knight came, and how that he brought with him a Letter signed with his privy signet. When Maximus heard thi●, he grew presently into a persuasion that it was the unknown knight had done that exploit, and carried away Angelica, than he called for the letter which one of those knights (by ill fortune more careful than the rest, had demanded of Parismenos, after he had shown the same to the eunuchs as aforesaid) delivered unto him, which when Maximus saw, he presently know that it was Marcellus hand, which caused his eyes to swell with rage, that for that the night was now come, he rested in the Tower, commanding and desiring his Nobles and Knights to post throughout all the Country to find Angelica, commanding two of the chiefest of his Noble men early the next morning to post to the Court and apprehend Marcellus as ● 〈◊〉, for conspiring with a stranger to betray his life. T●●● 〈◊〉 sudden was all the Country spread over with knights▪ 〈…〉 ●lace o● 〈◊〉 to harbour them. Only jabin's Cell they suspected not, which was so ne●re the maiden Tower, and withal a place of holiness and religion dedicated to Sain● Austin, whom they worshippe●: that of all places none of them thought of likelihood, that they should be there: in which quest they continued very earnest all that night, and the next day.  
Assoon as Marcellus saw all the Knights and Nobles departed, and all the Court in an uproar, now fearing that if Maximus should see the Letter he had given Parismenos, he would know his hand: when all were in an exceeding uproar, he came to Dulcia in great haste, and told her all that had befallen, telling her, that he must now for a time leave her: for that he knew his father would upon sight of the Letter be so much incest against him, that it were mere fondness in him to stay and abide his fury: with that dulcia's heart panted with grief, and her eyes melted into ●eares, desiring him most humbly upon her knees, that he would not leave her behind, whose life would be worse than death without his presence: for my Lord (quoth she) if you will vouchsafe me this favour, I will never forsake you for ●eare of any misery, peril, or ●orment.  
Marcellus took her up with a kind kiss, telling her that he was most exceedingly glad that she would go with him, being the only thing he most destred in the world.  
Then quoth Dul●ia) tell me what I shall do, and I will do it presently. (Quoth he) whilst I hold the Ladies in a talk, whose wits are now troubled, disguise yourself, and slip out amongst them, and go to Madam panora's house, and there stay for me. Dulcia then presently cast off her uppermost garments and put on some of the Ladies, such as she next found, and locking fast her chamber door, went through amongst the thickest of them: who seeing her lock the door, took her for one of their fellows that had brought Angelica to bed: and so let her pass without suspicion.  
Dulcia was no sooner down stairs, but she hasted with all speed until she was without the court gate, and from thence came to panora's house, where she was let in by Panora, whom she told, that Marcellus had sent her thither, and would himself be there presently. Panora for his sake gave her kind entertainment. Marcellus seeing all things fall out thus prosperously, and Dulcia past by, which he ●●ted, he left the Ladies, and presently went to his 〈…〉 himself in one of the Getulian knight 〈…〉 none of his own, & went to panora's house, where habound Dulcia, and caught her in his arms with a loving embrace: and being all three together▪ he declared to Panora all that had happened, both of himself, Angelica, and Dulcia, and that the Knight which lodged in her house, was the Knight of Fame. Parismenos withal, requesting her secrecy and aid, to conceal Dulcia from all knowledge of her being there, where himself stayed all that night: And the next day spending his time in much pleasure and kind sort with Dulcia, whom he loved most exceedingly, but without any blemish or thought of intemperancy.  
Early the next morning ●ame the two Nobles from Maximus to arrest Marcellus, thinking to have found him there, but coming to his chamber, he was not there, nor in all the Court to be found. Which caused an other tumult for his absence that all had their minds so bus●ed with conceit of meditation why he should be fled, that they were all in a second amazement therewith, though none at all knowing why he was ●●ed, nor knowing what offence he had committed: the Queen likewise, made heart sorrow for his mishap. This n●wes being come to the Ladies that attended Dulcia, in stead of Angelica, who thought to carry the report of this news to Angelica, but inquiring for the key of her chamber, could not hear of it: for every one made answer they had it not, then began a controversy amongst them, inquiring who it was that came out last, but the truth thereof they could not learn, that they began to suspect each other, and that she that had the key had lost the same, and would not be known thereof: that at last they began to knock first softly, and then hard, but none made answer, which drove them all into an extreme perplexity, and with much ado, to rid themselves of that fear, they got open the door, where at their coming they could not find Angelica, but found some of her ornaments cast in the midst of the flore: that then with wring their hands, tearing their hair, and rending their ornaments, they made such an outcry and exclamation, that all the Court rung thereof: which caused the Queen, the Nobles, and almost all the whole court gather to that place, where the Queen being come, and knowing the cause of their sorrow, sat down amongst them, oppressed with care, and uttered these speeches. Peace, peace, give over this vain lamentation, for you know not for whom you mourn, it was not Angelica you had the custody of, therefore cease your laments, and give me leave to mourn, that have ●ust cause: who am a party in all these woes, that at once have lost the company of both my dear children, and all procured by Maximus misdoubt, who left Angelica in the maiden Tower, who is stolen from thence, and now my soon Marcellus with Dulcia is likewise fled. Ay me, what sorrow is this? whose grief may be compared to mine? was ever any so miserable as I am made, that at one instant have lost my comfort, my children, my joys and delight? with that such a passion of grief overwhelmed her heart, that her speech abruptly broke off, and more she would have said but could not, that the ladies took her up, being fallen into a deadly trance, and conveyed her to her bed.  
Thus was the whole Court and City replete with care, every one uttering their fancies: the younger for accusing Maximus of cruelty, alleging that he was cause of those cares: the elder condemning the two y●ung Princes ●●lewdnesse and lightness, that would enter into these actions without the●● parents consent. And two Noblemen returned again to Maximu● with these news, which added new cares to his troubled head, y● Angelica● èscape did not so much grieve him, as that Marcellus should both be Authorin her escape, and also would make so base a choice of Dulcia, with whom, all were assured he was ●ied, neither did all these so much ve●e him, as that he was disappointed of all means to revenge these wrongs.  
Maximus continued many days in the maiden Tower, calling together all the knights of the land, commanding them to make all diligent search, and to appoint some that should stay in every place of the country, and examine every passenger, for that his mind gave him, Angelica and Marcellus were within Getulia: This business was so speedily and so exactly performed, that it was impossible for them to escape unknown or undescried.  
Marcellus the next night after all the tumults, having by many persuasions and entreaties won Dulcia to stay with Panora, and with promise of his speedy return, armed himself in the Armour he had gotten and departed from thence, with intent to go to Saint Austin's Chapel, where he was sure he should hear of Parismenos, and by the way met with many of the Getulian knights, who knew him not but by his armour, took him to be a Getulian knight named Portellus, whose armour Marcellus had put on: this Portellus was a knight of the king's Court, who not long since was departed into Libya without the knowledge of any but▪ Marcellus, who had sent him to view Venolas beauty, and to learn if he could the original of that accusation was laid against the knight of Fame, in whose armour Marcellus passed without suspicion, being taken of all for Portellus.  
Early the next morning he arrived at S. Austin's Chapel, where he would neither knock nor enter, until ●e was sure there were none to descry him. When jabin first saw him, his heart was tormented with fear, demanding what he would have. Fear not jabin (quoth he) I am your friend Marcellus: with that he entered into the Chapel, whom jabin would not suffer to go further, until he had seen his face, which when he beheld, he embraced him most lovingly, and without speaking a word brought him into his Cell, where was Parismenos, Angelica, and Anna, who all at once beholding him, and he them, embraced each other with exceeding joy, being so glad they had met, that Angelica wept for joy, Parismenos surfeited with delight, and Marce●lus heart was filled with exceeding content: when these storms of joy were past and somewhat calmed, Marcellus declared to them all that had happened, and how that Maximus had set most di●igent spies in every co●ner of the country, and withal, declared the ●ause why he was fled ●he manner, and with whom, his love to Dulcia▪ how he had left her with Panora, and how happily he had passed unsuspected in Portellus Armour, which when they heard, they all applauded, and rejoiced at his fortunate success▪ to whom Angelica said with a merry countenance: Dulcia hath lost nothing by assuming my name and habit, but thereby hath won a constant knights love, and may hereafter by that means come to be a Queen. Indeed Marcellus whatsoever others may say, I persuade and assure myself, you have gotten a virtuous, beautiful, chaste, kind, and loving Ladies love, whose good parts I have often commended in my secret thoughts, but now am glad that I have so good opportunity to speak of them in your hearing: what though she be not of kingly race, her virtues are such as may beseem the best Lady in the world.  
Marcellus was glad to hear Angelica so much commend his beloved Dulcia, that he said: Indeed Sister I have chosen Dulcia, I love her, and will hereafter be tr●e to her, for her beauty, virtue, and good parts, do please me so much, that if I live to enjoy the Getul●an ●rowne, she shallbe my Queen: withal, I am glad you have met your knight, of whose company I am sure you are not a little glad. With that Angelica blushed, and he said: Nay Sister blush not, for he hath better deserved your love, then Dulcia hath mine.  
In these and such like communications, they spent the rest of that day, studying and devising what might be their best course to take in these troublesome affairs.  
After that Marcellus had stayed some time with Parismenos and Angelica in Saint Austin's Chapel, he again departed in Portellus armour towards Dulcia, where he arrived to her exceeding comfort, without suspicion, wishing that she had been with Angelica, that he might have enjoyed both her and their company together.  
After Marcellus was departed, Parismenos and Angelica began to study which way they might escape Maximus cruelty, being both desirous to go into Bohemia, but they knew not how to pass without being discovered, for that the King still continued his diligent search: and beside, if that let had not been, yet the journey was so long and dangerous, that Parismenos was unwilling to endanger her person and health thereby, that he was drawn to an exceeding astonishment what were best to be done: that being unskilful of themselves what to determine off, they asked old jabines' counsel▪ w●● present▪ lie told them, that if they liked his simple fare▪ and that ●emely ●●ll. where though they were not daintily served, yet they were quiet, that he thought it their best course to stay there still until Maximus were out of hope to find them, and had given over his search, or at the least until Marcellus were returned, whose counsel they both allowed and followed.  
Maximus still remeained in the Maiden Tower, fretting his heart with vexation and grief, being put out of all comfort by his Knights that daily returned without any news, that in the end he was tired with grief, and fared like one in a desperate estate: but by the counsel of his Nobles, after much trouble and long search, he returned to the Court where the Queen was, to comfort her: who at his coming he found very sick, and in very weak estate, being procured by the grief she had conceived for her children's loss. Maximus seeing her in that dangerous estate, began to comfort her with many persuasions: but she was so impatient and ●o full of grief, that she uttered these speeches. Comfort, my Lord, cometh now out of season, when our griefs are past remedy, which you might have salved when time served: it is your curiosity and too fond suspect, that hath bred these mischances, you give too much credit to that ●oule enchantress speeches, which yourself desire to prove true, or else you would never take those cruel courses you have done with your children. Might you not often have married Angelica according to your desire, to many Honourable and great personages? what i● she be now married, can that endanger your life, unless you will be the wilful actor thereof yourself? but by your severity you have done this, which is now impossible to be recovered.  
Maximus heart at these speeches began to melt with lenity, and his own conscience began to condemn himself, that now he repenteth the severity he had used, and accused himself of folly, to give such credit to the enchantress speeches, that he protested if he had his children again, he would not restrain them so much of their liberty, but that he would let them make choice according to their own fancies: and in this heavy estate we will leave him: devising what means to work by gentleness to call them home again.  
Marcellus all this while continued with Dulcia in Lady Pa●oras house, and now hearing that Maximus was returned from the ●aide● Tower, and had given over search, as hopeless to find either Angelica,  〈…〉