DIANEA: AN EXCELLENT NEW ROMANCE.  
Written in ITALIAN BY GIO. FRANCISCO LOREDANO A Noble VENETIAN.  
In FOUR BOOKS.  
Translated into ENGLISH BY Sir ASTON COKAINE.  
LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Mosel●y at the sign of the Prince's Arms in Saint Paul's Churchyard, 1654.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LADY MARY COKAINE, Vicecountess CULLEN.  
MADAM,  
THis Princess of Cyprus, in Gratitude for the Honour you did her, whilst she was Dressing in her English Apparel, (For you were pleased to grace her History with the acceptation of my prime Intention and promise that her Loves and Misfortunes should visit our tumultuous World under the serene Auspice of your Protection) now implores the Security of that Glory; That (whilst she makes her Progress through this Land) she may triumph in such a Favour to an utter Stranger; who hereafter (in recompense for your pious Hospitality) will report your Worths to the Italian Ladies, and consecrate eternal Pyramids to your meritorions Memory, when she returns into her own Kingdom. I must also (Madam) give you Thanks for your too kind Approbation of my poor Endeavour to do her service: But the Favour lies in your own unparallelled Goodness, whose excellent Spirit is replete with as many of the sublimest virtues as your beautiful body is composed of Regal and noble Bloods, derived to you from illustrious Families of England and Ireland. My best of Friends, Colonel Edward Stamford, gave me the Author, and entreated me to teach him our Language; The Dedication was therefore due to him: but he is Owner of so much Courtship, as (without offence) to give place to a Lady. So beseeching you (Madam) to accept graciously this small testimony of my Thankfulness for your Civilities to this Cyprian Princess, whom I have waited on into England; and kissing your Hand for your Courtesy to me, who present her to remain under the Palace of your Tuition; I subscribe myself from my Hand and Heart  
(MADAM) Your humble Servant, ASTON COKAINE.   

The Author's Epistle To the most Illustrious and most excellent Signior, my most honoured Signior; the Signior DOMINICO da MOLINO, GIO. FRANCISCO LOREDANO.  
I Have thought never to interest any in the Protection of my Writings. Divers times when my Genius hath carried me to the Press, I have always slighted Dedication either as rash, or as superfluous. Great Things are Defences to themselves; nor should Jove be invited to be Patron to a Pigmy. But the Merit of your Excellency, that can excuse the Ambition of any Wit that is covetous his Labours should visit the Light under such an Ascendant of Felicity, hath persuaded me to glorify my Name, by subscribing it to that of your Excellency; whom I believe the World is too poor of Encomiums to celebrate sufficiently. Behold therefore recommended to the favour of your Excellency, the Princess DIANEA, who ambitiously runs to humble herself to those Greatnesses, which provoke Observances even from Princesses themselves. I (in the History of her) have been desirous to try if the Opinion of Philoxenus, that neither Flesh to Flesh, nor Fish to Fish gave a precedency, hath also the same effect in Fable to Fable. May your Excellency please to receive in the poverty of the gift; the desire of that Hand, that would erect to you Statues of Mountains, and make you Pictures of the Heavens. Lastly, I most humbly bow to you.  
From VENICE the 25 of October, 1635.   

The First Book of DIANEA.  
THe Moon was not as yet worshipped in the East, neither yet had the Empire of Asia received command from the Tyranny of one alone, where in an Island of the Carpatian Sea a gallant Galley came to shore; It was furnished with all those Ornaments that could render Majesty and Strength. To escape the Anger of Heaven, which with building Mountains of waves threatened Precipices to those within, it was retired into this Island: where between two mighty Rocks that made a Creek it promised itself all security. The Rowers having cast Anchors, made a ladder, and suddenly there was seen to come forth of it a most beautiful Lady, which tormented (I know not whether more) by the incommodities of the Sea, or the passions of the heart, could hardly be sustained by the arm of a Knight that accompanied her. Her Majesty and Apparel shown her of great birth; The honour that was done to her by all made her known to be Lady of them all. Tears and sighs did not prejudice that Beauty, which being infinite could not be subject to the accidents of sorrow. The Knight, not to be disturbed by the confused noise of those in the Galley, led her aside into a Thicket of Trees, where it appeared that Nature had emulated, and outgone itself; Here sending back those who followed him, accompanying and interrupting his words with their complaints, he thus began to entreat her: How long (Princess) shall the rigours of your disdain continue? How long will you keep that hate which renders you incapable of my affections? That which I can pretend to, by the right of War, by the merit of justice, by the obligement of correspondency, I would find it in your gift, and I beseech it as a grace; Princess, disdain not that heart which so much the more deserves affection, because it seeks that by favour which is its own by justice. If at other times you have refused me, because I was your vassal, you cannot now do so, being become subject to me. Accommodate the greatness of your mind to the encounters of a new Fortune, for I pretend to no more but your Love; you ought to comfort yourself, that among so many lost you have gained one to make you, not only to preserve you a Queen. I will not say I love you, because with women that ordinarily cannot love, or do not credit it, an enamoured heart finds no recompense. Past things may be desired, not recovered. Tears and afflictions never open Sepulchers, or make the dead rise. There is no grief that can move pity in the Destinies; You have to an excess satisfied the Obligations you owed to nature, you are now engaged to pay those of Interest, and Reason. Any patience but a Lovers (such as I am) would have been changed into fury. I hope to dissuade you from your obstinacy, because I cannot persuade myself that you had rather fall into the precipices of my disdain, than exalt yourself over the affection of my heart. The Princess, full of the sense of passion and disdain, not able longer to endure these words, that wounded her soul, replied thus.  
I would not answer you (Duke) the words of a Traitor, deserving none: But that you may perceive your hopes desperate in my resolutions, I protest before all the Deities of Heaven, that rather than be thine I would encounter death a thousand times. Treacherous man, hast thou polluted thy hands with the blood of thy Prince▪ does yet those massacred unburied bodies proclaim to heaven thy disloyalty, and attempts thee to possess me! I complain of nature, that making me a woman hath denied me the use of weapons to chastise thy perfidiousness; but yet I assure myself, that the Justice of the Gods will not leave unpunished so execrable a Patricide. I hope to see thee (Traitor) betrayed by thyself, to fall in thy own Treacheries; She proceeded, but he interrupting her said, Princess I have not affection for her that despises me; nether can I love where I am hated; you may well enough vent the injustices of your passions without injuring me; wrong not my hands to betray my heart, neither urge me to a necessity to correct the errors of your tongue. I fear (thou wicked man) replied the Princess, thy love much more than thy hatred. Thy furies have no power over the Decree of Heaven, which hath rendered thee a slave to me. In these treacheries of thine I triumph over thy perfidiousness, neither do I bewail me of thy cruelty, traitors being always so. Affection could no longer keep the fomentations of Anger within the Duke's breast, being so much the more insupportable by reason they strooke home to his Conscience; Patience offended by just reproofs hath no bridle that can curb it. He shown by the paleness of his Face, the lightning of his eyes, with the striking of his hands, that love and disdain combated in his heart. He was ready to rush into some excess of revenge, when he was suspended by some confused voices, which being lost among the multitude of those Trees, strooke his ears with an unknown murmur. The remoteness of the place he was in afforded him not distinction to discern from whence they came. His Imagination being transported upon variety of things, not knowing what to persuade himself, or resolve, he perceived one of his Knights, who much troubled ran to seek him. Scarce could the Duke ask the novelty of this noise, but he understood his Galley was assaulted by Pirates, and in danger to be lost without his help. He would hear no more, but committing the care of the Princess to that Knight, ran with all speed to their relief.  
The Princess at this recovered spirit, hoping they were her Subjects coming to fight for her and redeem her; when she understood that for a certain they were Pirates, she consulted with Celardo (for so the Knight was named) to secure herself from the tyranny of the Duke, or the cruelty of the Pirates; The hands of both of them execrable and dangerous. They soon resolved to walk towards the top of some little Mount to search for a place of refuge. They were scarce got up one, but they discovered, as well as sight could discern, a most fair City, which for the quantity of Buildings, the multiplicity of Gardens, the highness of the Walls, made them imagine it one of the greatest, of the strongest, and the most delicious of the World. They also perceived, not very far from them, a most majestic Palace, which rather buried than hid with the thickness of the trees, afforded not liberty to the eye to see the beauties of it; They went towards it, but losing their way they stood still, weary, and daunted. Disasters, hunger, and the voyage, had so afflicted the Princess, that she acknowledged herself unable to move a step further. Celardo beseeched her to repose herself at the foot of that Hill in a Plain till he had gone to speak with some body, and should bring her some hope of a Lodging, and some comfort to her weariness. The Palace they had discovered, of necessity could not be very far off, and that it agreed not with possibility, that a Country so rich and fertile should not be infinite full of people. The Princess consented, and laying her down upon the grass, blamed Love and Fortune that had dealt so unhappily with her, that now she hoped for no greater consolation than to lose her life. Ever & anon she breathed out most hot sighs, which accompanied with an abundancy of tears would have awakened the sense of pity in the fierceness of Tigers, and in the hardness of Rocks. Whiles her Passions transported her heart into a thousand thoughts, she perceived from afar herself to be called with reiterated voices; She arose not without fear, and casting her eyes to that part where she heard her name so redoubled, she saw it was the Duke, who in all haste descended the Mountain; she accounted herself a dead woman. There was not a Deity in heaven which she did not implore. She would have fled, but oppressed either with weariness, or fear, she was constrained, to keep her from falling, to lean to a stone, which butted out from all the other of the Mountain; she hardly touched it but it stirred of itself, as if stones had that pity which she could not find in men; She thrust it a little back, and perceived that it damned up the entrance of a very large Cave, as might be guessed at the first sight. It was there with such Art hung upon Hinges, that very easily it closed up, and opened the Passage. Without, the greatness of it appeared much less, and in such wise it was situated, that it seemed Nature had produced it, and that it was not a Fabric of Art. It opened inwardly, and when it was secured with the Bolt all the force of the World could not suffice to stir it. The Princess remained a while doubtful; she conceited she dreamt, or else persuaded herself, that the Gods, moved to pity by her tears, had discovered this place of shelter, which could only preserve her honesty, and life. It appeared strange to her to be buried by herself in a Cave; But the present fear of falling again into the Duke's hands made her careless of considering future dangers. Being entered into the Grott, and fearing to be pursued, she secured the Mouth of it with some small Bar, which stood by for that purpose. Then she went hastily towards where she saw a great light, and came into a Court, which being adorned with most beautiful Pillars, and of the finest Marble, appeared rather to be a receptacle of the Gods than a Sepulchre of men, as she had imagined. It had in the midst of it a most large Fountain, which from seven Statues of the best polished Alabaster sent forth fair and crystalline waters: Here the Princess stayed, and her thirst allayed, occasioned by fear and labour, doubtful in her self what she should hope for in these extremes of her misery; she was over-taken by a sweet sleep, the effect either of her weariness, or the murmur of those waters.  
The Duke in the mean while, who had never lost sight of her while he descended the Hill, arrived at the Rock where he supposed her hid. He stood astonished when he saw no place for such a purpose, and that she could not have escaped his eyes, if she were not transformed into those Rocks. Nevertheless he forbore not to search with his hands if it were possible to discover any Entrance. Whiles he remained in this anxious solicitude, that he could neither credit his sight nor touch, he heard himself railed at by a voice not known to him. Turning himself speedily, he perceived it was a Knight with a naked sword in his hand, that uttered those words, and now defied him to the Battle, menacing death to him. The Duke retiring backwards some few paces, suddenly drew his sword, and said: Thou art come hither at this time to satiate the justice of my Anger. I will, that thou givest me an account of that Princess who can be no bodies but mine; That Knight hearing the name of Princess, encountered him with such a fury, that notwithstanding any defence the Duke could make, he began to treat him so foully, that he rather seemed to defend his life than offend his enemy; Yet not showing the least sign of baseness, his foot slipping, he fell down in a sound, ready to die, I know not whether by reason of his wounds, or fall; Although the Knight was even blinded with passion, and his wrath he conceived it unagreeing to his generous spirit to be cruel to a Carcase; not being able to imagine who he should be by the lineaments of his face, though he had a very great desire to have received some information, supposing him dead he departed, though himself was in danger of his life, not so much of the wounds he received of the Duke, which were only two, and of small consideration, as for grief he found within himself. He would not go toward the City, resolving to withdraw himself into some place, where far from those Objects that might increase the torments of his mind, he might pass over the wretched remnant of those years which Fortune promised him.  
Celardo in the interim having followed that Path which appeared most beaten, after a long compass having found no body that could inform him of any house, or the state of the Country, he came where he heard a noise of weapons. He saw an old man, that with an admirable dexterity and strength defended himself from the blows of four Knights, who with no ordinary valour assaulted him for his life. His back he secured by a great Tree, and with such a readiness managed his sword, that in that unequal fight he left not his enemies hope of their lives, much less of victory. He had nevertheless received three wounds, two in the thigh, and one in the head, which though not mortal, yet bleeding extremely began to make him faint. Celardo, although he preferred his return to the Princess, could not curb the bravery of his spirit, and undauntedness which he had from his birth: He persuaded himself that at two blows he should free himself from those, who showing themselves traitors, could not be but cowards. First, he began with his voice, and after with his hands to encourage the mind of the old Knight, who now looked to nothing but to ward himself. At the first blow he struck down one, who to show himself the valiantest would precede his Companions in death. Another of them, bleeding infinitely, despairing of life, hardly able to sustain himself on his legs, uniting all the forces of his last strength, threw his sword, half whereof only remained in his hands. It hit the old man on the Face, who astonished with it, dropped down, whiles the other ready to die fell by him. Celardo in very short time killed the other two, having received two hurts, one in his left arm, and the other in the right shoulder. He ran hastily to the old Knight, who now arose from the ground, and came to thank him, he having preserved his life. He asked him, how he found himself of his wounds, perceiving him bloody, and rejoiced much when he understood they were of little moment, whilst he hoped his own were not mortal. He invited him to be cured in a house of his not far off thence, where he had a desire to express some sign of his gratitude; saying, it was not his custom to be altogether overcome by benefits, and that he would correspond to the Obligation with those services that his present Fortune afforded him. Celardo, thanking the Knight, replied, That a Lady that depended on his protection, to whom (by his own choice) he had engaged his heart, and that now by destiny called on him to exercise the Functions of his Debt, remained not far off expecting him, where he would much rather leave his life than to be wanting in any thing she could look for from him, both for the satisfaction of his promise, and the obligation of his faith; That teaching him the way he should receive lodging as a singular courtesy, being himself a stranger in strange Countries. The old Knight seemed satisfied: but by any means he would accompany him to guide him after back to his own house. They proceeded not far in these Compliments, more courteous than necessary to the business of their wounds, which swollen and smarted so that they could hardly stand, much less undertake a journey. Celardo inflamed with anger against himself, that he could not suffer an ill of so little value was ready to run mad, when galloping at full speed a most beautiful Virgin arrived there, attended on by eight Squires all armed, and on horseback, to the aid of the old Knight. She rejoiced infinitely, finding him alive, and in a state of health, being come thither with an opinion that she should rather revenge than secure him. She ran hastily with tears of joy to embrace him, and with a certain balsam she had purposely brought thither, she anointed his wounds, which although not mortal, were for all that very considerable by the loss of much blood. Before she attempted to cure that on his head, to the great amazement of Celardo, she took off that beard, and thatvery long hair which was false, and made him seem much ancienter than he was. Having bound up the wounds of the Knight, now restored to youth again, she did the same to Celardo, who was much more hurt than he imagined. Being mounted on horseback, by the help of the Squires, they all went to look the Princess, although with a civil violence Celardo had beseeched them to return home, leaving a Squire with him to serve him as a Guide. They arrived at the Plain, where Celardo, not finding the Princess, had died for grief, if Oleandro and Arnalta, for so was the Knight and Damsel called, had not comforted him, and overcome him with persuasions, and prayers, that he should not be cruel to himself: Nor had he been won to have departed from that Mountain, if conquered by the violence of passion he had not lost his senses. Oleandro with all speed commanded a chair to be made of the boughs of those trees, and as well as he could made him be carried to his house, which was not above three miles off. It was situated in the midst of a Plain, which with the length and breadth of it took up the space of ten miles. About it ran a very deep River, which rendered the situation of it no less fair than strong. There were some engines to overflow all the ground with, to the height of a man, which at the same time both made the earth fertile, and secured it from treacheries.  
Here Celardo was laid, they procuring all means for him, either useful to end the cure of of his Body, or trouble of his mind. Six days he remained in danger of his life, and if Arnulta with her diligences, or at least with her beauty had not brought him some remedy, he had been in danger to have fall'n into the hands of death. Many times she had told him, That to despair was the last of evils; That if the Lady, whom with so great a feeling of sorrow he bemoaned, were dead, tears were superfluous, if alive, not necessary. That living he might find out some means to content his affections, but so unhandsomely to give over himself to die, besides the sign of a courage less than ordinary, it deprived that Lady of a Protector, and himself of any hope ever to satisfy those Obligations he professed so great to her. What cannot reasons effect, proceeding from a mouth that knows to persuade even without words! Celardo with a silent answer acknowledged himself convinced, and attended nothing but the recovery of his health. Nevertheless sometimes he could not be so alienate from himself by his pain, as not to fix his memory on the Princess. He accused his negligence in leaving a Lady of so high descent, in a Country not known, and in a Wood to the mercy of Beasts, and not men only; He blamed Fortune, that having delivered her into his power was a Tyrant to him, making him lose her before he had well got her. Lastly, he was angry with the stars, that had not suffered him to be borne, but to see him always miserable.  
One day, that he by himself was thinking on his misfortunes, he was surprised by Oleandro, who was now cured, and came, as he was accustomed, to visit him. He blushed to see himself so taken, endeavouring to conceal those tears that apace fell from him. He would not communicate his sorrows to any but himself, esteeming complaints unbeseeming a Knight, being only allowed to the weakness of women. Oleandro suffering him to give a stop to his grief, began thus to speak to him. If I had not these eyes witnesses of your virtue, I should form some sinister opinion of your courage. I cannot bethink me, how a mind that is greater than Fortune, and hath means in its own power to raise Glories to itself, can submit to the violence of sorrow, so much the more unseasonable, because it hath no foundation above opinion and fear. I speak freely, because the acquaintance that is between us, and the Obligation that I have professed to you, will not permit I should belly the thoughts of my heart. To lament too much is to betray one's self. It was not fit those should be borne and live that will not be aimed at by the stroke of destiny. We are all equally made liable to infortunities. And this humane condition of ours hath no greater certainty than to be engaged to all Accidents; with this law we came into the World, and between terms so unhappily hath Nature placed us, as to have no sense of it on one side, is a sign of stupidity: so to despair at it is altogether the effect of weakeness. The body will sometimes exercise those functions to which it is inclined by the corruption of its beginning, yet notwithstanding, it is necessary that the mind which hath the sovereignty of power over it, should calm those motions that may depress the virtue of the Intellect. Sense ought never to overcome reason, but in those who have no other reason but sense.  
He would have proceeded farther, but Celardo prevented him, saying, These opinions were true yet to be wished for. Every Physician knows how to forbid that to another which he will not deny to himself. That there is nothing less easy than to give Counsel: and that the tongue is easier to be moved than the heart. Oleandro replied, he spoke not at random, but could authenticate his Maxims by examples. And that if it would not be troublesome for him to hear, he would let him know all the circumstances of his Fortune, which always would have enthralled him to sorrow, but that he with a generous sufferance made himself thought one of the happiest men in the World. Celardo showing a great curiosity to know, professing he had been silent of his own desires, for fear he might offend him, constrained him with a kind of affectionate violence to the discourse of his misfortunes.  

The History of Oleandro.  
I, said Oleandro, in despite of Fate, that could deprive me of a Kingdom, but not of the Character of a Prince; am King of Morocco: My Father, in one year's space, lamented the death of his Queen, the Rape of his Daughter, the loss of his Kingdom, and the ruin of his House: Seeing that Fortune had torn her sail, and bound up her hair, not to transport elsewhere, the effects of her inconstancy, and the bitterness of her griefs, he abandoned the wretched remnants, which the insatiate covetousness of his enemies had not plundered from him. But before his departure, he recommended to Felido Count of Olano, a Prince of the blood, of an experimented virtue, the protection of me and my life. He was not deceived in his Election: In his private fortune he had his Education from the Prince. There was not any thing which could awaken, or molest my design, which I did not attain to. Virtue was my employment, exercise on horseback my profession, and hunting my pastime. He, when he perceived the nobleness of my Genius, seeing me also sixteen years of Age, he persuaded me to the recovery of my Father's Kingdom: That sloth was the worst of evils; and that these years should not be slighted which so speedily pass away. That old men's courages very hardly provoke the commonalty to an innovation of Government: As much as he delays his Claim, so much he loses of his Cause; with three Maxims likewise he tied the affections of the chief that were obliged to the memory of my Father, the news of his death after his departure, being every where verified. He finds them most ready who hate the Tyrants, compassionate my misfortunes; they see in my Person, the Spirits of my Progenitors flourish, and cannot away with that new Model of Government, which being unjust, cannot be but cruel. They prepare Arms and Soldiers, and excite those affectionated to the Crown, and persuade the neighbour Princes with all possible secrecy; when the enemies advertized, either from jealousy, the protector of Estates, or fear, the discoverer of dangers, or from the reports of Fame, which cannot even conceal the Dreams of Princes, glutted themselves with all barbarism with the lives of those that maintained my Title. The Count seeing in the night time, the principallest of his Forts betrayed by the infidelity of his, not by the Valour of the Enemy; regarding more my safety then his own, let me out at a private Gate, disguised in poor , while he put on mine, and made himself taken by a deceit, that my escape being known, I should not be pursued.  
Death will be the least of his evils; for besides the envy of his Emulatours, he had the hate of the Tyrants, who infinitely often at any price had requested my life of him; my disguise carried me safe from every danger, nor missed I any thing that offended me: I departed from Morocco, deploring my misfortune, that would not permit me an occasion to exercise the undauntedness of my heart, or the strength of my sword. I embarked for Numidia, to tug, if Fortune would change by the alteration of Climes. The injuries of Tempests, of Heaven, of Lightnings, accompanied me in my Voyage. When one is once made the scope of the miseries of fate, he only knows what 'tis to be unhappy.  
I came ashore in Danae, a Region of Numidia, because destiny there had provided for me greater miseries. Afoot I walked toward Tesset, the Metropolis of the Kingdom, accompanied by the sorrow of those thoughts which had almost made me beyond myself; the Heaven served for my Canopy, and my grief for a Sentinel, which admitted me not to have the multiplicity of wild Beasts, which Africa breeds: I was four miles short of Tesset, when I felt my ears struck with schreekes and lamentations of a fair woman. She fled from Death, which the treachery of four privy Murderers menaced her with. Her  were extremely rich, which shown her to be a Lady of no ordinary descent. Her embroideries, pearl, and gold, were out-vide by the comeliness of her Face, and the beauty of her hair, which stirred up and down by the wind and raining; it seems they were moved towards Heaven, to contend for splendour with that of Ariadne, her beauty not at all diminished by fear, made me admire how it did not stir up aid in the cruelty of those hearts. She scarce saw me, but both with her love and by signs, she implored my aid. Her entreaties were delivered with such an inbred stateliness, that they seemed rather commands then prayers. I suddenly laid hand on my sword, and justice favouring me in despite of my ill fortune, they all there lost their lives. She ran to render me thanks, having seen vengeance taken of her enemies, without hurt to myself. After some few short compliments, she told me the danger her Father was in; showing me the way to him, I went to him with all speed, and saved his life, who was encompassed with most eminent dangers. Their kind embraces, and the honours they did me, amazed me. These were the King of Numidia, and his daughter, that tracing a Stag, had lost themselves, and were assaulted by those Arabians, who with their Nurse's milk, suck in hatred to that Crown. I rendered thanks to the gods, and Fortune, who now grew weary to afflict me with an infelicity of successes. I accounted myself blest, only for preserving from Death so great a King, and so fair a Princess. No body can be thought happy or miserable, who hath not tried all accidents: The fairness of a day is not despaired of for the Clouds, which are seen before Sunrising. Our wounds were hardly bound up, but the Courtiers came upon us, who with abundance of care, poured forth their vows for their Prince's safety. They conducted us into Tesset, where we were encountered with those applauses, wherewith Subjects manifest their affections. At the foot of the Palace stairs was the Queen accompanied with a daughter, attended by a multitude of Ladies. They reigned from their eyes, two most lively showers of tears, which issue not always from the fountain of sorrow; whom they had lamented for dead, with his daughter, they cannot yet be satisfied to see alive and embrace. Thank, (said the King) this Knight pointing to me, from whose Valour next to the gods, I acknowledge my safety and life; I profess myself in so high a manner beholding to him, that should I give him my Crown, I should not in part have paid what I own him; for it is his, and I received it from him, both through his good fortune and courtesy. The modest conceit I had of myself forced me with blushes to answer his good opinion of me. I was made his companion in the Palace, and a while after, one of his Royal Council; and by many that flattered their own hopes in my greatness, I was almost reverenced, as the Heir and successor of the Kingdom. My mind exalted by the beginning of these felicities lost within a few days, the remembrance of its misfortunes. The thoughts of regaining my Father's Kingdom, and to ease my subjects of their miseries, the love that I took to the Infanta Ariama, at that time I freed her from the ravenousness of the Arabians, drove out of my mind. The benignity of her favours, the comeliness of her countenance, the continuation of seeing her, would have subdued the obdurateness of any heart, not only mine, easy to receive any impression through the weakness of youth and in experience. Dissemble some few days concealed my fire, which presently after becoming insupportable, made me subject to a most dangerous sickness. The King, careful for my recovery, assisted at my bed, comforted me in my undiscovered sorrows, and bemoaned me as if it were his own disease. The Physicians despairing to find out the cause, refused to visit me, having no hope at all left them of my life.  
I did receive no other comfort, but from the Presence of my fair Infanta. Not only my recovery, but life depended on the sight of her. One day the Queen and the Princess, attentive at the consultation of the Physicians, or because she saw in the sadness of my countenance, the bitterness of my sorrows, or because she read in my eyes, the indelible Characters of my affection, with much ado refraining from tears, she said to me. Then (O Knight) shall your obstinacy deprive us of your Person! Is it possible, that dissimulation is more prevalent over your will, than my entreaties! If you deny this, not to receive redress for your Malady, confess it to comfort me. I love you Sir, for the debt of gratitude I own you, and by the election of my will; without you I cannot, neither will I live. Discover then your griefs, either that they may meet with remedy, or to comfort them with the company of my tears. I that was troubled with no other grief, but with doubtful thoughts of her affection, and the poorness of my Fortune, although borne a Prince, and whom fear of repulse had made rather choose death then her disdain; at the sound of these words, felt my spirits recovered, and believed myself well. Not containing myself for joy, I thus answered; Fair Infanta, my griefs have had original from your beauty, I have concealed in the cinders of dissimulation those fires that turn my heart into ashes: My poor merit compared to your real greatness, rendered the desires of my affection impossible. I rather preferred to encounter death, than occasion your displeasure. Now that the excesses of your benignity have emboldened me with these words, I will lay open before you my most inward wounds, and I attend from the favours of your munificence that help which the knowledge of my condition denies me. If the care of your malady (replied the Infanta) depend upon my will, rise, for you are well. The honesty of your desires shall have their end, and correspondency in my affection. Do not deceive me to flatter my hopes, for you know what love can do in the breast of a woman, that will and knows to love.  
The arrival of the Mother and the Princess, with Physicians, broke off the continuance of this discourse, who found in me extraordinary signs of an unexpected health. They were amazed at so sudden an alteration, and blamed the imperfection of their Art, that (founding the reasons of it upon an experience altered by the diversity of complexions) astonished them at my amendment, as if they were altogether ignorant of my disease; Yet there was among them, some that made a doubt of my life. They were fixed upon a rule, though common, fallacious; that in a body extenuated by fastings, grieved by infirmity, and straightened of remedies, Nature would not be wanting of a sudden to receive extraordinary helps; And these they said were the last strengths of it. Experience contradicted their reasons: They soon saw my amendment, being durable, had real foundations. The strength of my body they increased with most precious meats, but with regard to the quantity, which at first they denied me, lest the digestion interrupted or suffocated, should bring me into a more dangerous sickness afterwards. Plenty of Physic, and the visits of the Physicians, and the affection of the most beautiful Infanta, recovered me. Those few days I kept my bed in. I endeavoured to contrive how we might enjoy the pleasures of our desire, as a sign of her affection, she had bestowed kindly a kiss on me, I having formerly told her my birth, and given her my faith. She obliged herself, when I was healed to bring me into her lodgings, my desire made me well before my time, neither did she deceive me in her promise. She trusted her thoughts and affections to the Duchess of Corona, beseeching her assistance. She to dissuade her, made use of all reasons and entreaties, but in vain: Love hath not reason, nor receives persuasion contrary to the will of them that love. Fear represented to her prodigies of my ruin: Whereupon she doubted whether she had best reveal it to the King. But the good will she bore the Princess, and high opinion she had of me, witheld her. She aided us to the fruition of our, loves impossible, but by her means.  
The severeness of this happiness, continued but for a very little while: In the which I had consulted with the Infanta, of requesting of her Father, Arms and Money, for the regaining of my Kingdom; when Fortune, that till now had made truce with my griefs, united all the forces of her strength to ruin me. This short calm served to no other purpose but to make me trust to her, intending to make me drink of a Sea of misery. The Princess Arelida became enamoured of me, who with divers and extraordinary favours forced herself to discover her affections. At Dance she would always dance with me; at Hunt, be even with me, and at Torneaments, give me constantly her Favour to wear: whence she would have me take notice, that excessive honours proceeded not from an ordinary affection; I counterfeited with such cunning to take no notice of it, that she found herself prevented and hopeless. But because the power of Love receives no hindrance from modesty; one day feigning herself indisposed, she made me be called to her, and after some courteous Compliments passed, she thus spoke to me.  
Is it possible (Oleandro) that I should be so little skilled in the practics of Love, and you so knowing of his Favours! Some few days ago, I know not what provoked me to discover my flame. Your modesty, or my ill luck blinded you. I am desirous to restore your sight, finding my heart too narrow for so overflowing excesses of Love. Dear friend Oleandro, I love you; if you believe not my tongue, the interpreter of my mind, and faithful revealer of my intentions, give credit to these tears, true signs of an extraordinary affection, and blood of my heart. The Nobleness of your conditions, the honesty of your actions, the sublimity of your mind, and the comeliness of your countenance, tyrannize over the freeness of my will, the greatness of my Birth, the modesty of my conditions, and the blushes of my face. I should have feared rather to have gained by this boldness your indignation, than affection, if I knew not your worth so great, that it would excuse even the errors of Princesses. She offends not, that bestows her affection on a deserving object. The gods rejoice to be beloved by all. The Laws of Cupid punish the ingrateful that love not, not those that do: Nor is there any such thing, that honesty is contrary to affection; For I love you with a desire to live with you as a wife, not to enjoy you as a servant, my birth is not capable of so base thoughts; my desires have no meaning that may blemish the candidness of their ends. If you be a Prince, as I shall not believe you if you deny it, you have no reason to refuse my Nuptials; I hoping both by the Law of Nature, and right of succession, to be a Queen: If you be not of so high a condition, you ought then to embrace this occasion that invites you to the possession of me, and thereby of the Kingdom. If you discern any want in any of these Motives, my affection ought to have power over the hardness of your thoughts, to win you to afford me your consent. The World hath not treasure enough to recompense the affection of a Princess: Correspondence alone is the only reward of love. Love me then, and with an obstinate resolution disdain not the benignity of Fortune, which proffers you the possession of a beauty, esteemed singular by many that have desired it, and the sovereignty over so great a people, that would even weary the ambition of an Alexander!  
With these words the Princess set a period to her speech, attending with great alterations of mind (giving signs thereof, with various colours in her face, and with submiss entreaties of her eyes) my answer. A while I stood silent; after I reflected, that to make a Princess hopeless of her love, would prove a Precipice to my affections: That women are not accustomed to receive denials in those things, which for the most part are proffered them before hand. That blush that inflames the countenance of a Princess to gain the Love of her beloved, if refused, is converted into scorn, to take from her eyes the memory of her rejection. Therefore after some Compliments, thanking her noble disposition, that (without any regard of my condition) had enriched me with the graces of her affection, I beseeched her to remember the greatness of her Birth, the pooreness of my state, and the frowns of his Majesty, the indignation of his subjects; and lasty, that her love having no foundation of Merit, was likely in short time to decay, and leave me in danger of my life; and that herself (with it converted into dislike) to glorify her desires, and conceal her blushes, would procure me harm with such like reasons; some days I entertained the enamoured Princess, who deceived by an appearance, of these excuses, did not conceive me so far from consenting to her desires. last; one day while I was walking in a Garden, she came and took me by the hand, and led me under an Arbour, where any bodies curiosities could not discover us, and earnestly beseeched me, either to consent to her desires, or to disclose mine. That my excuses were apparent; That the satisfaction of a Princess ought not to be offended, though the doubts of misfortune were near. Whereupon, not enduring any longer the importunity of her Prayers, seeing the mischief brought to such a pass, that Lenitives were no longer necessary, I took upon me a resolution to undeceive her; for I had agreed to do so with my Infanta, who, forth of jealousy, had had a falling out with me. She had told me, that wantonizing were the baits of Love, and that my body loved not any, who had not confidence to be beloved; because coy hearts never take the minds of women.  
I replied therefore; Princess, it would be a greater impiety to conceal my affections from you, then strive to give you a recompense. That would be a crime of my will, this is a fault of destiny, the more excusable, because it is not in my power. A thousand praises, a thousand gracious signs testify your love, with confusion to myself, I acknowledge it, being in a condition unable to requite you. I have had no other desert in me for so many favours, but the Nobleness of your affection: To which though I am denied correspondency, I am so much the worthier of pardon, that seeing I have committed so manifest an error, it yet aught to be imputed to the violence of the Stars, and not to any defect in my will. The feeling that my soul receives in not being able to serve your commands, should in part free you from the passions of your heart. Release yourself from loving me, with the consideration that I am unworthy to be beloved by you, because I cannot return affection, Princess, I cannot, neither will I love you. My thoughts are fixed, my promise made, my heart engaged. A Princess of so much merit, to whom, even the affections of the Gods are due, ought not to procure the leave of that heart, that knows not which way, and cannot love her.  
Her ears had hardly received these last words, but with a generous disdain, throwing away my hands which were between hers, and rising up in a fury, she parted thence without answering me. I feared lest that mind, provoked by the stings of revenge, should contrive some plot against my life. All things are easy to the disdain of a Lady in Love. The authority of a Princess, provoked by affection and fury, finds no impossibility that can appoint it limits: But she freed me from suspicion, by seeing her not a jot altered by these successes; with the same gentleness as formerly, she continued with all freedom her favours to me. Yet, although I was delivered from my fears, I resolved to remove that object that might offend her memory by her eyes. I resolved to entreat aid of his Majesty for the reconquering of my Kingdom; the Infanta consenting to it, rather not to offend my deliberations, then for any hope she yet had of good success by it: One evening, when I had not been brought to her Chamber by the Duchess of Corana, being a-bed, and thinking of the conquests of a new Kingdom, until after midnight, I heard I knew not who, making a little noise with a low voice pronounce my name. I hastily roused up myself, laying hand on my sword, when I saw one that I knew not, who with a little Candle came to me, delivering me a note. Having received it, he suddenly departed, none of my servants perceiving him, or hearing of him. With a great alteration which I found in myself, I opened it, and knew the Character, for it was the hand of the Infanta: It said thus;  
Friend, we are discovered, I am a Prisoner, and you will be betrayed if you fly not. You shall find at the Golden Gate, the signet Royal, Arms, Money, and a guide; delay not, for the danger is great; Preserve your life, and follow your guide. I was of a sudden assaulted with variety of thoughts: It appeared to me an act of baseness, to confess myself by my flight guilty of a greater fault, than perhaps I was. To leave the Infanta a prey to the fury of the King, seemed unsupportable. But considering that delay could not be but dangerous, and that also the Reasons of my own Innocency, with less peril would be treated on, being fare from the Judge, and with more reputation: That my stay would be unprofitable to the Princess, who with tears would prosecute the mercy of a Father so affectionate; and that lastly, the hopes of the Kingdom of Morocco should not be shut up in a Prison, I made no stay, having put up some Jewels, and the Picture of the Infanta, without speaking a word to any of mine, I went to the Gate, I found there what was promised me. The Guide was a Knight richly apparelled, with two Squires who waited for me with Arms. I being armed, the Knight sen● away the Squires, and we travailed toward the Dukedom of Riano, making all haste, without speaking a word. We came into the midst of a thick wood: I cautious of the truth of the business, between anxieties of a thousand Passions, beseeched the Knight to make the tediousness of the way cheerful with Discourse, and with his Relations to withdraw my mind from apprehension of evil; that to fix one's Intellect upon Adversity, was more hurtful than Misfortunes themselves. He staying a while in suspense, after some interrupted sighs began thus to speak to me:  
Oleandro, our own common obstinacy hath brought us hither to lose Reputation, and life. Behold the Princess Arelida despised and scorned, brought into this Habit by a violent affection. When you revealed your thoughts to me, I knew of your favour with the Infanta: I dissembled a while, the better to break them off. Finally, imitating her hand, I have deceived you for deceiving me. I rejoice that I shall punish with Honour and with blood, your ingratitude, and my folly. The unquietness of your mind will give rest to my soul: I shall carry to my Tomb this satisfaction, that my Rival shall be deprived of your Embraces, you my Enemy defamed in Reputation, an Exile from your own content; and that I a Tyrant to my own Felicity, shall receive that reward which my Dissoluteness merited. Do not believe that I am covetous of the leaving of your love, I abhor the memory of it, as much as I have desired the obtaining of it: And to lose all remembrance of it, I care not to have my life. So saying, whilst I was studying Reasons to dissuade her, and a resolution how to carry myself, she mortally wounded herself with a Dagger between the joints of her Armour, I having no time to prevent her. I remained so confused at these Accidents, that I doubted I dreamt, or that my eyes deceived me. But recovering my sense, I forced myself to content her. I told her what an unworthiness it was to be so cruel against herself. I remembered her of her birth, and of the reproaches of infamy; and that to be murdered by her self was no other but an act of weakness, unbeseeming to have harbour in those breasts which by Heaven are selected to command. Having taken off her Arms, I would have bound up her wound, (although she with all her strength denied that that body should receive a Salve whose mind was incurable) when I found myself set on by a Troop of Arabians, such as murdered by the highway. I had scarce time to leap on horseback, when they fell upon me to have slain me. I defended myself with so good Fortune, that I killed the most of them; the rest giving themselves over to fear, thought their safety lay in their flight. I that was hot upon Revenge, and desperate in my miseries, suffered myself to be transported to the Mountains, where killing three of them, I lost my horse, being wounded by one of them in the Breast. Afterwards in vain I sought a path to find the Princess by; but the Trees were very thick, the Rocks inaccessible, the Descent difficult, and the way (through my haste) not observed. Whereupon, having compassed and recompassed much ground to no purpose, until the dawning of the day, being overcome by passion and weariness, I laid me down to rest me. I fell into an interrupted sleep, acompanyed with illusions so horrible, that they extremely disturbed my Repose. Me thoughts I saw the Infanta (being slain by her Father) to reprove me of weakness that I should leave her to be so vilely murdered, without affording her any help. Sometimes me thoughts the Princess Ghost with so lively fears laid her hand on my heart, that in the vanity of a Dream, I felt myself to die in earnest.  
Awaking a little after Sunrising, hopeless of finding the Princess again, I took that path which I thought led to the Sea shore. My imagination deceived me not: There was a Galley of Pirates brought thither by necessity, to take in provision of water: They willingly received me, I offering myself a Companion in their Labours, and to be ready upon all occasions. They had Experience of me in the taking a Galley. They cruelly wounded, and retired to be dressed, I alone sustained the violence of weapons, and behaved myself so, that in a manner they all perished, save some Ladies, with the greatest part of the Riches they brought with them. It was of little defence, and came rather to boast the Pomp of it then to fight. After having given necessary Orders for the Cure of the wounded, I comforted those Ladies, who with storms of tears deplored their misfortunes. They all fell at my feet: The chief of them distinguished, and known by the reverence that the others showed her, not having in the loss of her liberty, nor in the fear of Death, lost a whit of that beauty which made her singular from the rest; with a respectful but generous earnestness she entreated me to spare her honour and life. I giving her my word promised her also her Liberty, when it was not in my power to preserve it: I felt myself then in a manner so struck to the heart, that my words stuck in my mouth: I perceived within me an alteration, proceeding from an unknown cause, that I was astonished at myself. Those Tears froze up my spirit: Those Words moved my soul: Those Sobs tormented my senses, so that becoming without motion, by a strange stupidity, I found myself alienated from myself. At length adding force to my weakness, I asked her her birth, her name, and the cause of their voyage. My name, she replied, is Arnalta; my Country the world: Being but two years of Age I was stole from my Parents, I was presented to the King of Fracia, who having no issue, adopted me for his Daughter, living in a great desire to know my Origen, I Embarked with the King's consent for the Fortunate Islands, where Fame reported, an Oracle gave Answer unto all Questions.  
While with these words, (delivered with so much sweetness that she ravished my heart through my ears) she satisfied my request, I observed a Medal of Gold that hung about her neck, that had an Hydra slain by a Hercules, the Impress of our House engraven upon it. I broke off her Discourse, beseeching her how she came by it. She answered, that with it she was stolen, and given to the King. I that from my Father had understood the secret of this Medal; that it was a stone that stopped bleeding, that preserved and freed from poison, though never so mortal, when I read inserted in it my Mother's name, I was even ready to run mad for joy. I took her by the hand (observing not to be seen) and briefly related to her all my miseries, and discovered myself to be her Brother: I desired her to dissemble what had passed, and to comfort herself in her Misfortunes, which had given her notice of her Birth. Then I went to visit the wounded Pirates, to whom giving all the rich prize, I only requested, and obtained Arnalta for my share of it.  
We sailed some days through those Seas without any Adventure of Moment. One evening as I was going to bed, a soldier came in to advertise me, that the Pirates were at Consultation about my death. I drew near to a chink of their Chamber, and heard one of them, who was named Magorre, say to Ferrardo his brother; that to kill me armed would be a violent Remedy. The greatest part of the soldiers were afraid of my valour, that all the slaves were obliged to my kindness: And that those Medicines which heal without offending are the most to be desired. Poison might easily, and with their security deprive me of life. The more successful their intention would prove, because I did not so much as suspect any shadow of treason. I presently communicated this unto some Soldiers, of whom I had received extraordinary signs of affection. These readily interesting themselves in my dangers, set some slaves at liberty: Having armed them with a promise also of Freedom, they placed them in divers parts of the Galley, to be more ready upon all occasions. I resolute with my sword drawn my in hand, violently rushed into the Room where they were plotting my destruction. Magorre in a rage risen to strike me, when I, ere he was well up, with two wounds deprived him both of defence and life. Ferrardo in this while launched out, and crying he was betrayed, and upbraiding the soldiers of Cowardice, that without defending him would suffer him to perish, he fortified himself with a good part of the Soldiers in the Castle of Prora, which either for necessity or love undertook his defence. With their Bows they shot at those that durst approach any whit near, and the death of four rendered the rest more fearful and cautious of their Lives. There was not any means which I did not assay. I went notwithstanding with a kind of reservation, not willing to make use of fire, lest it might offend Arnalta, and the Damsels that stood in a Tent under the Castle.  
They were a Fortification to themselves; and not knowing the cause of the Tumult, and being certain of nothing but fear, with their lamentations and schreekes they implored my aid; not knowing what to resolve, grief almost made me mad. Scarce there was a thought entered into my mind, but refuting it I suddenly fell into new designs, which not perfected I also rejected.  
It was about daybreak when the schreeks of Arnalta distinctly came to my ears, who invoked all the Deities of Heaven. A little while afterwards I plainly found she was thrown into the water; Although anger and sorrow took away my senses, I endeavoured nevertheless, with the power of prayers, and promise of rich gifts, to procure her life. Three without delay leapt into the sea; many got into the Cockboat; others cast in Beams of wood, and Tables. All was in vain; the skies were cloudy, the waves big, so that with difficulty we recovered them that had gone out. If a desire of revenge had not something counterpoised my fury I had fling myself into the sea. But finally I resolved to try my last endeavour: I made an Engine of boards stuffed with some packs of wool, to secure us from their flings and Crossbows; And so some of mine that hoped for their liberty, and that found an opportunity to pull down some of their Rampires, made an approach, and shot at the Pirates, who soon finding themselves in an ill condition, aimed at nothing but to defend themselves. Ferrardo, while he was railing at, and upbraiding my men, was shot with an Arrow, which wounding him in the mouth, took from him I know not first whether his tongue or life. His men now grown heartless, threw down their Arms, craving mercy, which had not been given them if the return of those Ladies had not pacified my wrath. For seeing Arnalta, whom I imagined drowned, I ran to embrace her afresh, as if I had only known her now. I understood that Ferrardo, having forced the Tent, and requiring Arnalta by name (who for fear, and at the horrible sight of that Pirate) was fall'n in a swoone upon a Bed, one of her Damsels answered him. He being deceived by a voice he knew not, thinking to throw Arnalta into the sea, fling in another, who either for fear or affection assumed her name.  
I made them cast the dead into the water, and then thought of repairing my Galley, which being brought into an ill plight made me resolve to put in at the next Port. Coming thither, and dividing our booty among my Companions, counterfeiting my name and birth, with that beard which you saw me in first, I procured from the King Vassileo a retiring Place, and security, and obtained my desire. He being about to sell this Palace, (fall'n to him by Confiscation, belonging formerly to the Duke of Mesimoran, either through envy or desert proclaimed Traitor, and who upon an infamous Theatre had terminated the Glories of his Life and Fame) I at any price got myself into the possession of it.  
Then Celardo with a great curiosity desired to know some more particulars of the Life of that Duke.  
Oleandro replied: That the Actions of a Prince so great could not be penetrated into but with a thousand uncertainties, agreeing to the opinion of him that should deliver them. That some discourse (though we be not concerned in it) is dangerous. That great men would have the remembrance of those things buried that might render them over, either to the pity or scorn of others. That they suffer not themselves to be talked of, either not to be liable to the censure of common discoursers, or that a reverence is due to him whose power is unlimited. To talk of Princes is not without danger: because ordinarily truth is hateful in great men's ears. I that live remote from State Affairs can but guests at uncertainties, which have no other foundation but the opinion of the Vulgar, who oft argue of that they understand the least. That judgement cannot be right given but by the effects. The wisdom and the justice of so great a King pretends to no other end but the safety of his own Life, the defence of his State, and the preservation of his Honour. Curiosity the more increased upon Celardo, by reason he heard these things so fare from his knowledge; but being satisfied by Oleandro's promise, that at his better leisure he should participate of all he knew in it; he harkened to the end of the former Relation. He therefore proceeded.  
Here I lived enjoying the deliciousness of the situation, the fertility of the fields, the wholsomness of the Air, and accounted at a great shelter to my misfortunes after so many years of miseries once again to enjoy myself in despite of Destiny. The ambitions for my Kingdom, spent in the course of so many infelicities, had lost their appetite in tormenting me. Accommodating my mind to my present Fortune, far from me I cast all those imaginations that might molest me. A Kingdom, although so desired by all, renders Princes as unhappy, as servitude is often unsupportable to Subjects. The fruition of Liberty depends not in ruling over others, but in commanding ourselves. The regulating our own affections is that which can only make a man happy. My Sister Arnalta had been able to have altered my deliberations, if, weary with the afflictions of the world, she had not accommodated her heart to my resolutions. I now thought myself truly hid from the eyes of Fate, far from the negotiations of Court, and from those ambitions that are accustomed to provoke furies. Deceiving myself with this shadow of Felicity, I was certified that some had laid snares to entrap my life. If the duty I owed to my birth, and the generousness of my heart had been capable of Cowardice, I swear to you Celardo by the Obligements I own you, I had by my own death sacrificed myself to their hatred who desired it. I cannot imagine to my understanding a greater misfortune than to live in a continual fear of enemies and not know them.  
One day I discovere their Plots, and knew the Traitors; They were sent by the usurpers of my Kingdom, with promises of great reward if they could make me away. They did not think their Reign sure while I lived; and feared me, although they understood that I had not an intention to offend them. I remained astonished that these impious men had not satiated their barbarous Natures in the usurpation of my Kingdom, but that they also desired with my blood to secure their tyranny. Being grown therefore jealous of myself, I was always afraid of being betrayed, whereupon I could not enjoy that quiet my heart desired. To mock sometimes, either my own fear, or their treasons, I make use of that counterfeit hair, which conceals me even from those that daily see me. I do not this because I fear to die, but that my enemies should not triumph in my death. I hold him unworthy to live who knows not how to value and defend his life. He had not here made an end of his Discourse, but that he was advertized the Count of Salinera had Commission to speak with him by his Majesty's appointment; with some alteration he arose from his seat, and said to Celardo, That this was another wheel of Fortune, and that his heart foretold him some evil. That he was not used to receive such visits, the rather because the Count was one of the chief of his Majesty's Privy Council. Having therefore took his leave, he went to meet him, leaving Celardo troubled with his ordinary Passions.  
The sleep of the Princess was short, because her mind, oppressed and disquieted by so many miseries, would not allow her body to make any truce with repose. As she opened her eyes she spied an extreme handsome Lady, that stood in an amaze, either at her habit, her beauty, or her unexpected arrival there, and that could not be satisfied with thinking of her. The Princess, supposing her to be some Goddess, would have cast herself at her feet, beseeching her pardon for entering into that Temple. She said, there was no Law that prescribed rules to fear, and that necessity excuses any boldness. The Courtesies of that Lady, which strove in her Rock to equalise her beauty, consented not that she should touch the ground with her knee, neither to proceed in Apologies, but said, I was, fair Lady, about preventing your Adoration with mine, because I could not imagine such beauties were in Goddesses, neither to any but the Gods the entrance of this Cave known. I am a woman, and so much the more ascertained of it, because I am daily subjected to those passions which have no jurisdiction but in humane breasts. The comeliness of your face, the strangeness of your habit, and to see you in a place where the light comes not but by stealth, make me more curious than I ought. I beseech you therefore inform me what Fortune hath made me worthy of so great a Guest, and what terms I am to use (your merit being known) to serve you. I (replied the Princess) implore from your gentleness nothing but some mean shelter to my miseries. The which at present to relate to you would but increase your trouble, because they cannot be represented but with horror, being so tragical. And although your benignity should vouchsafe me attention, weariness and hunger so much oppress me, that I cannot think myself fit to discourse. The Lady suffered her not to go on, but retiring aside gave some orders, and returned speedily to the Princess; from whom (not longer able to contain those passions that tormented her heart) she desired to know of whom she had learned the Entrance into the Grott. She scarce understood she had light upon it by chance, and had after shut it up again very fast with the bolt, but as a presage of some ill towards her, losing her colour, at the same instant, both her voice and spirits failed her. At last enforcing herself, and willing to suppress that grief which oppressed her mind, she said to the Princess, That our first motions are within us without our understanding; that not a little to yield to the violences of Passion, is the effect either of stupidity, or folly. And that our humane nature is too frail.  
On the other side, the Princess, ignorant altogether of the cause of that alteration, run over all her thoughts, and could not imagine what to resolve, when by an earnest courtesy she was led into one of those Chambers which make a Crown to the Court. It was adorned with most rich Furniture, beseeming their Greatness that frequented the place. There was Gold so seen as not wasted profusely, but contemned. The Roof was all checkered with the costliest jewels, which to the life represented the stories of fabulous Antiquity. The Pavement was also of the same work, composed of some stones, that like Looking-Glasses reflected the Image of whosoever looked on it. The Princess was full of wonder at two things: That this habitation being under ground was so lightsome, and that moisture and time had not decayed those Pictures, nor perished those Arches, which seemed all as fresh as if the Artificer had newly finished them.  
Here being invited both by Necessity and Entreaties, she was constrained to strengthen herself with most delicate meats, and most precious Wines, that in a Moment were prepared by a venerable Matron: She afterwards laid her down on a very costly bed, which for beauty and price yielded nothing to the other Wonders, that there were seen to be infinite. In bidding farewell to that woman, she said to the Princess, To morrow will be a fit time to trouble you, I being very desirous to know your condition, and to meet with any occasion to serve you. Some talk will be necessary to deliberate about your satisfaction. Here you cannot stay long but with an incommodity to yourself, and danger to me: I this night will lie with you in stead of the Duchess of Belprato, if you will promise I may do it without any peril to myself, or making him jealous who is my servant. The Princess answered her with as much Courtesy, adding: That not for any thing in the world she would occasion her trouble, much less her danger, and that as a Law she will always receive her Commands. Having leave in this manner, and being alone with the Duchess, after some compliments of Excuse and affection, she entreated her, that until their eyes called them to repose, (to withdraw her mind from her miserable apprehensions, that were ready not only to deprive her of sleep, but take away her life) to declare to her, whither Fortune had guided her, and who she was that knew to oblige her before she knew her, with all other particulars that might satisfy her Curiosity. The Duchess was now laid down in another bed, near that of the Princess, where after a little suspense, she thus answered:  
If I had not seen you Lady in this Cave, where the Sun communicating his light, yet dares not shine upon you, and if I did not know the heart of the Princess my Mistress, that stealing her affections, she durst commit her safety into your hands, your Curiosity and Entreaties, which I should reverence in other matters as Commands, should not prevail with me to speak a word: Who cannot tell how to hold their peace, is unfit to serve Princes. The principal duty of Faith, is to conceal those Actions which Kings breathing forth, scarce trust themselves with: I, though a Woman, have evermore observed this Axiom, the Duty I own others, and the regard I have to my own safety inciting me. Great secrets are not revealed but with great danger; and ordinarily, who ever betrays is betrayed: You may please to take notice, that this Island is the amorous Kingdom of Cyprus. Fame gives out, that this Cave was made by the command of Venus to conceal her Amours in; or by the first Kings, here to secure themselves from Treacheries: It hath seven Mouths, that all reach to the Sea; so fare distant one from another as a man can see. I suppose that under a pretence of Religion, Tillage is prohibited in this part of the Isle, to take away occasion from the Inhabitants of discovering these retiring places, or observing of any that should come into them. All the Continent is sacred, and to kill a wild beast, or cut down a Tree, a Capital offence. After a long Circuit, the Entrance growing narrow, determines in a place called the secret Palace: The common people believe that it took name from a Fountain, which one drinking of, it represents in a dream to their imaginations things to come; or, as I persuade myself, by these private withdrawing places under ground, known only to his Majesty and his Daughter, who for the most part here keeps his Court, by reason it is the most strong and delicious part of this Island. In the remotest Chamber his Highness' Treasure is kept, but in a place the least observed, the Entrance being stopped with some boards, in such wise doth close, that they deceive both the eye and feeling. The easiness of removing them can be only discovered by those who see them taken away. But I will not with tedious Circumstances rob you of the Hours of your Repose:  
I will abbreviate my Discourse, and only declare those things which are most worthy of your curiosity. I beseech you added the Princess (I being newly arrived in these parts, and knowing a full Relation will come the welcomest to me, and my desires, my sorrows not permitting me overmuch sleep) do not so.   

The History of Dianea, Diaspe, etc.  
THe Duchess went on. The handsomest here are chosen Kings, and they have power to continue the Kingdom in their Line, whether Males or Females. Of the which if there be a fail, the chief of the Island meet about a new Election, which always lights on him whom Venus is prodigal of her favours to. In King Vassileo, who now reigns, in whom the virtue of his mind contends with the comeliness of his person, all our hopes are accomplished. The Acclamations and the Joys of the people were not any whit defrauded by the proofs of his merit, and the goodness of his Government, being of a complying disposition to all, but inexorable to wicked men, with a Majestic Pleasantness, he hath gained himself the good will of his enemies, and not only the hearts of his Subjects. He was feared by his neighbour Princes, beloved by the Remote, and in brief adored by all. The Devotions of the people were unanimous in supplications to the mercy of the Gods, to eternize a stock so every way worthy.  
By two wives he had no issue but one daughter, the Princess Dianea my Mistress, so called after her mother's name, who died in Childbed of her. The more she increased in years, the handsomer she grew. This Sun, although but rising, ravished the desires of all eyes, and awaked in the most frozen minds, and in the cruelest bosoms a tender affection: An eye cannot behold her without parting with an heart. I should say more, if so noble conditions could be exposed, and if you when you had seen her should not believe her one of the most beautiful Ladies of the world. A thousand have aimed at her affection, and infinite is the number of them who have fall'n in love with her. This Paradise of perfection hath been desired and beseeched for of all worthy men. What cannot a beauty more than great, accompanied with a vast Kingdom, for her Dowry do? They that knew not how to love any thing but themselves, and their proper Interests, expressed themselves most ambitious of her. Those insensible ones, that could not be conquered by her Beauty, were enthralled by the power of their own Ambition. The wisdom of his Majesty, which would get him a Son-in-law, and not an enemy, neither entertained, nor refused their offers. He inclined not to Kings, because he would not dismember Cyprus: And with his Subjects he disdained, as a diminution of the Royal greatness: His neighbour Princes were not to his satisfaction; because being blemished with a thousand vices, he would not at the same time endanger his Kingdom, his Daughter, and himself. And of Remote matches he abhorred the thought, as they that would carry the Princess with them, which would be a separating of his Soul from his Body.  
Finally, his Majesty's mind fixed on the Duke of Araone, the youngest Son of the King of Armenia, a Knight, (but for the deformity of his face) the most worthy of his times. His abode was then in the Court, and with the proofs of his valour he had to won upon the King's affections, that him he chose to alley so near to him as to make him his Son. There was no doubt that he should dismember the Crown, or remove the Princess into a Remote Country, being the last of a numerous Issue, and having the disposing of nothing in his hands but his Horse and Arms. The King acquainted the Princess with his Resolution, who was ready to die of sorrow when she heard it. The reverence sheowed her Father, and the modesty of her Sex, were not sufficient to  her with so much wisdom as to conceal the passions of her mind. To oppose herself to the desires of her Father, was not the custom of her will or heart: And how should she contradict him, who commanded as a Father, and would be obeyed as a King! But recovering herself, she beseeched his Majesty to give her some time, that she might be able to dispose of herself according to his Commands: She said, that great Resolutions should not be prosecuted without premeditation; that seeing she was to oblige herself to so unequal a matrimony, it was but reason that she first should persuade her mind to it: That marriages compelled, either by the Authority of those that treat of them, or by their power that make them, are for the most part unhappy. She added other Reasons; whereupon her Father allowed her six month's time, not only for her deliberation, but the consummation of the Nuptials. How then the Princess remained confused, they may imagine, whose Destiny it was ever to be constrained to love.  
The Prince of Crect, under a feigned name, at this time was entertained at the Court; in whom it appeared that Nature and Fortune had Epitomised all the wonders of the World. In Arms he was invincible, singular for handsomeness, and in virtue without equals. It seemed that Jove, Mars, and Love in that face had finished their Greatnesses. Whoever once beheld him, could never after forget him, he fixing indelibly such rarities in his mind that observed him. He was Honoured and beloved by the King, and his principal Lords, who in him alone admired at those perfections, which are to be wished for in all others. The Princess in particular Conquered by so many wonders, affecting him above any other, preferred him above herself. She had not run precipitally in these Resolutions: for twice Diaspe (for so he gave out his name) had saved her life: Once in the Lake Chiti, whither she was carried by the unruliness of her Horses: Another time at a coursing with Gray-hounds; for a Tiger rushing out of some Wood, that terrified and overthrew all the rest a (with an admirable undauntedness) was slain by him. To these Obligations the Affection he professed he bore her was adjoined. For one day (after he had a thousand times discovered his heart to me) he had the fortune to meet the Princess alone in a Garden, where he had opportunity to tell her his Passions, to reveal his Bosom, and discover his Birth. He found her so disposed, that the greatest difficulty was to invent a means whereby to obtain the Ends of their Amours.  
He would have stolen her away, but the Princess consented not to it, doubting she might offend her Father, the Kingdom, and herself. Such Examples were for her Restraint, the free opinion of the world having condemned them: and those marriages to be unhappy which begin with the dishonour of the people, and the grief of ones Parents. To obtain her by request for his wife, was impossible, because of the inveterate hatred between the two Crowns. A Father so  with tenderness, ought not to deliver his only one daughter into the hands of one of his greatest Enemies. To subject the Crown to a Prince, who should not make his abode in Cyprus, was to reduce that Kingdom into a Province, an insupportable thing to this People. Notwithstanding to continue themselves entangled in these fears, became a great molestation to them both: because with Lovers those things cannot be long endured, that retard the Achievement of their desires. Diaspe grew almost wild at the King's Resolutions. He would destroy Armenia, and kill this new Pretender. Sometimes he reproved the Princess of her little love, because she had submitted herself to a simple command of her Fathers. That there was nothing more unconquerable than love, who knows not to deny, knows not how to affect. A Father ought to be obeyed in all things, saving those that directly were opposite to ones own heart.  
Sometimes he accused himself of negligence, that with a powerful Army should have prevented the designs and hopes of all. Prince's would not be regulated but by a present fear. And in their Consultations any Resolution would be overcome that was besieged by a multitude of Soldiers. Sometimes he complained of the King, that with an obstinate Command would make desperate his Daughter's affections, so much the more because. she was his only one, and heir of such a Kingdom. They proceed with little discretion that by their odd humours enforce maids to desperation; Princesses (saith he) ought then in their Marriages to prefer their Fathers before their own satisfaction! That which is not denied to the basest woman of the world shall not be permitted them who are borne to rule! If your Father to please himself cares not to displease you, why will you encounter death rather than contradict the Commands of your Father? Is there perchance an Equality between Greece and Armenia! Between the power of a King and that of a private person: who takes you, not so much to enjoy you as a wife, but because he sees you a Queen. The Princess answered not but with tears, and reposed all her defences, and all her reasons in lamentations. Finally they concluded, that in great Evils violent Remedies are the safest; That too much zeal, and too much modesty were as prejudicial as an excess of fear, or a rash resolution. That he therefore should send into Crete to his Father to raise speedily a very strong Army, that he might be enabled to defend his pretensions by the Sword. That supposing the will of heaven was interposed to these Negotiations, that the Princess should escape through this Cave to the sea side, where before her flight was discovered they might be fare cuough from the jurisdiction of Cyprus. Diaspe the better to have prosecuted this business would have returned thither in person, but the Princess would not suffer him, foreseeing as it were in herself some mischief. I being present, the Faith of Matrimony they plighted between them, invoking all the Imprecations of the Gods upon the Failers, vowing to meet death a thousand times before they would bestow their affections upon others. Many days before then the Promise of Marriage had passed between them, but now only authenticated by my being by, and solemnised by the testimony of the Gods.  
In the mean while all the City was a preparing to entertain the new Prince, who was gone into Armenia to his Father, to desire Ambassadors and Attendants that should assist with state at his Nuptials. Arches were erected, Colossuses raised, representing the Glories of Cyprus and Armenia. All were a preparing Arms and Horses to flatter the Genius of the Princes, and not to show themselves inferior to others. The Count of Cittera, a young man of a very great valour, and an extraordinary expectation, was Admiral of the Sea. He had in him an infinite number of faults, but he so well knew how to disguise them, that if they were not acknowledged for virtues, they were not believed as vices. The King had raised him to this degree of honour for his Father's deserts, who was the chief of his Council of State. He managed it well enough, because, aspiring to high things, he would not show himself unworthy. Perceiving the favour of the People, the affection of the Soldiers, and the Kingdom without a succession of Males, he imagined by marrying with the Princess to advance himself to the Royal Throne, he durst not open his mouth of it to his Father; for knowing him of an incontaminated goodness, he would not have prevented him with chastisement, at least have hindered him in his ways. He assayed the mind of the Princess with signs of an affection not ordinary; but perceiving himself despised, he turned his thoughts upon new designs. He endeavoured to procure to himself the good wills of the Great Ones with feasts and banquets; He obliged the Militia with liberty and gifts. The Vulgar were captivated with a plenty of all things that he provided them, and with nourishing them in their vices. In brief, he did not neglect any of those Arts which might facilitate his tyranny. The Nuptials of the Princess with the Armenian interposed the course of his pretensions, whereupon he applied his mind to a wickedness more execrable. In conclusion, when a perfidious mind is disposed to mischief, all the stops in the world are not available sufficiently to stay it.  
The Count had been twice in Thracia, the first time with his Father about State Affaires. The other time alone, to congratulate the come of the new King to the Crown of his Ancestors. Amuritte (for so the King was called) had many times been in Cyprus when his Father's Palace was infested by the malice of his Domestics. He appeared to the Count as an excellent instrument to perfectionate his hopes. He advertized the Thracian, by a Messenger dispached on purpose, That the Kingdom of Cyprus at the least beck of his Majesty was ready to fall into his hands; That the People were ill contented with King Vassileo's Government, the Commonalty grown Cowards, the Forts without defence, the Soldiers under him, the Arms in his Command, the Seas and Ports in his Custody. That he was not provoked to this by any other end, but that he would not obey a King who was a stranger, deformed in mind and in body. That seeing the Kingdom must be altered, he did rather choose to make gift of it to his Majesty, a Prince of whose greatness he had made experiment, as also of his virtues, then to give obedience to a Man who came to the Throne before he had learned the Rules to govern by. That if his Majesty was pleased with the offer, and this resolution of his heart, he would request nothing for his service but the Princess to wife, with the Kingdom in dowry; and that he and his Successors would hold it of the Thracians, and pay them homage with a very great tribute. He added, that to raise a great Army, would, without any benefit to himself, beget suspicion in his confining Princes. That in the suddenness of this consisted the accomplishment of the enterprise, he now needing but to steal it, and not to fight for it. That only two Galleys would be more than enough, they being certain to find no resistance. That he might disguise the cause of his Arrival, with a pretence either of friendship, or of chance. He omitted not other particulars, and other instructions, which might render him the more easy to consent to him. Ill men never want means to give effect to their wickedness.  
One Morning with two Galleys, becoming the merit of his Greatness, the King of the Thracians appeared in the Port of Arsinoe. The King Vassileo, with some amazement received news of the Arrival of this Prince, although the design never fell within his thoughts. Order was given to the Admiral (as one best known to the Thracian) to receive him. Their meetings (though on a sudden) was most magnificent, the Horse innumerable, and the Train infinite. The King came to Land with but fifty of the most Noble, and the most courageous youths of Thace; with a great deal of affection he welcomed those that came to him by the appointment of his Majesty, to whom he returned thanks for the honours he received of them. His Entertainment was at the Charges of the Republic. But after three days he would not permit it, saying, he had given way to that as a sign of his liberty, which was prepared for his Honour. The day after he was waited on to the King Vassileo, who received him at the foot of the Stairs. There he used such words, and expressed such things as would have beguiled Providence itself. Among other things he said, He was come to adore that Sun, that not scorning his misfortunes (by a benign influence of it) had blessed him with prosperity; That he rejoiced at the Matrimony of the Princess with the Prince of Armenia; adding, that he could not contain himself for joy in seeing the Age of so worthy a King extended (by it) to eternity; but (said he) it was never subject to years, he (for his wisdom) being never young. That he was above Fortune, who in despite of it knew to choose himself so deserving a Son. That the principal cause of his coming was to serve his Majesty in those Feasts, which Fame (and not without good reason) had spread through the greatest part of the world. And that he came not as a King, but as an Adventurer; the merits of the two Princes being such as would compel any body to any disguise to do them service. He omitted not other particulars, expressed with so much Affection, that Adulation, and Dissembling won him Affection, and an high welcome. After some return of thanks, King Vassileo answered him, That he the rather desired to be eternised in those Nuptials of his Daughter, because they would report to his Posterity the Obligations which he owed to the Love of so great a King. That he received the honour of this visit, as an Act proper to the King of the Thracians: For he knew nothing in himself worthy to deserve such Graces but the ardent affection he bore him.  
These Compliments being past, they went both of them to the Princess. And it was observed, that the Thracian stood in amaze at her beauty, not believed such by him before, having seen her only when she was a Child. There after some expressions how welcome he was, he told her his coming was to wait on her at her Wedding, and then jested with her at the stay of the Armenian, offering himself to be her Knight until his return. The Princess replied to all with so much expression of kindness and gentleness, that her words (conquering his resistance) betrayed his heart. Finally, after they were parted, the Thracian remained no less satisfied at the King's entertainment, than he was astonished at the Beauties of his Daughter. From day to day they continued to oblige themselves with so high expressions, that their Subjects flatterers of their Prince's disposition feasted them perpetually now in the City now upon the Galleys, nor neglected any thing that might be a sign of their friendship and good will.  
The Admiral in the mean while prosecuted his plot with such circumspection, that there was not any body that suspected him. One day (while the Thracian understanding the Armcuian Prince's arrival with four Galleys was near;) fearing some stop should fall between him and his hopes, he gave the last assay unto his wickedness. He invited King Vassileo, the Princess, and some of the Court to a Fishing, which he appointed to be made according to the Custom of his Country. He had been other times on the Sea with his Majesty, whereupon there was not any that doubted of his Faith; And the rather, because he had disposed for this business but one only Galley, leaving his other in the Port, and having with a specious Appearance divided his men into small Barks, brought from our Arsenal. His Majesty accepted of the invitation, and one morning betimes went aboard the Galley, accompanied with some few of his Council, and the Princess Dianea, that came against her will (her feigning herself indisposed prevailing not) with six Damsels, and he who never abandoned her. There would also have come many Knights belonging to the Court, but the Thracian dissembling, and saying all places were filled, would not suffer any to enter but a few, and they all either Friends, or of the Count's Conspiracy.  
We were gone ten miles into the Sea, when he began the Fishing. It was truly a Pastime of much wonder, and worthy to be observed. Some Barks went from us about a mile, the which after a long Compass, returned with such whooping, that it seemed they would deafen the Seas. They made that all the Fish was drawn together to the Poop of the Galley, where it was often taken by Nets ordered for that purpose. Without doubt the sight was singular, the Fishes being infinite for number, and of an extraordinary bigness. There were some seen, that to escape the Nets, leaped up so high, as if they had wings. Other by crooked wind endeavoured to have loosed themselves out of the Nets: Many bold of their own greatness tried to break the snares that imprisoned them: many leapt into the Barks, and finally all, either fearing to be took, or death, scudding about after a thousand manner of ways, very much pleased the eyes of the Beholders. Dianea only, and I, could take no pleasure in these pastimes, either for grief of these Nuptials, or that our hearts presaged to us the ill that was at hand. The Thracian bestowed a most sumptuous Banquet on us, because returning to Dinner should not break off the Fishing.  
Two hours before night, the other Galley came in sight, rowing softly upon the Sea. It was scarce perceived, where the Thracian sending away the Barks, departed from us, as if he would give order it should return. In the mean while many armed Knights enter upon the upper Deck of ours, and before any body could lay hand to his sword, we were all made Prisoners. King Vassileo finding they were betrayed, more grieved at his Daughter's Captivity then his own Misfortune, was ready to die for sorrow: Covering notwithstanding his grief with that wisdom which rendered him singular among Princes, he neither spoke, nor did things unbecoming his greatness. He told those Knights, that it displeased him that the Glories of Thracia should be contaminated with Robberies and Treasons; and that a Prison could not bring him so much trouble as to see in so great a King a mind so vile, and baseness so execrable. He comforted the Princess, who was oppressed with so violent a passion, that she seemed stupifyed with sorrow. I and the other Ladies filled heaven without cries, and with so many Imprecations against the Thracians, that I wonder how they had the patience to despise them. By this time Amuritto came to visit us, and showing that he took great displeasure at our sadness, he said to his Majesty:  
King Vassileo, it pierces my soul to have done any thing that might occasion your Sorrow: I had not condescended to this for any thing, but for the Affection I bear to the Reputation of your person, and to the good of your Kingdom. This that hath an appearance of ill, shall not determine but in well, if your Majesty will have a regard to the End and not the Beginning. Do not believe that the Thracians would rob from their Victories, nor that Amuritte intends to blemish his glories with Treason, which in a little while I hope to see you undeceived; and though yet the Remedy hath appeared sharp to you, for all that, many times it is necessary to make use of fire, and from mortal Instruments to recover our health. I beseech your Majesty to suspend your Answer and Complaints until after Supper; And so taking him by the hand, he enforced him with a courteous violence to come to the Tables, which were now made ready. He did the same to the Princess, comforting her with words full of courtesy and affection. We Ladies followed them, with all those that belonged to the King; Being soon come upon the Deck, we saw our Admiral, the Count of Cythera. Not knowing his Treason we remained full of admiration, especially the King, who knew he had left him in the Arsenell, with Commission to have a Galley in readiness, more for State Policy than suspicion of any Treason.  
The Purification, according to the Custom of the Thracians, being a preparing, places were appointed for all: With a most soft Scarf they hoodwinked the eyes of all; and after covered the heads of all that were invited with very fine cloth of gold, while one of their Priests muttered some prayers, there was brought every body a a Basin to purify their hands in. This being past, the Feast began. Their eyes were all scarce unbound, when they saw the Count of Cythera strangled, and laid at length on the floor. The Father of the Count who sat near his Majesty, could not bridle in the violences of Love and Anger, which tormented his heart: Whilst the rest astonished knew not what to do, but gaze on one another, he (arising from his seat, not being able to refrain from tears, which whether he would or not, agreed with his tongue to ease his grief) said to Amuritte:  
Truly so execrable Suppers where blood is mixed, Wine can belong to none but the Thracians. If cruel man thou didst only desire my son's Death, why dost thou kill the Father with so mortal an Object, who hath no other fault in thy hatred, but thy own Fury? I implore the benignity of the Gods, that they let not pass unpunished, Hospitality violated, Virgins stolen, so cursed an Ingratitude, and so unjust Murders. The excesses of his Passion had not stopped here, if the violence of his grief had not buried his words in his mouth. Good old man, replied Amuritte, for the respect I bear to the Majesty of King Vassileo, and to the Affection of a Father, I pardon the Errors of your tongue. If your Senses tyrannised not over your Reason, I would make you learn what it is to offend the Justice of Kings. So having said, he produced the Count's Letters, (and the Messenger he had sent him coming in, whom in Cyprus he had entertained) he made the Treason appear plainly to them all. Afterwards turning to King Vassileo, he added: For two things I may be blamed; The first, that I have made the punishment precede the Discovery of the fault; The other, that I took on me to do that Justice that properly belonged to you: yet I have done them both with a great Foundation of Reason. First, to terrify Traitors from attempting upon the person of their own Princes; and secondly, to free you from the hatred of the dead man's kindred, more especially his Father, who being innocent, with much difficulty believed his Son guilty. But old friend be satisfied, that I could not offer up to the gods a greater Sacrifice than the punishment of this wicked man, who for his Ambition of Rule, hath in his Treason to others betrayed himself. The other Accessaries, which are of some number, I remit them to your Justice. Give me leave only to put your in mind, that forgiveness is a noble property of Kings: And that the taking away the heads of a Conspiracy ought to be attributed to the gods as a great Favour, and accounted to a Kingdom as a great Felicity. For what remains, when the wind will permit, I will conduct your Majesty into Arsinoe, where I will pretend to no other reward then the love and thanks of so great a King.  
Here he stayed, fixing his eyes upon his Majesty, who after a little Recollection said thus: King Amuritte, Those things which Fortune to day hath presented unto me, have in a manner so amazed me, that I know not whether I live or dream. The zeal of your affection, (with which preventing my Interests, hath made you condescend to so great Deliberations) shall be always reverenced by me, according to the multitude of my obligations. I will acknowledge from the candour of your friendship, the generousness of your Spirit, the worthiness of your Mind, and the nobleness of your Birth; The Conservation of my Kingdom, the Honour of my Daughter, and preservation of myself. His Majesty had not stopped here, if the Father of the Admiral had not interrupted him with saying: Pardon me (O King) that if for the grief I feel I cannot contain myself within the Duties I own to the Eminencies of your Merit, and the humbleness of my condition. The Faults of the Count of Cythera, (whom I will not call Son, to increase my sorrow) if they are such as they are reported, deserve your anger even to all his kindred. If the gods had permitted, that they had been the slanders of his Enemies, to precipitate him from the favours of your Majesty, I should have become a Supplicant to you for Justice, although I should not have obtained it. It will be an Adjunct to your glories, (Magnanimous King) to exercise your piety upon the Ashes of the dead, and that your humanity be moved with Carcases in their Sepulchers. In these Doubts of my Son's loyalty, and my Prince's favour I cannot live. I will not allow Fortune so much power over me: If ever (Sir) the candidness of my thoughts, the goodness of my actions, the ingenuity of my fashion, and the freedom of my Consults have aimed at any thing then the Reputation of your Majesty, the Preservation of your Posterity, the honour of your Crown, and the welfare of your Kingdom, I invoke all the Gods, that the storms of their indignation may fall upon my head, and that they never grant Repose to my soul in the Elysian happy fields.  
These last words were scarce understood, when stabbing himself twice in the breast, he died before he could be succoured. The Thracian suddenly commanded the dead bodies should be removed, which was done with so great a resentment to all, that the least expression was Tears. It was impossible that any body should eat, wherefore the Tables being took away, he accompanied us into the Keel; for now a Tempest so suddenly came on us, that it gave us not time to know our danger. It was  with darkness so, that it seemed the Gods had deprived us of the Beams of the Celestial Luminaries, that the waters might swallow us. It sceemed that heaven would smother the sea, and that it would make war against the Stars. The Winds concurring with the Waves, raised mountains and Precipices, Thunder, and Lightning, dazzling our sight, and taking away our hearing, took away all Command and Obedience. The cries of the Mariners and Pilots to keep the Rowers to their Duty, they heard so imperfectly, that instead of remedying the Danger, they produced more Confusion, and augmented fear. The Oars being too weak to contend with the violence of the Waves, were shivered into a thousand pieces; so also were their Cords and Tackle. The Thracians Diligences, who with a brave undauntedness now exhorted, now promised, now threatened, showing at one time both the Office of a Mariner, and a King, delayed our being cast away, which every moment we expected.  
By one of his Priests he was advertized, that the Sea-gods were offended, when dead bodies are carried aboard; the Genius of the Waters not enduring it: That this Piety might be exercised upon the shore, collecting their Ghosts into one place by devout Funerals. The Thracian durst not oppose this superstition or Religion of the Mariners: Therefore the bodies of the Admiral and his Father, being thrown among the Waves, the fury of the Tempest was suddenly appeased, we being driven far from Cyprus, upon the shores of afric. He gave command to his, that the Damages of their past Fortune should be repaired with all diligence; that with their more security they might make their return to Cyprus.  
Afterwards he came to King Vassileo, and (some talk of the past danger being ended) he said. There is not any thing Father, and Friend that more altars our deliberations than the Accidents of Fortune. All our proposals, designs, and all our promises, are lost, vanished, and retracted, when the reasons that first occasioned them are removed or altered; you promised the Princess Dianea to the youngest Son of the King of Armenia when others were not Suitors for her, and when your own Interests in your State were not so as they are at present. Now when I have delivered you from an enemy, the more formidable, because hard to be discovered, and that all things of your Kingdom are altered, why may you not with honour release yourself from your promise? I will not insist upon (to persuade you) the greatness of my States, the strength of my Armies, the valour of my People, because King Vassileo's mind cannot be tempted by hopes. So having spoke he did not manifest by any sign that he had him in his power, to demonstrate that with all candidness he treated of this Match, or else with a cunningness, seeming to slight it, to raise a greater opinion of him in the King.  
His Majesty, having a regard to his present condition, made use of such words as were convenient, expressing that he had a great desire to please him. He added afterwards, you propound to me friend a match to be wished for, when it was in my power to effect it, who would not (though with much trouble) procure an alliance with Amuritte, and Thracia? Who would not endeavour to renew himself, in a young man so valiant, and in a King so great? Yet know that to retract my word given to a King with the Consent of my Council, and to the satisfaction of my Subjects is not in my power. I propose not here the case of my reputation, and the honour of my promises. All that is lawful which pleaseth Amuritte; I reflect only upon the impossibility of a remedy, and upon the dangers that may succeed it. The King of Armenia, who is so near to my Dominions, would without doubt perceive himself injured by this offence. How will my Subjects suffer my excuses, when they find themselves wronged by them? But if I could do it, neither my people, Council, nor the King of Armenia against it, my Daughter's consent is to be got, whom I have ever left to her own choice in these Affairs of Matrimony. Minds are not born Subjects, nor should they be joined by violence. If this is observed among private persons, how much rather ought it with Kings, and those that are to succeed in Kingdoms?  
He proceeded, when Amuritte was advertized that four Galleys drew near them, carried thither by the late Tempest. And that, by as much as could be discerned at such a distance, the Colours belonged to the Armenians. The Thracian rejoiced at this encounter, wherein he should have occasion to kill his enemy; and presently gave command to all his to arm with all diligence, making provision of burning lime, pitch, and other artificial fires to damage his enemies with. The Galleys approaching, while the Armenians, who were more in number, demanded the obedience accustomary to the Sea; the Thracian took hold of this occasion, and charged them before they thought they could be assaulted. In this first encounter it was easy for him to surprise and rout two Galleys, yet torn and shaken by the Sea, and not suspecting such a matter. But he found greater resistance in the other two, the Infante being there with the most part of the Nobility of Armenia, coming to wait on the Prince, alured by the Applauses of these Nuptials. They grappled together, and began one of the fiercest fights that to the memory of man was ever seen on those Seas. The slain were many, the drowned infinite, and the wounded without number. The Archers shot not an Arrow in vain, and many times slew their friends when they aimed at their enemies. The Thracian, who now grew doubtful of the victory, having selected a brave company of his valiantest men, by plain force entered the Armenians Admirals Galley. There, although he was wounded by a thousand strokes, and lost blood from as many wounds, he singled out the Infante, who with a great courage defended himself. They collected all their strength in this fight, their men also becoming obstinate in the defence of their Princes. The Thracian, though he closed with the Armenian, the other for a while equally withstood him. At last they both fell; The Thracian had the better Fortune in the fall, for being uppermost he had time to strike the Armenian in the Groin with a Dagger, and in the Face with two mortal wounds. Afterwards, all besmeared with blood, in despite of his enemies, well defended by his own, more ready in fight, and better prepared for it, to the astonishment of all that saw him, he leapt into his own Galley. Then he made many fireballs to be thrown among them, so speedily, that the Armenians losing all courage with the Infante's death, and terrified with their own danger, suffered them to burn. This in a moment increased so fast, fomented by the wind, that if the Thracians had been slow in getting far enough off, they had proved what they intended only for others, and had easily been destroyed by their own fires.  
The Armenian Galleys were consumed in a moment, notwithstanding any command or diligence the chief Knights could use to prevent it. Those that blessed their good fortune, for having leapt into the Sea without their Arms were seen miserably to perish either by smoke, or to be drowned in the water. The groans of those that languished between their wounds, the waves, and the fire, provoked no pity in the cruelty of the Thracian, who feeling the smart of his own hurts was assisting to the utter destruction of the Armenians. Of whom there was not any that escaped from the fire or sea to carry the report of so great a loss. Many that by swimming came close to our Galley were most barbarously shot, at one time dying (unhappy as they were) two deaths.  
The Thracian joyful of this victory, believing now there could not be any thing to hinder his marriage with the Princess, or should prevent him of the Crown of Cyprus, felt not the pain of his wounds, although very considerable. Being requested by his to be dressed, he retired, making us partakers of his success. King Vassileo, though he received much sorrow at it, dissembled, enquiring of his health, expressing himself solicitous for it. Attestations of great men are ordinarily disguised according to their proper interests. The Princess and I had by it a mortified consolation, both their lives being equally hateful to us. Dianea then complained of Fortune, that ever and anon prepared dangers for her. But our sorrow continued not long, for we were told that a Galley pursued us, rowed at full speed. Amuritte understanding that it was only one Galley, seemed to slight it. On the sudden we imagined any thing but the truth; because being but one it delayed us sometimes in doubt. But because the mind easily thinks what it desires, we were of opinion they were more in number, and that this, either to discover the Sea, or to get some advantage, had separated from the others.  
Diaspe the Prince of Crete was in it, who having been invited to the Fishing, feigned himself sick, either because his mind presaged some evil, or that he would not mix in an action with the greatest enemy he had. This day he had not stirred abroad, but that the hour being come that they should necessarily return, he went to the Port to meet them. There not finding the Admiral nor any of his servants, and understanding that the Thracians that were divided into little Vessels were all also gone, he suddenly apprehended that there was some Treachery Enquiring of many his opinion was greatly confirmed, when he was ascertained that the Admiral went thence with the Thracians. He stood not long resolving, but took into the Admiral Galley the ablest Rowers out of the others, and five hundred of the valiantest, and the most trusty Soldiers, publishing the Treason, and with the chief of the Courtiers then put to Sea. He likewise left order that the other Galleys should follow him with more Forces, and with all speed that was possible.  
He was scarce got out of the Channel of Gavata, and left Cyprus on this side, when he was assaulted by a Tempest. But he received little harmeby it, His Galley being an extreme good one, well furnished with Slaves and Martiners, so that despite of the waves and the winds they followed their Voyage. In coasting the Promontory of Acerauno he was advertised they discovered two Galleys, which if they lay not at Anchor they made then no haste. Glad of this, he gave command, the Ghinge, and Soldiers should eat, putting themselves into Arms. He came upon the Thracians who had not time to prepare themselves for fight, slighting it, because it was but one, or not suspecting it for an enemy.  
Their Admiral was presently charged, for their other would make no defence, being hardly able to swim, much less to fight. The Thracians making weak resistance, Diaspe entered the Galley, making that slanghter which their perfidiousness deserved. Amuritte, being certified his Galley was taken, ran to the succour of his, despite of the Physicians, who protested against his life. He encouraged the Thracians, and for a while heartened them to fight. But they being unable to resist so great a multitude, fell down all either dead, or to render themselves Prisoners. He only obstinate in fight, after having shown many signs of an extraordinary valour, fell breathing out his soul from a mighty wound Diaspe had given him in the Breast. Such was the end of Amuritte the King of the Thracians, worthy truly for his many virtues of a more honourable death, if his dishonesty and ambition had not transported him upon such a Precipice.  
Diaspe came to kiss King Vassileo's hand, who received him with such a welcome as they deserve who save the lives of Kings. Dianea apparelling her affection in the habit of Gratitude, could not satisfy herself in honouring him. We returned to Cyprus, where the Consolations and Applauses of the Court were infinite: For upon such occasions also those that hate are obliged to demonstrate a joyfulness, lest they show their perfidiousness. All the Kindred of the Count of Cythera absented themselves, that his Majesty should take no other revenge of them, and to remove any suspicion of intending mischief. The Thracian Galleys with the body of Amuritte were sent to Nicepolis with a true relation of what had passed. But I know not for all that, whether his mother & brother gave credit to the truth; who believes he is offended, cares not for the cause. Diaspe would not ask the Princess in marriage until the arrival of his, whom he shortly expected. He knew the ill inclination of the Court, who envying and hating his valour could not but with mortification behold the King and Princess to honour him. They supposed that stolen from themselves which his Majesty conferred upon others, either for thankfulness or munificence.  
The Duchess would have proceeded in a discourse of those, who either by power, or riches had rendered themselves formidable, even to King Vassileo himself; who (because he durst not punish them) dissembled their faults; but perceiving that the Princess gave signs of weariness, and that she difficultly kept her eyes open that combated with sleep, she broke off her Rclation, both of them betaking themselves to a most sweet repose.  
The End of the First Book.    

DIANEA.  
The Second Book.  
THE Sun was hardly to be discerned upon the Tops of the Mountains, spreading abroad some stars of Light, as Forerunners of his Arrival, when Dianea arose, weary of her bed, which that night had brought more trouble than repose to her. She apparelled herself with such Vestments as beseemed her greatness; not accustoming herself to the superfluity of those Ornaments wherewith the Ladies of these days, following the vanity of their Genius, unprofitably waste their times and lives. Her face was without Art, the colours not affected. Her hair curling by Nature, was gathered up, and bound under a very thin veil, all beset with Jewels. A shame to those of our age, who to seem beautiful, when they are not, care not to appear rather Pictures than women; and to rob Sepulchers of their spoils, to deceive the eyes and judgements of those that look on them.  
When she was ready, she commanded her Damsels to withdraw, feigning her wont Devotions. Being left alone, she entered into the Cave, just as the Princess had done dressing of her. There, after some courteous salutations, she asked her how she had passed that night in a place so below her Desert, whiles she disturbed with a thousand Passions herself, had not for one minutes time, given her eyes any repose. The Princess answered she had never taken better rest, having cast wholly from her memory her former miseries, finding herself to have so large a part in the affections of so great a Princess; That now, if she was oppressed with any thought, it proceeded from doubt that she had been troublesome to her, and that she had nothing to express herself how grateful she was for the Honours she had received.  
They passed forward into divers Compliments,  with love and gentleness, when Dianea said: That having given some Truce to her own particular Passions, she had worn away a great part of the night in thinking of her; That to be (as it were) buried in Troubles and Dangers, the Discoverte of it would find some advice to facilitate it with satisfaction. And that therefore she entreated her to relate to her the Condition of her Fortune, and the Accidents of her life. From whence with better Counsel, and more mature Deliberation, they might lay hold on more proper and necessary Remedies.  
The Princess replied, that she had an ambition to recount to her the Encounters of her miseries, who would commiserate and assist her. That in misfortunes there is found no greater Consolation then in the pity we perceive in others. Many times their Tears bless Infelicity, that compassionate it. Here for a while she made a stop, as if she would take breath, or as if she waited for new commands. But not being interrupted, she thus began her discourse, while Dianea attentive hung at her lips.  

The History of the Princess Florides, and Prodito.  
THE Island of Negropont, for the greatness, and the nobleness of it, is Queen of the Archipelagus. It is separated from Paeotia by a long Channel, which joins it with the firm Land. There I was borne King Dinanderto's Daughter, that then to the comfort of his Subjects, and admiration of his Neighbours, governed the Sceptre. Among his many conditions that rendered him to Adoration, his Goodness was one, through which many times he did not only forget injuries received, but with an unbelieved courtesy, loved those that hated him.  
In the first years of his Reign, he enlarged the Confines of his Empire so prosperously, that it seemed Fortune in a Dream had subjugated Provinces to him. All that confined to him, he had made his Tributaries, and had borne so successful Arms, that his Conquests crowded one another, where also many times his own soldiers found Sepulchers of glory. He after fixed his mind upon higher Attempts, designing perhaps the recovery of that, which either by Fortune of war, or other alienation had been usurped from the Crown of Negropont. But on the sudden he was constrained to call back his Forces, to the defence of his own State, invaded by most powerful Armies of Lodaso, King of Vesati, the most warlike that ever was borne of that Nation, the fiercest, and most formidable in the world.  
The Reasons that moved this man to invade us were supposed many: But the principal wa●; Some of my Father's Subjects, who aspired under new Princes to mend their Fortunes, or who by their valour rendered necessary to the State, should be recompensed by his Majesty with bestowing me on them to wife. The War being denounced, and we overcome, we began to feel all those discommodities and miseries which they receive who are seen unjustly despoiled, and robbed of what they have, without any means to prevent it. Our principal Cities, either through fear, or treachery, set open their Gates to the Enemy, so that the greatest part of his Dominions being lost, we had nothing remaining but what this Island contained in it.  
My Father, who in many Battles had found Fortune contrary to him, having gathered together the last Forces he was able to raise, Commanded the Duke of Lovastine, who from a private Knight, by the King's favour, with the envy of all, was advanced to this degree to Adventure his uttermost hopes on a set Field. The Duke readily obeyed the Commands of his Majesty, and under Zenilp offered the Enemy battle, who more then willingly encountered him. This was one of the most obstinate and bloody fights they had: Even my memory I confess hath lost the remembrance of so cruel assaults. It began two hours after Sun-rise, and continued till Noon, without the least advantage to be perceived on either side. Lodato, that for valour would yield to none, ran through every thing, leaving it hard to be distinguished, whether he was General, or a private Soldier. At last Victory inclining to his side, and evident signs of having the better appearing; the Duke of Lovastine, all hope of overcoming being lost, with a select party of his best men charged that part where Lodato's Prowetle performed wonders. He alone aimed at him, and having unhorsed him, they wounded him mortally. His men, who obeyed him as a King, and adored him as a God, seeing him fall to the ground, ran thither, making such a slaughter of our men, that there almost all our Officers of note were slain, the Duke of Lovastine being sorely wounded. The Vesats had the victory, though losing their King: it was believed they had the worst. He being brought off to his Pavilion, with so much undauntedness exhorted his to prosecute the war, as if he had commanded over death. He recommended the Government of the Army to the Duke of Vimana, entreating his to continue without faction; because they could not be overcome, if they were not disunited. And desired his friends to dry their eyes; for he could not have received a greater benefit from the Gods than to die at the top of his glories, with his Arms in his hands; He had lived long enough he said, who had the Fortune to point them out the way of liberty. With these words he ended his life, with so great a sorrow to his that many would not survive him. His Exequys were not yet accomplished, but the Bier many days carried about the Army, with such a sadness of the soldiers, that they (esteeming Tears too ordinary a way to expesse their Passion and Affection) bathed it daily with blood.  
News of this being brought to the Court, it was entertained according to several affections. The friends to the Crown rejoiced at it, as if this only blow had occasioned our security and the safety of the State. But those that expected to build their hopes upon our Precipices, received it with an extraordinary sorrow, and expressed it with attempting to bring the Duke of into disgrace with my Father, who being of an incredible goodness, did not believe himself deceived, nor that others would deceive him. His Majesty for all this continued to reward him according to the merit of his valour, enriching him daily with Lordships, money, and privileges, so that he had not in the Kingdom neither a Superior nor Equal. He being advertized of the Treacheries his Enemies intended him, writ to my Father: That having served him so many years, careless of his life, he desired now some repose, not to absent himself from dangers, or to withdraw himself from his service, but to cure himself of some Evils which rendered him an old and an unable man before his time. That the charge of an Army was overgreat a Burden for the shoulders of an old man, that had spent more blood in the Service of the Crown, than he had left for the preservation of himself. That the Interests of his Majesty required, that others should be employed in the Wars, to supply his weaknesses. Other Resolute, but very Respectful things he urged, which compelled Dinanderto to send to him expressly that he should continue his command, adding other particulars of honour, the more to oblige him to him.  
The Duke for some time, to his very great applause, prosecuted his charge; but understanding that his Enemies proceeded in multiplying crimes upon him, which never entered into his mind, that they treated about Articles of peace, without once mentioning him in them, and that the King of the Gauls sent the Duke of Riot with a Command equal to his own, having but an ill opinion of the Princes of Catanosa, who were volunteers in the Army; he began to think of some security for his own safety. He set some Prisoners at liberty, without taking any thing from them, but a simple Testimony of honour. He negotiated effects of friendship with the Monarch of the Belgi, of the Aquitans, and the Celta; and lastly, so ordered the business, that the greater part of the Heads, the Colonels, and the Captains of the Army subscribed to a writing, in the which they obliged themselves to serve him in all encounters, and never to abandon him while they lived.  
My Father had Notice speedily given him of all this; but not crediting these Relations, although proceeding from reasons well affected and uninterested, he would understand the truth with more certainty; he made the Duke of Lassimano, Nephew to Lovastine, to be brought into his presence, unto whom he made a Discourse of the Merits, of the Virtue, and of the Victories of the General, and that he had resolved to send him to him, to comfort him, and assure him, that sinister informations could not alienate his heart from that man, whom he loved equal to himself. That he knew the wickedness of Courts, where the most worthy are the soon exposed to the injuries of malignity and envy. Upon this occasion, he made one of his Councillors of State to accompany him, giving him private Commission to spy into the actions of the Duke of Lovastine, forcing himself to penetrate even into his thoughts, his operations, and his ends. The Counsellor being come to the Army was informed of the Rebellion of the General, of his Treaties with the Enemies, and of a thousand other particulars, which rendered him guilty. He gave his Majesty notice of this, while some of the chief who had subscribed to the Paper, came and signified it in his presence.  
My Father remained astonished at an attempt so execrable. Considering that the sum of the businesses consisted in the speedy dispatch of them, he declared the Duke of Lovastines' Commission for General to be void, that he was a Rebel to the Crown, and an enemy to his Prince, commanding all the Provinces that they should not obey him, and promised high rewards to such as should deliver him into his hands. He committed the charge of his crimes to collateral Picomeni, and to the Count of Lagasso, Subjects of an experimented worth. Thus he commanded that he should entertain the enemy, and that he charged to take the Duke before he should have time to defend or save himself.  
Lovastine was in a walled Town in the Confines of Boeotia when he understood the deliberations of his Majesty. Here, although he could have defended himself, having Soldiers and Ammunition enough, perceiving the Colours of the Count of Lagasso, that intended to surprise him under the appearance of a friend, he fled thence with two Troops of Horse, and four Colonels joined to him by friendship and kindred. He retired into a Castle, the strongest of Baeetia, with hope there to defend himself from all the Forces of the world. The situation rendered it inexpugnable by Nature and Art. The Soldiers were of a tried fidelity, and the Governor his Creature, by him elected to that Command, a stranger by birth, for the most part valorous, the most worthy, and the most faithful. The Advises of Lagasso were brought thither before the arrival of the Duke; whereupon the Governor (after he had received him into the Castle, and had saluted him with welcome belonging to a Subject, and a Subject obliged with benefits) he resolved to secure him. He shut the Duke up in a Chamber, molested with thoughts, or indispositions of health, and without taking any meat, gave order he should be left to his repose. The rest, being invited by the Governor, went with him to supper, where almost all that were acquainted with his purpose came among them, and a certain sign being given, they were slain with little or no resistance. Being surprised, they had scarce time to lay hold on their Swords, two of them being killed before they could rise from their seats. From thence, presently after, they went to the Chamber where the Duke was, and breaking down the door they rushed violently in. He starting up, ran to a window, either to leap forth, or to call out for help. Perceiving the height mortal, to escape impossible, and his Guard out of the way, he leapt upon a soldier to take his Halberd from him. They with so much cunning prosecuted their business, that the Duke unwittingly wounded himself mortally upon it. He after spoke many words, protesting his innocency. That he fled from the anger of his Majesty without any other meaning but to secure himself; That if he had had any intention upon the King's life, or on the Kingdom, he could not have wanted ways more secure and execrable; That he appealed to his Majesty when he would cast aside the ill impression he had received from his ill-willers, and desired him with all severity to weigh his Actions. He aggravated the misery of those who are necessitated to serve the Grandees of the world, that can do what they will.  
The standers by suffered him to speak till he breathed out his soul, either for the reverence they bore him, who many times had commanded even the King himself, or else because, perceiving him a dying, they esteemed it an impiety to be cruel to a Carcase. My Father at the report of these things could not refrain from tears; he commanded sacrifices should be offered to the Gods for the good of his soul. Although many had a hand in this Conspiracy, he contented himself only with the imprisonment of two. Accounting it an high revenge if he made others see, that if he had a mind he had power to punish offenders.  
These extremes of his goodness gave leave to some wicked men to aggravate the Innocency of the Duke of Lovastine in so free discourses, that my Father was in a very great fear of himself. They said, the services he had done to the Crown merited not a death so much the more miserable, because it was infamous. That that should not be denied to the greatest man of the world, which is not refused to the least. That Dinanderto learned ingratitude of other Princes, which was a  fault in all, but a cursed one in his Majesty, that would have his own goodness and piety believed greater than the deserts of the other. That the Kingdom had felt the damage of such a loss. And that the Enemy had never had a completer victory than now by the death of so great a Commander.  
Only the Duke of Lassimano, Lovastines' Nephew, aggravating the Crimes of his Uncle, accused my Father of too much gentleness in being contented, that the life of only one should be sacrificed for his safety and fears; That had he been guilty of no other faults but his intelligence with the Enemies of the Crown, that was sufficient to render him worthy of any Punishment. These aggravations in a manner so won upon the goodness of my Father, who (not considering that injuries are never forgot, and that being writ indelebly in the heart, they die not but with the heart itself) conferred all possible honours upon him; and lastly recommended to him the defence of himself. His Majesty remained confident of the affection of this man, he performing one deed that made him imagined very faithful. My Father, being gone an hunting with almost all the Court, was surprised with a sudden shower, accompanied with hail, thunders, and wind, that it seemed it would devour the world. He got into a Cave to shelter himself from the fury of Heaven. Scarce was he entered within it, but broken, I know not whether by time or destiny, with an unexpected ruin it began to tumble down. All overcome with amazement preferred their own safety before the Kings, flying thence whither their fear carried them. The Duke, either out of bravery contemning death, or to authenticate his infidelity, supporting with his back what was ready to fall, with no small danger to himself, gave leisure to my Father to escape forth, who afterwards sent others in to bring him off, who had remained there in great danger to have sunk under the weight.  
His Majesty believing that these deeds could not be counterfeit, and that it was not possible that one should hazard life for him he loved not, kept him always near him, and according to his liking were all Counsels determined, and all deliberations regulated. The perfidious man, growing proud of the prosperity of his Fortune, feigued himself enamoured of me, with so much cunning, that it seemed he was willing to die for love. I that could not endure to look on him, not so much because he was Nephew to a Traitor, but because formerly I had obliged my heart to the Duke of Filena, one of the most worthy and consciousest Princes that belonged to the service of the Crown. My Father did not oppose my desires, and if the Interesses of the War had not diverted, that thought had effectuated them. It was easy for Prodirto (for so was the Duke of Lassimano called) perceiving himself excluded, and slighted by me, to penetrate into my ends. Our practices were apparent to all; for I supposing myself, as it were, as good as married to him, there was not any thing that I omitted to make him believe me so. Prodirto studied to free himself of a Rival, and did it under the species of honour, according to his usual cunning.  
Instead of the Prince my brother, a General of the Army was to be chosen, who not being yet sixteen years of Age could not undergo the troubles of War. He served himself with this occasion to send the Duke of Filena far off. He proposed this to the Council of State, applauding the greatness of his mind, and the merits of his person, with so much eloquence, that he prevailed for his departure, and notwithstanding a thousand oppositions, and infinite pretences, he was there chosen by the greater part of the Votes. The Duke of Filena being gone to his Charge, Prodirto applied his mind to the accomplishment of his wickednesses.  
My Father was given to love much more than was befitting a Prince; There was no other blemish upon his honours, but this of natural inclination, reputed  in the opinion of all men: for although it be common to all, yet it is not so convenient for all. The Age of my Father, which was now declining, and two Children, which made him seem older than he was, could not stop him in the pursuit of his pleasures. He had received, presented to him, a Greek of so singular beauties, that they would have overcome the continency of a thousand Xenocrates. The beauty of Venus, being subjected to comparison, would have found in the face of her, at least emulation, if not envy. To this my Father engaged all his affections; All the hours that he could steal from public business he spent in the fruition, or adoration of that Object, of which many times he had confessed himself unworthy. He had kept her in his own Lodgings, if mine and my brother's years had not persuaded him to the contrary. At the farther end of the Garden there were some Lodgings, with Pictures embellished, and Sculptures of the chief of their profession. Pornia here was laid, for so was the name of that Greek, with so much care of my Father, who not only would conceal her from the eyes of heaven, but many times became jealous even of his own self. Prodirto prevailing upon this occasion, feigned some business of very great consequence with my Father. He told him, that Pornia weary of the cold embraces of an old man, with a scorn to his Majesty, almost every night enjoyed a young man belonging to the Court of a very low condition. It was no difficult thing that this lie should suddenly find credit with my Father: For some Lovers believe impossible things true. He shown so lively feelings of grief, that it appeared his heart, presaging his evil, did not without reason oblige him to sorrow. After various Consultations, he resolved (being so persuaded by Prodirto) to go with him alone in the darkest time of the night to punish that Prometheus, who durst presume to steal his fire.  
The Duke being gone, joyful at this Resolution, went to find the Prince my brother: with whom it was no hard thing to work a greater Art than that which he had used with his Majesty. He represented to him (after a feigned relation of the deed) that injuries done to the Father directly wounded the reputation of the Son, who ought the more to resent them, because he had the more strength to revenge them. That his Majesty could not receive a greater comfort than to see his Son so ardent in chastening injuries committed against his Father. That to publish it was scandalous, dangerous, and unhandsome. That though, peradventure, it should be false when it should chance to be reported to his Majesty, he would receive it with an high opinion of him, and if that it were true, there could not be an easier and worthier revenge imagined than by his own hands. That it was an high great privilege to Princes to have power to punish injuries without danger to their friends. He also added the easiness of the task, not to have to do with more than one man without Arms, and who being set on on the sudden, may be imagined soon killed. To be brief, he did not omit any Motive that he thought might persuade him. All Considerations were superfluous, for the Prince was resolved upon the knowledge of the Deed. He loved Pornia with no ordinary affection, and conceited this Offence done against himself. If he could, he would have got her before she fell into the hands of his Father: afterwards, either for duty or fear he seemed not to care for her; although his desires increased, by reason, he concealed them.  
The night came so furnished with darkness, (even palpable) that it could not be more obscure. The unfortunate Father and Son believed Heaven was propitious to their Designs, being able amidst these Honours to observe, without being observed, which it meant to cover, or prevent so cruel an action. The Stars also vanished all out of sight, peradventure not to be called guilty of that Tragedy, the malignity of their Influencea, ordinarily being accused for that which depends absolutely on our Wills. Or else they hide their heads to make their deaths appear more miserable, in that they could not implore and see the Celestial Luminaries.  
My Father giving himself over to be directed in all the business, by the will of Prodirto descended into the Garden, that very moment the Prince came thither. They encounter near Pornia's Lodgings; each of them did imagine at whom they expected, and began to wound one another. They struck but two blows a piece, and none in vain: The Prince received an hurt in his head, which broke his skull, and was run in his breast through his body. My Father also had a wound which came out at his shoulder, but being in a fleshy place, though it was dangerous, it was not mortal. The other, although no very great one, was in his throat, which hindered his breathing, and voice. Hearing the Prince fall, he said he was alive, and called Prodirto, that he should aid him. The Traitor suspecting these words, might awaken the Soldiers, or the Court, although hardly heard by himself, came against him, murdering him with many stabs of a Dagger, which he carried to that purpose.  
Floridea here stayed, her tears interrupted her words. You cannot deny (said she) unto the unhappy Memory of my Father those Rights of Amuritte, which being known in all, are more though then natural in women. Suppressing notwithstanding her grief with a generous suflerance, she proceeded.  
Prodirto being gone out of the Garden, through a private door, called together the greatest part of his Kindred, who being certified of the deed, without any resistance took possession of the City, They that were more honest, being astonished at this chance, perceiving to declare for my Right, were to precipitate themselves into danger of their lives, gave way to Fortune, rather than Tyranny.  
Whilst these strange Changes were in acting, I enjoyed a most sweet Retirement. I mocked at Destiny, which being evermore ready to vex me, now decived me with (as it were) a brave pleasant sleep. I was then for my Recreation in a Castle upon the Sea shore, and to obey the will of my Father, who much against his mind looked upon those that could reprove him of his Amours, although with silence. I was awakened out of it by the Guard, and Pornia was presented to me, who more by her tears then by her words assured me of my evil. The grief I received at it was so great, that becoming an altered woman, I deceived the opinion of others, not being able to deceive my own sorrow. They thought to have seen me run mad, overcome with Passion, which being grown to the height, suffered not any external actions to disburden my heart. That grief is ordinary which is raised by weeping, and that can evaporate itself by shrieks and lamentation. Those Diseases are mortal which take away the life before they show their Malignity. Truly, I know not whether I was so estranged from myself by the greatness of my sorrow, or for fear of myself, which (from my Imagination) represented to me a great deal more than the loss of my Father and brother.  
I was about doubling the Guards, and to fortify the Castle just as the Traitor sent to surprise it. When he understood his Attempt was frustrated, for anger he made him to be beheaded, to whom he had given the Command. Many times Traitors exercise Justice, not because they are just, but because Heaven will be served by their impieties to punish wicked men. He besieged me in the Castle, having before made use of all affectionate words to gain me without violence. Although I could have resisted all the Armies of the Kingdom, I could not, notwithstanding fight against Necessity, there being Ammunition but for a Month. Their fidelity that preferred my safety above their own could not be cemented against Famine, which without combating can Conquer Armies.  
Whereupon I resolved to send two of my trusty servants to the Duke of Filena to implore his succour. I gave him an account of the viclence of Prodirto, and the dangers of my Virginity and life. Although Lovers have no need of Spurs, I used all those means that had power to persuade even the mind of an Enemy. I remembered him that the Kingdom of Negrepont, expected from his Valour, a release from Tyranny, that coming to my aid, he brought a Defence for his own Affairs. I added that I would have sent him my heart, if a thing so dear that bore his Image on it would have been separated by the Treacheries of Enemies, or the faith of a servant. I gave him notice also, that if he could not come with his Army, he should with one Galley, the Sea being free then, the Foe having no vessels of consideration, so that all other Remedies failing, I might fly thence with him to preserve alive my Title to the Kingdom, and to escape from the hands of a Traitor.  
In ten days an Answer returned, but not the messenger, being deceived by a counterfeit Character, I attended the Duke of Filena's coming, with that Anxiety a Lover can wish for, as it was promised me by the Letter, darker than usual, by the obscureness of the Treason they prepared. The appointed night being come, believing I opened to the Duke of Filena, I found me between the Arms of Prodirto, who having secured my messengers by counterfeiting the Duke's hand, deceived me, he having neither ingenuity nor virtue to imitate the other in but only his Characters. He had much ado to hold my hand, which would preserve my liberty in despite of the treacheries of Enemies. But protesting all respect to me, and promising me I should receive no harm, he pacified me.  
Although daily he frequented my Company, he yet never forgot he was my Subject. His words were so courteous, his expressions so affectionate, his Promises so great, that they very much lessened my hatred, though it was impossible for me to love him. Every day he had the Soldiers in a readiness. The Commonalty he obliged with Gifts, kept his friends together, entreated his kindred, and neglected no means that might assure the Crown to him. All the principal Cities had sworn obedience to him; some being overcome by a desire of Novelty, others by force, and all by cunning. He had an Army more numerous than strong: the poor he banished; and the Male content followed the Standards of that impious man, who ought not to have been followed but by as wicked as he. When he saw himself freed from his fears, either by the flatteries of those that know not how to speak to Princes, but of Felicity: or by a mighty quantity of Halberdiers that waited on him, he began to lay aside that courtesy he had formerly used to me. Coming one day to talk with me, he said:  
Princess, If with my blood I could restore the life of your Father and Brother, I would do it with that eagerness which beseems a Subject, who loves his Princess equal to himself. After their Decease I am put to the stern of this Ship, beat upon by the fury of Fortune, not to steal it from your greatness and merits, but not to suffer it to be endangered among the Rocks of Ambition, and not to abandon it to the Incursions of the most Barbarous, and most perfidious. Notwithstanding this zeal of mine would show little respect to the Acts of your Progenitors, and to the Establishment of your Happiness, if I should not procure to protect your youth from the intentions of many, with joining you in marriage to a person who is able to defend your Kingdom for you. Having reflected upon Princes, that parallel you in Dominions, I have found more oppositions than equalities: Many either deformed in mind, or countenance: Others incapable, or insupportable in the Kingdom. Lastly, all either so full of those Tenants, or of those vices detested by others, but insupportable to the people of Negropont. After many considerations I have resolved, that you cannot find out a more secure stay, nor more to be authorized then myself. I am persuaded no body will disdain to serve him who hath the Queen to his wife, and hath many times commanded the King himself. I do not believe I am unworthy of you, not so much because I exceedingly love you, but by reason I demand that, which by the right of War ought to be mine. You ought not to resuse me, if you have regard to the Danger your person is in, the security of your State, and to the quiet of your Subjects.  
He omitted not other Particulars, and other Maxims, accompanied with so much craft, that they would have deceived those that had not known him. I thought it not best to contradict him, whose hands were no less wicked than his heart. I believed that nothing else could save me, but making use of his Appatences to deceive Art by Art. I answered him: That this was not the first expression of his Affection, nor these the first Obligations that the Crown of Negropont owed him: That if the Gods vonchsafed me to reign, he should find no ingrateful effects in it; that he should have no occasion to envy the felicity of any, nor to desire an higher greatness. That I would establish him in such a condition, that he should find his troubles abundantly rewarded, and his zeal requited. That concerning marriage, I neither refused, nor received him. That when peace and quietness had secured the Crown, and confirmed the Sceptre to me, I would follow the advice of the Council of State, the will of my friends, and of him in particular. That I conceived it very necessary to have the opinion of the Duke of Filena, as one who at present was the Patron of the Armies near the Kingdom: and that it was expedient to demand his advice, to express I espected him, although I should displease him.  
To these words he replied, that he commended my Discourse, as having its foundation upon safety, and reason: But that I ought to take notice, that weighty businesses, if they were not prosecuted with speed, encountered with a thousand hindrances which retarded them, and many times confounds them. That it was an effect of weakness to depend upon the desires and the wills of others that aim for the most part at their own proper Interests, not to the Greatness or Reputation of Princes. That Kings sometimes admitted of Council to hear the applauses and approbations of their own opinions, not to be brought to theirs. What should Princes be if they must depend on the Consults, and be regulated by the odd humours of others. That at the beginning of her Reign she should not prejudicated her own authority. Subjects too often entrench upon Jurisdiction, and endeavour to prescribe Law to their King. Especially, that choosing a Prince for her Husband, not unworthy of herself, she was not obliged to depend upon the will, no not of her Father himself.  
I contradicting these opinions with many reasons, and he enforcing himself to confute the same, after many replies grew angry with me in his talk, and being cruel by nature, began to lay hands on me, saying; That he had power to persuade me even without speaking. I endeavoured to have killed myself, but it availed not. For he, fearing my resolutions, gave me not leisure to lay hold on any thing. I gave way to my tears to try, if with the most lively blood of my soul, I might purchse my honesty. This thought of mine took not effect, for there is no blood that can mollify an heart that is harder than Diamond. The perfidious man attempted to accomplish his designs now. My defences served me to no other end, but to weaken myself, and exasperate him the more. I that much rather desired death than the loss of mine honour, although I should see my body but not my mind forced, troubled him with repulses, with bitings, with my nails, not omitting schreekes and tears, that I know not how the stones escaped to be moved to Rescue. Pornia, full of an incredible boldness, ran in at this noise, took a dagger, which by chance lay there, and seeing the violence he offered me, gave him such a blow, that had it hit full, he had never more made use of force. Perceiving himself struck, he came against Pornia, who but weakly defending herself, ready to die with many wounds, fell down. I ran into another Chamber, wherein there was nothing; but I employed to secure the door. He made not any use of his strength against it: whereupon I being assured by those that waited on me of Prodirto's departure, came forth not to defraud Pornias' Funeral of my tears.  
There was in the Castle a little Temple consecrated to Pallas. Hardly was I arrived there to make ready the Hearse, when Prodirto entered, so changed in his countenance, that I believed him certainly come to murder me. He commanded some of his by main force to seize on me, making me to be carried into a Galley, which he had in readiness near the Castle. Then he made them fall to their Oars exhorting them by his own voice, and hasting them by the whip. It was necessary for him to be gone, because the Duke of Filena, with all his Army was come to take him Prisoner. The Soldiery had suddenly revolted, and all the Cities had set their Gates open to him, and offered him their Keys, the which in my name he received from all. We were not forty Leagues from the Island but the Gods made Prodirto know how much they hated Traitors. At an instant the Sun was seen to be obscured, the Air darkened, and the Sea grown rough. Thunders and Lightnings strove together to deprive the Mariners of their sight and hearing. Many times it seemed, when we were mounted up by the Waves, that the Heavens opened to receive us, to strike us with Lightning near hand, as if the Thunderbolts could not reach us further off. The Stern was broken, the Mast split, the Tackle unfit for use, the Anchors lost, the Sails torn, the Mariners amazed,, and the Slaves weary, when, defended only by the goodness of our Vessel, with a most prosperous presage we came to shore in your Kingdom, in that port of the Island, which out of a respect to religion continues inhabitable.  
She would have related how, being led aside by the Duke to ease himself after the weariness of the sea, she had the opportunity to escape from him, if she had not been prevented by the Duchess of Bell Prato, who put a letter into Dianeas hands; Knowing the hand, she received it with such a feeling as falls into that mind which fears, and hopes. Before she read it she said to Floridea; Friend, and Sister, for by these names I will ever call you, it is fit that I discover to your gentle disposition all the seerets of my heart. This Letter comes from Diaspe the Prince of Crete; the Character doth not deceive me; But whether as from an enemy or friend I know not; because your Arrival here had disturbed our appointments, and prevented our designs. Just when I first saw you, the Prince attended; you having barred up the Entrance, and I not in time giving him notice of it hath made him departed hence towards Crete. All my diligence hitherto to find him hath proved fruitless. Now he writes to me. I cannot but imagine he is angry. Heaven grant it be not implacable: Though I know that such fits in Lovers are fomentations to affection. This said, she read the Letter; The Contents of which were these.  
Princess,  
I do not write to reprove the Blushes for your Infidelity: For who cannot love cannot blush. That fire which could not kindle your heart, I very well know cannot spread itself in your Face. I writ to justify my Resolutions, and to confound your disloyalty. The retiring Places of the Grott have not been able to bury your Amours. That God, whom so extremely you worship, should advertise you, that he goes naked, because it is impossible to conceal him; and that dissimulations are not Garments that can cover him. To my own happiness I have discovered thus much. That I should not be hers who will not be mine, unless in the same time she might bestow herself upon others. Heaven be praised that you came not to be the destruction of my Kingdom. Dissolute women too much have afflicted Grecia. I have satisfied the tears of my sorrow with the blood of him that came to enjoy you. This Passion which cannot bring you my full Anger, will doubtless present you with this Advertisement. If the others Soul be in the body that loves, I have punished at one time your perfidiousness, and satisfied the justice of my indignation. Live then with grief to have lost at once two Lovers; the one scorned, and the other slain, and perpetually fear to hear the Reproaches of a sinister Fame. I go from hence to Crete, where I shall find beauties more worthy, because they will prove more modest.  
Diaspe.  
She had scarce read these last words, but her hands would make amends for the Offences given her eyes, tearing that Letter into a thousand pieces, which designed her to a continual lamentation. Her tongue also ran for the succour of her heart, uttering those things which might vent out her grief and lessen her passion. Faithless man, said she, didst thou want other means less impious to satiate thy barbarismes? Couldst thou with ways more cruel disdain my Affections? With wickeder stratagems couldst thou triumph over my simplicity? Couldst thou with more disguised Fictions betray my Innocency? Is this thy faith! these thy promises! these thy oaths! O Dianea, only unhappy because thou hast loved. Gods, why preserved you me from the hands of the Thracian, who could only have deprived me of my life, to leave me a prey to a wicked one, who at once takes from me my Kingdomee, Life, and Honour? Wherefore preserved you me safe from the furies of the sea, to let me be swallowed up in an Ocean of Infamy? Cruel one, are they Arguments that I can love others, because I have loved thee? Thou shouldst not therefore have doubted of it, being I cannot love myself. If I had, I should not have disposed my honour and fortune into the hands of a man, to whom inconstancy is as proper as motion to the Heavens. Thou hast reason to suppose me unfaithful, because I have betrayed myself. But where are those testimonies that make my Innocency seem guilty? How canst thou convince my heart of disloyalty, that out of an abundance of affection to thee grew jealous of itself? Ought I then to be convicted for a simple suspicion? Doubts than must serve for proofs against her, who to be be thine hath been willing to endanger her life, displease her Subjects, and deceive her Father. Wicked man, I know thy perfidiousness. Because thou canst not love, thou feignest things for true which cannot fall under Imagination, much less sense. Suspicions are not nourished but in unfaithful bosoms: as Thunderbolts are not made but in the coldest Regions of the Air.  
Dianea no sooner had finished these Complaints, but Floridea would have tried all means to have comforted her, if she had not been assured by the Duchess, that her Father who came to visit her was not far off. At notice of this she stopped the Torrent of those tears, which ran with her tongue to exaggerate her sorrows. She forced herself to disguise her passions, and to conceal those signs that might make the wariness of a King jealous, whom Age had not deprived of his judgement. Having taken leave of Floridea, she went to meet her Father, who was already entered into the Palace. She presently gave sign, by the paleness of her face, and by the ghastliness of her eyes, of the motions of her mind, and the alteration of her heart. Yet for the most part she satisfied the fears of her Father, suspicious at it; she told him the cause, laying the blame on the night past, wherein she had neither slept, nor taken any repose; you had need therefore (replied Vassileo) choose you such a Companion that should provoke you to rest, and taking her by the hand retired into the Garden, and said to her:  
Daughter, since the unfortunate success of the Infante of Armenia, I have had no greater thought than about your Marriage. You cannot remain as you are, without danger to yourself, and me. They that envy the happiness of my State, and aspire to the Possession of the Kingdom, under the pretence of wedding you, cover either their infidelity, or ambition. The example of the Count of Cythera should teach Princes not to promote, with hopes, the wicked affections of their Subjects, and strangers. There is not any who will not acknowledge himself enamoured on your person, and your Kingdom. But should other Motives be wanting, that of posterity makes me desirous; I wish to see myself renewed in my grandchildren, which I would not leave in their Nonage in a Kingdom so great and powerful, but yet not without enemies. Provinces and Kingdoms, the richer they are the more are they envied. Many make but slight esteem of that victory, which enricheth not the Conqueror, and great dangers stay not some from great pretensions; your Nuptials will allay these suspicions which deprive me of all consolation. To these therefore I desire your assent, which I believe cannot be contrary to my desires and my entreaties.  
Dianea dissembling those afflictions that oppressed her soul, after a little pause to recover her spirits, answered; Becks from your Majesty ought by all to be received as Commands, not only by your Daughter, who hath learned no other thing but obedience, and can serve you in nothing but obeying you. The King replied, another answer he could not look for from her discretion and affection: The Duke of Filena shall be your Husband, a young man to whom nothing is wanting to render him superior to all, but a Kingdom, which you shall bring him in dowry. In peace he hath not his Equal, and in war none above him. The Kingdom of Negropont, which hath been the Theatre, whereon he hath acted the wonders of his valour, bewails his absence. He hath quieted the seditious, extinguished the Rebels, returned liberty to the people, and not being else able to resist the entreaties of those who would have had him their King, he is hither retired into our Kingdom. Prepare you then, for I will remove all stops that may delay this Marriage. This said, he parted from her, because perceiving Dianea in a great perplexity of mind he would not trouble her farther, retiring joyful to the Court, in that he had opened the business, on which he conceived all his happiness depended.  
Dianea, after her Father's departure, finding her heart a narrow Vessel for an Excess of an overflowing Love, exhaled her Passion in words, sighs, and tears. Now she called Heaven to be witness of her Innocence. Now blamed Cupid, that ingenerated in the hearts of Lovers suspicions so fare from Truth. Now she accused Diaspe of injustice, who had concluded her guilty without hearing her defences. Now she complained of Fortune, who (between her perpetual motions of inconstancy) was a continual affliction to her. Now she reproved herself of her errors, for so easily yielding to the Affections of that man which determine in the fruition of the Object. But when she fixed upon the consideration of having promised her Father to entertain the marriage with the Duke of Filena, and to be deprived even of the hope of having Diaspe, forgetting altogether the reservedness becoming a Princess; it appeared by her, that she would not, or could not live any longer. She beat the earth with her feet, because she having been believed a Heaven of Beauty, peradventure persuaded herself that the Vapours of her Passions could have no original, but from the Earth. She struck her face with her hands, as if she meant to punish the beauty there, as Author of her Infelicity. She knocked her Breast, and it seemed she would chase thence that Image which against her will tyrannised in her heart. Lastly, she tore her hair, making them guilty of Diaspe's far away absence, because they had not the power to stay and entangle him. The sense of her sorrow ceased not to torment her: And these Rages which came as Nature's under-Assistants for the consolation of her mind, augmented the oppressions of it. Finally, overcome and cast down by the Assault of of many passions, she was constrained, by a violent Fever, to betake herself to her Bed, whilst her griefs presaged nothing but her Death.  
The Duchess used all means to comfort her, representing to her infinite expectations; very well knowing, that hope, although remote, is the true nourishment of Love, and the only Consolation of Lovers. When she perceived her tired, with a Conquering sorrow, and that it seemed that her eyes which were even drained with weeping, desired Repose, despite of grief, which wished to see her engaged to a perpetual Lamentation, she went from her to Floridea in the Cave. To whom she recounted the ill-fortune of the Princess, and the Resolution she had taken to disoblige her heart from Diaspe, obeying her Father, and marrying the Duke of Filena. The Duchess had understood from Dianea, King Vassileo's Intention, but knew nothing of the Love that had passed between Floridea, and the Duke of Filena.  
When Floridea heard the Duke named, with a great alteration, she beseeched, who was that Duke of Filena, who was accounted worthy of such a Princess. The Duchess answered her, he was the most celebrated King at that time Fame reported, and that enoblized the Glories of his blood, by the wonders of his Virtue, by which he had conquered envy itself. That King Vassileo, even when he was a great way hence, had elected him for his son, and that not many days since he arrived here to solemnize these Nuptials, which most sumptuously are a preparing. Floridea had scarce heard the sense of these last words, but being surprised with a trembling of the heart, she beseeched the Duchess to leave her, until she had passed over that fit, which she conceived of little moment, being accustomed formerly to have greater. Being alone, she gave liberty to her tongue, that accompanying her eyes, they might celebrate the Funeral of her hopes.  
Unfortunate (cried she) are they that found their Desires upon the inconstancies of Fortune. I grew proud in holding her by the hair, and persuaded myself, I might with all security res● me in the midst of her wheel, having been sheltered from the Barbarismes of Traitors, preserved from the Furies of the Sea, and to have found so large a share in the affections of so great a Princess; and now I see myself a new reduced to that condition, that Death would be the least of my miseries. How uncertain are our Thoughts! How vain our Designs! How beguiled our Hopes! and how betrayed our opinions! I imagined that this Grot, that had hid me from the cruelty of mine enemies, would have also preserved me from the cruelest blows of Destiny. I believed it had not been able to penetrate into this Cave which the Sun dares not disclose. Ah me unhappy! what Remedy shall I look for? I have found the ill, and Death hath mocked me with an appearance of Recovery. I am like those Flies, which burn themselves in that fire, which they believed would have cherished them. But to whom profits it me to complain, since 'tis in the power of this hand to release me from all the molestations of the world? That woman is too much miserable that hath no other means to ease her of her misery, but her tears. But I have a Courage to die when I will, and that envies not the constancy of those breasts, that being of a less frail Sex, are judged therefore the more generous. But whither doth my grief transport my tongue, and my reason make me wander? For the present, I ought not, nor can I die: For being the Duke of Filena's, I should not relinquish his Commands. I ought to depend upon his will, and to hear myself his Resolutions. Others reports for the most part, are either interested or careless. In the affairs of Love, the circumstances give, and take away life: When thou shalt say, (O Duke of Filena) thou wilt not be mine; When thou shalt refuse that Sacrifice thou hast of my heart, than I can dispose of myself according to my pleasure. At the present my thought could not be innocent, if it should violate thy right. If thou wilt have Dianea, I will not oppose thee. For I should love thee but a little, if for my proper Interest I should deprive thee of so grateful a thing. Nevertheless, I know, that I offend thee, making that faith dubious, which I have always served with so much loyalty.  
Thus complaining without attending the Return of the Duchess, as if she hated those Rooms, fearing no longer Prodirto, nor the Encounters of Fortune, she went forth of the Cave, with the greatest anxiety that could be, taking that path which to her judgement might lead her whither her heart designed her. By the way she devised how she should appear to the Duke of Filena. She prepared words premeditated, conceits which were by herself now accused as too humble, and now rejected as overrigorous. She contrived, if she found herself despised, how she should amplify her sorrows. And meditated if accepted of, by what ways she should conceal her joy.  
Whilst she agitated by these Passions, rendered the Incommodities of her travail more supportable, Diaspe, who had resolved to abandon the world, and to live amidst solitudes without the disturbance of those thoughts which make us abhor life, condemning his opinion for base, had hired a great Bark to transport him to Crect. He thought with himself; The Affections to one's Country and Father to exceed all others. All sorrows are comforted under that Heaven where all Influences are Prosperity. He was scarce descried a good way from the Port, but that he told the Mariners they should presently receive him. Constancy may have residency in all things but the minds of Lovers. He feigned some business that he had, and commanded them to pass away the time till his return. He walked towards the Grott, carried, I believe, more by his heart than his feet. Arrived there, finding the entrance open, he boldly entered, imagining, peradventure, to find Dianea in some error.  
Being come into the Court, he saw that Knight whom he had left for dead resting himself upon a stone. He resolved no more to be deceived by the infidelity of her that introduced others into those Chambers, into the which he had persuaded himself that he only was admitted. But having left him on the earth breathless, and seeing him at the present in a very good state of health, he imagined them phantasms of sleep, or delusions of Enchantments. He undeceived himself with his sword, assailing him, who, after the manner of Anteus, arose more vigorous by his falls. Offences and defences were at the same time. Blows were given and returned equally; victory was independent, neither did the Palm bow towards either of them. The fight continued about an hour, maintained more by their anger than strengths. Each of them blamed the edge of his sword, and the weakness of his Arm that strooke not down and vanquished his enemy. They were both of them all soiled with blood, and it seemed death would have the Triumph of the fight, and of their lives. They could not any longer keep them on their feet, when after a long wrestling they fell down both together, leaving life in his hands who should die the last. Their wounds truly were not mortal, but those also being again opened which they had received before, they were so weakened by the much blood they lost, that there appeared no sign that might make them thought alive.  
At this very instant Dianea, who had taken truce from her sorrow, descended into the Cave to make Floridea acquainted with their both concerning miseries. At first sight she grew astonished, seeing two Carcases to be the Object of her eyes. She presently received it as a Reincounter of that wretchedness which Fortune prepared for her. Suspicious, and doubtful, willing to be satisfied who they were that were come to solemnize (by dying) their Funerals in those retiring places; she saw Diaspe's face, that all overspread with paleness, it seemed they besought her aid, his tongue being unable to implore it; she schreeked not out, because her heart oppressed by a violent passion, hindered her voice, so that she could not speak; she ran to embrace him, as if she would bury him in herself, believing that she could not give a Sepulchre more worthy to a Carkasle so much beloved. As soon as she perceived there was yet some hope of life, with impatiency she tore what came next to her hands to bind up his wounds, having yet before with a Jasper stone, which she had in a Ring, staunched his blood.  
Whiles Dianea held him in her arms, he being a little returned to himself, breathing out a languishing sigh, opened his eyes, which met with those of hers, whom he loved and hated at the same instant. He presently closed them again, supposing his heart attempted to deceive his sight with those phantasms; and that the strength of imagination made unpresent Objects seem visible. Whereupon with a weeping voice he said: Hast not thou (O Fortune) yet perchance satiated the cruelty of thy desires, that thou representest to me that Image that is more tormentful to me than that death which I know approacheth. Thou believest (may be) these wounds are not sufficient to kill me, without striking me with an Object so dismal; or rather, I having no part of my body but mine eyes which can be offended, thou hast tormented them with a Ghost, with a Phantasm so noyous, so detestfull.  
Dianea could return no answer to these words, but with her tears, which abundantly gushing from her eyes, made Diaspe understand he was in the arms of her, I know not whether more beloved than hated. Many times he endeavoured to have risen, but being withheld by force, he added; What pity (perfidious one) is thine, who, having murdered me alive, now wouldst lament me dead? Complain the Testimonies of thy disloyalty. O Lovers, give you credit to the doubleness of that heart that can bemoan whom it hath betrayed! Reserve these tears, Dianea, to contrive treasons against the simplicity of some body that knows thee not.  
Dianea, being unable to endure these words, which cast a shadow on her loyalty, interrupting him, answered: Dear Diaspe, if you had loved me you could not have doubted of the certainty of my faith. Suspicions are not begot but where there is little love. I neither will, nor can affect others besides you. I have but one heart which can entertain the impression of but one alone Object. Would to heaven, replied Diaspe, that I could beguile my heart to believe thee innocent. I would die a thousand times rather than see you miserable. And I answered, Dianea would encounter death so many times more not to be such. If you afford belief to my tears and oaths, credit these hands, which offer to subscribe my innocency with my blood. So having said, she took Diaspe's Dagger to strike herself. He adding strength to his weakness, with held her, and said to her: And who is this Knight? What motives hath provoked him? Or by whom is he persuaded to betray my life, and spy out these retiring places? I see him new enlivened to renew my miseries. I left him dead at the entrance of the Grott, and to day Destiny hath made me find him more stout than ever. I know not how, replied Dianea presently to give you a greater account of these Accidents than that which you may conceive of yourself. These Adventures are as strange to me as your disdain came unimagined. I beseech heaven this Knight may live, that I may recover health from that hand which wounded me.  
But these Discourses bring with them no salve for your hurts. Dianea is yours, and cannot be another's. You much trouble her when you suspect her such. But rather you injure yourself, manifesting demerits, which vex and toil the Affections of a Princess. Hereupon rising she would have led him into one of those Chambers, but he would not consent till he had seen if the Duke were in a condition likely to live. They found he was very far spent with the loss of much blood; a sign that gave them little hope of life. There were two beds, by the assistance of the Duchess, presently prepared, where they wounded were laid. Dianea attended to their Cure, being very well instructed in Chirurgery; not in that the Princesses of those times were skilful in all the Sciences, and in this in particular, as most necessary in the Palaces of Princes, who will not trust their healths to the infidelity of others hands, but because from her childhood her Genius had inclined her to it.  
Oleandro in this while, with an impetuous beating of the heart, met with the Count of Silinera, to whom he had given knowledge of his Arrival. Divers Compliments passed, which always abound in the mouths of Great men. Sitting down in a Chamber of the Palace, and dismissing his Attendants, who for the most part use to spy into the Actions of their Patrons, the Count of Salinera spoke thus: Prince Oleandro, it transfixes my soul, that the first day in which I have had the fortune to reverence you should be funeralized with things most molestfull to him who is to execute them, and with sorrow to him that commands them. But I having to talk with a Prince, who counterpoiseth all actions with reason, and treating of the reason of State, which is the soul that quickens the body public, you will receive those Offices in good part, which though they appear unpleasant are nevertheless necessary. I will not remember you of the miseries of this Kingdom, which at the present enjoys no other quiet, nor other felicity than that which an ideal, and an imaginary hope can promise us. It is known to all, and I suppose to you in particular, that being borne to command, you are obliged to observe the Customs of people, and the misfortunes of Princes more than any other. Laws are here either neglected, or abused. Justice set to sale hath rendered interessed Rewards and Punishments. The Nobility are become Tyrants over the Commonalty. The people fomentated by the Chances of Fortune, have forgot their Obedience. Honour's are dispensed at random. Desert and Virtue are suppressed by favour and riches. The power of King Vassileo in a manner is restrained, so that he is scarce the Mastor of himself. Some that have gained the chief Offices, keep his ears as it were so besieged, that he suspects not ill though he prove it. And yet he hath been advised by many, who have not feared to ruin themselves to save the Prince. This Advertisement hath been, if not too late, at least untimely; so that to apply a Remedy was to increase, not to remove the Evil. The successes in the Kingdom have constrained his Majesty to suffer the wicked, because they should not grow worse. He that for Wisdom knows neither a Superior nor equal, hath been unwilling to stir those humours, which before they can be dissolved will destroy the Body. The Death of the Count of Cythera, a young man, that by his Liberalities had won the Affections of all, have so alienated them from the King, that the most seditious now attend but for a new occasion to disguise the Impiety of their Designs.  
To our Domestic miseries, external are joined. The King of Thacia and Armenia unite their Armies to invade us; the one to revenge the death of his Brother, and the other that of a son, as if King Vassileo himself had been the Author of them. The Chance (although it was of pure Fortune) is (without reason) ascribed to his Majesty: but to those that have an intention to wage war, all Appearances become Causes. Kings, that have innumerable men and money, make that lawful which they will, and under a mantle of Justice conceal their Ambition and Cruelty. In sum, this Commotion hath put his Majesty into grave deliberations; for he shall at once be combated with enemies he knows not; and have occasion to fear his own as much as he doth the Armenians and Thracians.  
To withdraw himself from so imminent dangers, he hath procured to make friendship with Princes his Neighbours, and those farther off. Some of them he hath awakened with this universal Maxim: That the greatness of the Armenians and Thracians cannot be but with peril to them. To give way that the forces of others should exceed their own, endangers their Liberty to the discretion of an insolent; for such are Conquerors. Many he hath persuaded by the ties of blood, and others he hath put in mind of injuries received from these two Kingdoms: Some also he hath remembered of the Services he done them. In brief, he hath not omitted any occasion nor notice to gain him the hearts of those, who though they cannot aid him, at least shall do him no harm.  
In afric he hath sounded the Affections of all, and hath there found such a forwardness, that the King of Egypt, with his Cousin the new King of Morocco, have offered themselves to fall upon the Kingdom of Thracia to divert him, or take from him the occasion to invade us; knowing their State-Tenents not to maintain two wars at one time. This fell out grateful to his Majesty, because the only forces of Armenia could not daunt ours, to whom for a long continuance of years they have always yielded obedience so much the more, being under the command of a King who never had combated with other but wild Beasts.  
But this joy of King Vassileo's was mortified by notice given him that the King of Morocco dispatched Embasladours to have your Person delivered him; imagining himself whilst you lived, neither secure nor King. His injustices are so detestable to his Subjects, that they daily pray Heaven for your Return. If the present state of things did not necessitate my master to any agreement, though unjust (for the Laws of necessity are without Law; and it is allowable to do every thing rather than fall) you should have no cause to fear any, and he with as much Resolution would undertake your defence, as now it grieves him to desire your Departure. He hath committed to my charge to inform you of the state of things, and that he himself not being safe, can much less secure others. He knows that daily there are Treacheries woven against you, and knows that not long since you were dangerously wounded: He heard it with as much sorrow as can be imagined in a just Prince, constrained to support injustices.  
He entreats you therefore with the greatest privacy possible, to go hence, that he be not compelled to do wrong either to you or himself. He for fear of having it discovered, conceiving it dangerous to appoint you Vessels for your Transportation, as a Present hath sent you these Jewels, inferior to your merit, but perhaps needful in the Encounters of your new fortune. Though you were resolved to have continued here, his Majesty desires you to go, and assures you, you shall do it with safety: and will maintain that faith which he promised you, when first he knew his condition and birth. He is confident your wisdom will apprehend this Counsel, as the securest for the safety and reputation of you both. Cyprus is not worthy to possess such a Prince. You may with security promise to yourself, that these fears of War being ceased, this Kingdom shall serve you as a Sanctuary, and that King Vassileo above all others will interest himself to favour you in the regaining you your Crown. He loves Justice more than others, and cannot endure that the wicked should triumph over innocency. The rather by reason the cause is common to all, King's oughting not to suffer Usurpation of States in others, lest they find the experience of it in their own.  
Here the Count of Salinera held his peace. Whereupon Oleandro replied: I ascribe it (my Lord) to my great fortune, that the Majesty of King Vassileo so much interests himself in my Calamities. I shall not always remain unhappy, being protected by such a Prince. I will be gone because he desires it, and go willingly: Because Misfortunes ever attend me, I would not disquiet the safety of his Kingdom. I will take along with me these Jewels, which he hath pleased to honour me with, not that I have need of them, but to have daily before mine eyes Testimonies of his Magnanimity, Greatness, and my obligations. I should thank him for what he hath done, and for what he hath promised to do for me, if these Duties were not common in all tongues. So great Engagements claim a reverend Acknowledgement, which is ordinarily more expressed by silence then the tongue. The reasons you have alleged were useless to persuade me. It sufficeth that I see the Interests of the King or Kingdom to move me.  
This Discourse being finished, the Count of Salinera bade him farewell, with a resentment more lively and true than those that are practised in Courts. Oleandro complaining on the infiniteness of his miseries, prepared himself with Arnalta for their Departure. Their Habits were poor, his face he disfigured with a thousand blemishes. So Fortune knows how to jest even with Princes. They that knew how to disguise themselves so, knew not how they should have known themselves. Celardo used all means to have borne them Company, But being overcome by reasons and prayers, was enforced to move it no farther, remaining in the possession of the Palace.  
These two Princes departed before the Appearance of the Sun could discover their departure. When they came to the Sea side, they were so weary they could hardly stand. Necessity may trouble, but never can discourage worthy minds. Finding a Vessel, they went aboard it, which set sail that very night. The most noble Island of Cyprus was out of sight when they were (roused on a sudden by the swell of the Sea) assaulted by the winds, the Mariners were constrained to fall to land on a Rock, where by the help of swimming and Planks, they escaped from the water. The Country being unknown, they put themselves to walk afoot at adventure, whilst the other wearied themselves to recover the shipwrecked goods, which it seemed were spewed up by the Sea with a great fury upon those shores. After one hour and more of travailing they came to some Shepherd's Cabins, from whom they received meat and lodging the next night. These People, although they could not understand them, nor were understood, with a thousand signs of courtesy could not weary themselves with doing them honour. In minds base by birth many times are found gentleness, which great Ones either know not how to use, or will not. Morning being come, they departed by break of day, to find out some City where they might at leisure deliberate of what they should do.  
They walked till that time of the day that the body requires the natural tribute of meats. They rested them near a Fountain, and after their Repast gave themselves over to sleep, willing with a most pleasing repose to slight that fortune which only aimed to disquiet them. Whilst they lay in this fashion a Knight came upon them, for so he appeared by his Arms, and his Apparel. He cast his eyes upon Arnalta, and praising much that beauty, he fixed his look upon Oleandro. He presently knew him, though so unlike to himself. There is not any thing that can be concealed from the eyes of a Lover, His Travels, Misfortunes, Calamities had not so transformed him, that he could not be known for Oleandro by her that loved him.  
Being assured that he was the very same, she trembled, sweat, grew cold, became unmoveable. She was doubtful whether she ought first to assault him with injuries or kisses. Before she would have been content that he had been another's, so that she might have seen him: Now she rather wisheth him dead, than by the effects to discover certainly his perfidiousness, imagining with herself that he weary and satiated with the Amours of her Sister, this with him was a new Mistress. Finally, recollecting the reasons of her displeasure, unsheathing his dagger, she said: Oleandro, now is the time thou shalt pay for injuries committed against my faith and the honour of my Family. It is unreasonable that I should endure that hateful look which so many times I have found guilty. I ought not to let that man live, who with his only look can reprove me of my follies, and provoke blushes in that face he hath been able to slight. Thou (O wicked man) shalt prove what disdain in the breast of a loving woman can do. Oh God how foolish I am. How I yet love this impious man, that with this dagger, and death, know not but that I may make him happy. Would not he be fortunate if he might be freed from my indignation, and enter into a place where my hatred could not arrive. Impious and sacrilegious persons, whose hearts are replenished with all barbarismes, cannot for all that abide to look upon the Testimonies of their wickednesses. Thou shalt receive more vexation with seeing me, and hearing me aggravate thy perfidiousness, than if I killed thee a thousand times. These Arms are too worthy for the breast of a Traitor. I will not honour nor immortallize thy death with these hands, which would even raze thy name out of the book of Oblivion itself. But I know very well how to torment thee. I will kill her here, whom I doubt not but if thou lovest, thou wilt receive that punishment I wish thee.  
So saying, she drew near to Arnalta, and furiously lifting up the Dagger held it in the air, saying to herself: In what hath this unfortunate one offended me, that I should thus miserably deprive her of life? I should not be angry with her for loving him, for I also have been in the same error. Minds cannot be so compelled, that they should not desire the fruition of what seems good. And if she deserves any chastisement, what greater punishment can I give her than the company of so faithless a man, that promising her all felicity will make her miserable. He deserves punishment, and to him I should give it; whereupon turning towards Oleandro to strike him, she was again withheld with an amazement at herself. Is not this the man, she considered with herself, that hath had the loveraignty over my heart? Do not I love him, perchance, more than my soul? 'Tis true, he is unworthy to be beloved; 'tis true, he loves not me, and 'tis true, he is a Traitor: But how can my affection be assuredlier fixed than in his alienations? To love being beloved is an Obligation. I ought to affect Oleandro through Gratitude, and to comply with my heart. The affections of one beloved should be won by obsequiousness, and not steel. Cruelty is altogether an adversary to Love. If I kill him, I can never hope to enjoy him, who living may become sensible of his error, and re-affect me. And more, if I love him, I should accommodate myself to his desires. I should only love my own satisfaction if I should not affect him, but because he loved me again. The Obligation of any that loves in earnest is to be transformed into the Genius of the beloved. It is nevertheless good reason that I take from my eyes what may alienate him from my love, and molest me. She is a fool that can have the patience to endure a Rival.  
Having made these considerations, she came again to Arnalta, and again stayed her hand that was ready to strike her. If I desire (said she) the affection of Oleandro, why offend I him with killing one who is his Companion? If he truly affect her, and intends to prefer her before me, seeing her murdered by my hands, he will much more hate me. If I would enjoy the Affection of Oleandro, it is necessary that I procure it by parelling this, whom I suppose his Mistress. When in her presence he shall profess he loves me, I shall not be deceived. What pleasure would it be to me if he should love me out necessity, not having where to divert his affections? How can one rejoice in that love which cannot be cemented by a Paragon. Ah fool, that I am! presume I yet in the love of this wicked one, in this sacrilegious, in this unfaithful man. He hath deceived one sister, and the other is betrayed, or slain: And ought I to have hope on the instability of that heart that is inconstant in inconstancy itself. No, no, to retard vengeance is to render him worse. Their Errors are to be pardoned who are in a state to do better; not them to whom forgiveness serves as a fomentation to worse. This impious man therefore I sacrifice to the justice of my disdain.  
Hereupon resolved to kill him, she moved her arm and directed the dagger towards his heart, as if she meant to punish that part first, by which first she supposed herself injured. The arrival of a Knight, who having observed something of these Discourses, hindered this resolution, who just came in time to hold her hand. Blush you not (he said) to defile yourself in the blood of these, who by their habits cannot but be imagined base? Art thou of so mean a spirit, that thou wilt make war against persons that are overcome by sleep: Or throw away those arms, or truly perform things that may be worthy of those Arms? If thou knewest, answered the other, the Causes of my Anger thou wouldst applaud my resolution, and be thyself the Author of their deaths. To take these wicked ones out of the world is to do a benefit to the public. Persons so wicked may also be wickedly punished. Against those that are unarmed, replied the other, and those that are asleep, there is no reason that prevails. It is not lawful to do amiss to chastise an error. Besides, from so mean persons an injury is not received. They are not so presently onward the first as the rusticity of their Gaments figures them to you. He is a Prince, yet unworthy of such a name, and goes peradventure in these counterfeit habits to deceive some other as he hath done me. So saying, she pulled off her Helm, adding: I am not a man, as perhaps you thought me. To give a mass to my Infelicity, which must always accompany me, Nature made me a woman. I gave to this wicked one my love, my honour. Being grown weary of me, with the very same Arts which he had woven snares with, to beguile my simplicity, he betrayed the heart of a sister of mine, who, forsaking the Kingdom, and her Father, would follow him. Satiated also with this he hath either abandoned, or slain her, for I see him with another woman, and not her, whom he took with him.  
Have not I then reason to be cruel against the softness of my sex in the iniquity of this impious man. No, Infanta Ariama, said Oleandro, who being wakened at their talk, had in some part observed her Complaints, and knew her; The absent should never be condemned. Though I appear guilty, I am not for all that such. If the benignity of that Infanta, who could give me her heart, would please to listen to my words, she should see that I am not to be blamed, as the world may believe I am; you should not fix yourself in the appearance of things. Even Jove sends forth his Lightnings when the Heaven is serene, and the Sun makes a glorious show of himself sometimes when a shower falls.  
Wicked man, answered the Infanta, how skilful thou art to mascherate thy excuses! Thy perfidiousness might move me, if I had not proved the damages of thy disloyalty. Tell me, tell me, perfidious man, how thou canst colour thy flight? What canst thou say for the betraying of my sister? What moved thee to leave me with a pledge in my belly of thy unfaithfulness? Why didst thou not take me with thee instead of my sister? Fair Infanta replied Oleandro: One cannot persuade one that will not be persuaded. If I have ever deceived you, if this heart hath ever produced desires which are not proper to my faith, and my obligations, if my mind be estranged from you, even in the vanity of very dreams, I beseech Jove that he come against me with all his Lightnings; that Pluto make me subject to all the torments of his Kingdom; that the Earth may bring forth no other for me but wild beasts, brambles, and peysons; that the sea reserve for my sufferings all his Abysses, and finally, that the air, uniting all the worst influences of it, instead of affording me breath, may stifle me.  
Believe Oaths, presently replied the Infanta! He that hath an heart so impious that it can betray an Innocent, will also have that confidence to deny his treason. Wicked man, thy deceits are too sensible, which thou hast contrived to deceive me anew. But I will confound thee. I will that thy temerity shall be lost amidst thy own Answers. What hast thou done with my Sister? Why went'st thou with her? Why hast thou cozened her? Infanta (answered Oleandro) I know not what thing Deceit is. The Princess your Sister, betraying herself, hath deceived me, and that very same day just that she made me part from Tesset, I by an accident parted from her.  
Here he related point by point the counterfeit Letter, his departure, the company of an unknown Knight, how he came to know her, the words that passed, the wound the Princess gave herself, and divers other particulars: Which being heard with a disdainful laughter of the Infanta, she said to him: Oleandro, dreams and fables find not belief in the mind of a Lover, who hardly can credit her eyes. Are you not satisfied to have tormented my innocency with your works, that anew you would with words entice my soul from me? See how perfidious, and how cruel thou art. Thou proposest things to me so far distant from being and possibility, that I can never enforce my heart to believe them. How? Thou receive a Letter and not distinguish the Characters! A Messenger wakened you and you observed him not. A Knight accompanied you, and you knew him not. The wounds, the thiefs and thy other imaginations raise in me that effect which the fragours of the waves of Nilus make, which deafen. Thou art ingrateful, thou art a Traitor, thou art a wicked man, and therefore no wonder thou shouldst be a Liar. Besides, who is this that goes along with you a Partaker of your misfortunes? What confidence, what engagement, what means rendered thee a Companion so interessed, that she hath a boldness, as it were, to repose herself in thy bosom, and now, assured of thy protection, hath given herself over a prey to sleep?  
This, replied Oleandro, is my Sister, and I would that you should understand it from her very mouth. So speaking, he awakened Arnalta, saying to her: Come Sister and reverence this Lady, whom my heart hath elected for its Queen. Is perhaps this, replied Arnalta, the Infanta of Numidia? Understanding it was the same, she ran to kiss her hands. The Infanta drew them back to her, saying, Excuse me, if Love and Jealousy take from me those actions of Courtesy, which are owing to your merit. To day I should rejoice to be deceived, because I might beguile my fear. I have business of some consequence with this, whom you affirm to be your brother. I can neither answer, nor live if I see not the end of this. Turning herself then to Oleandro, she said to him: I cannot deny but that thy Lies carry a face of truth: But this time they shall not find credit; I will yield to your assertion, that this is your Sister; But how will you prove that performed which you have fabled of me? Innocency, readily replied Oleandro, hath not need of many proofs. Behold the Letter which the Princess Arelida, your Sister, made use of to deceive me. Take notice of your own Characters so well imitated, that I believe you yourself would remain in doubt that your hand had fashioned them unknown to your eyes and heart. Then said the Infanta, Is Oleandro faithful? Then is he mine. O Gods, what thanks can I ever render you, having restored me my Lover on better conditions than I could desire or imagine?  
She ran after to embrace him: neither the presence of Arnalta, nor that of the other Knight could contain her in those tendernesses which are practised only among Lovers. Their kisses were centuplicated. Their Arms which as it were striven with their hearts in expressing Affection, were not weary with Embracing, as much as might be they endeavoured to unite their bodies.  
The heart not being able for joy to contain itself in the breast, issued out of it in words kisses and tears. In sum, there was not a sense in them which rejoiced not. These first violences of Affection being over-passed, they excused themselves, he with the Knight, and she with Arnalta; they resolved presently to departed thence, not to be over-taken by the night. The Knight told them, that not fare off there was an house where they need not desire welcome. They took their way towards it. Olsandro entreated the Infanta to make the tediousness and troubles of their journey, pleasant with some Relation, he being desirous of the news that fell out in the Court after his departure with the Princess. The Infanta with an eagerness encountering this occasion, thus began her Story.   

The History of the Infanta Ariama.  
IT was two hours' day when the Damsels of the Princess my Sister perceived, that she was missing. More by their tears then words they acquainted my father with it. At the notice of it, he became speechless. He afterwards sent without delay to the Ports, to learn whither she took her voyage, dispatching every way soldiers on Horseback to stay her. He imagined she was gone with you, the Guards of the Golden gate reporting your Departure with one Companion, who by the Description they made could not but be my sister. When I knew it, I was willing to die for grief, I said and did things which would have provoked sense of Pity, even in things insensible. My Father hearing no tidings of her could not be comforted, and removed some Months without sufferring himself to be seen in public.  
In that time the Prince his Brother returned from war, maintained always at great charges abroad, because being cruel of nature, and a Lover of innovation, my Father very willingly saw him not in the Kingdom. He was scarce come, but he desired leave to departed for Cyprus, by Fame inflamed with love to the Princess Dianea, who for Beauty was esteemed a new Venus. My Father whom these Amours pleased not for Reasons of State, would not consent to him: for many times their Offspring engage Parents to great Matters, and 'tis small security to a Prince that many may pretend to the Government. My Uncle showed himself not to care for this denial, especially because a few days before the Nuptials of Dianea with the King of Armenia's youngest Son were there published, He fixed his mind and thought on new objects. He esteemed the Duchess of Corana worthy his affections. There he applied himself with such a Passion, that he made all the Court admire him, seeing a Prince a Rival to Mars, become suddenly a Tributary to Cupid. Many times an alteration into the Extremes is Easy. My Father neither allowed of, nor withstood these Amours, feigning himself blind in things perspicuous to all. The Duchess, (although Ambition, and a desire to be beloved be connaturals to women) seemed strange altogether and coy at it.  
She had formerly engaged her heart to Doarte the Count of Nasace, a Knight, who by the gentleness of his behaviour, and the valour of his sword, had gained himself the Affections of all. She truly had never applied her mind thither, if my interest had not induced her. The seeing me so near to render account to Nature of the pleasures I had stole from my marriage, made her fall into a Resolution far from her opinion and genius. We two only could not conceal, nor mature the birth with safety. There was need of many shadows to darken so many eyes. The Count was made acquainted with my secrets; the Duchess veiling the Necessity under an appearance of trust. He that was  with good Nature and kindness, offered himself to serve me in all that which was known to be able to exercise his devotion, and make trial of his heart.  
These Motives enforced the Duchess to slight the Affections of the Prince. He that took more fire out of these strangenesses, left not any means unattempted to win her: Entreaties, Messengers, Letters and Presents came daily from him. She neither with refusing, nor accepting all, endeavoured to conquer obstination with obstination. He continually besieged our lodgings, and the Duchess was many times constrained to talk to him with affection in despite of her will, to keep him at distance from us. He often times having required my assistance, I evermore with greater earnestness dissuaded him from it. I made him see how much he deceived himself, that pretended love from her that loved not, or from her that would not love. That there was no force that had power to bow our affections: The divinity of our mind not to be liable to violence; The heart of a Woman to be moved like the Primum Mobile, only by itself, with a Motion contrary to others. The Merit of that man to be undervalved which deserving to be beloved without love, loves without being beloved. That Prayers and Submissions beget not love, but foment Ambition in Women, who disdain the poorness of that spirit which cannot despise, being despised. They account him unworthy of affection, that cannot resent injuries.  
These notwithstanding were considerations which made him despair, but eased him not of his love. Constant in his Resolutions he tried all ways. To this end he employed all the Damsels of the Court, which he daily by entreaties and gifts won him. They were all engaged to serve him, gained by so many kindnesses, that they durst not contradict him. The hope of the Princess Favour prevails much more in them, (and the greater part of servants are so) than the duty of their place and faith. In particular, he had obtained the good will of Therasia, of blood less than ordinary, a Damsel belonging to the Duchess: but one that had gained by the Merits of a singular beauty, and with an assiduous applying herself to her Lady's service that place. This in such a wise possessed the mind of the Duchess, that she held her worthy to know my secrets, neglecting all others that waited on me. She would first have believed the heavens corruptible, than this heart, to which without doubt she had given more trust than she did to her own.  
To this the Prince applied his mind; foreseeing that to tempt her those ways, whereby he prevailed upon others, would be in vain, he won her with a new stratagem. With so much cunning he feigned himself in love with her, that she so easily believed him in it, that he needed not enforce himself farther to make her understand it. The Title of fair, that was attributed by all, made her grow proud, and presage she should cast her Lady out of the Prince's affection, more especially because she knew she was engaged in another love, and would not, nor could not please him. The Prince one day espying her in the Garden, when she was alone, took hold of the oceasion, and thus began to speak to her.  
Fair Lady, I should not deserve your affection by showing myself inconstant. But I should be neither a Man, nor Prince, if I knew not how to slight, where I am despised. Your Beauty were ordinary if it had not the power to subject to you the glories of others. I have loved the Duchess, I confess it, nor can I deny it, you may have reason to suspect me false in my second loves, when you have found me inconstant in my first. Now I so excessively affect you, that I believe I should lose myself, imagining me to be without you. Argue then what the ardour of that heart must be which knew how to love even one that did not deserve love. He that can burn in Frost, what will he do in fire? You have not reason to refuse me. I am a Prince, and brother to the King. Although these hands sway not the Sceptre, they deserve it: and 'tis the glory of virtue to be undervalved by Fortune. You cannot aspire to an higher greatness: nor your beauty receive a larger Adoration, then that of an heart that knows itself superior to all things. The Duchess' Refusals ought not to provoke yours. The Sun is not in fault, though some blaspheme and despise it, much less doth it lose the splendour of its Beams, because Bats and Owlets abhor the light of it. The Gods peradventure will punish some Crime of hers, by rendering her a Contemner of the favours of Destiny. They corrupt the judgements of those, for whom they prepare punishment. I should say more, if the Divinity of your Beauties could receive a Commotion from words. It sufficeth, that you know I love you. A soul as fair as your face knows as well to correspond to affection, as it to make itself beloved. I add no more, because I desire you may love my Affection, not my Voice; Who entreats either demerits or Distrusts. But your gentleness secures me both from the one and the other.  
Here the Prince my Uncle stopped, fixing his eyes on her, who had loved him before then, if she had not accused so ambitious an Affection of rashness, or if he before had discovered to her the least sign of his. Therasia, imitating the usual Customs of women, to  their Desires with Dissimulation, altering her countenance with a feigned blush, conterfeiting a mixture of joy and sorrow, after a short silence, thus answered:  
Prince, I cannot deny but that I believe you love me: For notwithstanding that there are not in me conditions to deserve your Affection, I have for all that an ambition to wish it. Impossibility hath not a difficulty for those that earnestly covet it. I can much less say I love you not, since in my countenance you may read the Affections of my heart. It is our duty to love our Princes; and it is a stupidity not to correspond to those that love us. But for all that, that I infinitely love you, I cannot but put you in mind of those things in the which the affection I bear you, obligeth me, although they may prejudice me. You are Prince, and if the Laws of desert were not regulated by those of Fortune should be King. To submit then to Nuptials so inferior to your birth, I know not what it may be thought on by the world, or how endured by yourself. As I have Moderation to content myself with my own Fortune, I should not so have patience for the Precipices of your forsaking me. If you love me Prince, do not with exalting me expose me more to the Lightnings. It serves for a glory to deserve Entreaties from him, who should not know how to beseech meriting by the slightest signs from him to be obeyed. Now I will believe the adulations of Lovers true, since my beauties, though something less than ordinary, have been privileged by your election and commendation. But may it please your Highness to know, I have no will, that shall not be subordinate to your Commands. And that I fear not infelicity, so it may be accompanied by your desires, and by your appointments. Therasia sealed up her answer with a deep curtsy. The Prince receiving heat from these repulses that invited him, after some Reply he promised her marriage, and expressed a great earnestness to get out of her the causes which had occasioned the Duchess refusals. Therasia, willing to gain herself an higher place in the Prince's affection, made use of infidelity to authenticate her faith; She recounted to him the Amours of the Duchess with the Count of Nasaos, with all those particulars that might render true her design; Yet she made no mention of me, persuaded, I know not, whether by fear or by affection. The Prince, joyful to have accomplished his ends, with divers gifts (among others a Jewel of pearl, in the which all the Gods were wrought) dismissed her. My Uncle persuaded himself he could not easier beguile the heart of Therasia than by interposing the duties to her. He thought she could take no suspicion of treachery whilst she had the God's witnesses.  
She returned in that time to our Lodgings, when I was half dead, oppressed by the pains of Childbirth. When I had remained about an hour in the hands of death, I was delivered of a daughter, which increased my afflictions. It was so like you, that to deny it yours were to strive against the judgement of all eyes. I had scarce time to look on it but it was taken from me, the Duchess fearing the crying of it would discover my errors. I had no power to oppose myself, for being overcome by weakness, I had no force left me but in lamentation. It was took away by a Gentleman of the Court, believing it a child of one of my Damsels. The Count not being willing, in a business of such consequence, to trust to the faith of any other. My Father and the Physicians were deceived in the knowledge of my disease, whereupon there were not any that suspected. In a few days I mended, filling the Court with comfort that sighed for my recovery.  
In the mean while the Prince my Uncle visiting daily the retire of Therasia, though he yet counterfeited with the Duchess, put me into some fear. But on the other side he had the praises which Therasia bestowed upon the merits of the Prince, though she had formerly been wont to blame his insolency. The signs of her mind to perceive her cold in her service to her Lady, and full of disdain and pride to other Ladies of the Court confirmed me. All motives that enforced me to observe her when she was alone in her Chamber. One day I perceived that she talked to a Picture all beset with Jewels; Her words were all of affection, although they arrived not all distinctly to my ear, and the Effigies of the Picture was suddenly known by me to be the Princes my Uncles.  
Upon that, with a violence forcing the doors, I came upon her before she had time to lay by the Picture. Injuries accompanied the hastinesses of my disdain, so much the more furious by how much the more reasonable. I snatched it out of her hand with speeches as severe as could proceed from a mouth which invenomed the words to render them more offensive. Her excuses were abundant, attended on by so many tears, that in my doubts they made me more consused. For she insisted always with invocating all the Deities of heaven, that she had not told any thing of me. She said, she had done amiss not to do amiss. That she could not help her Lady without injuring herself. Being elected by the Prince for his Spouse, she could notbut obey him. Divers things she said, and if I would have permitted her had spoke of more. I found not a greater alteration in my life. To be silent with hope that others will be so, is difficult and dangerous. Therasia offended by my rebukes, and always under the shadow of my anger, was not to be contained within her duty. I could not repose trust in her whom I had injured, and in whose heart the favours of the Duchess could find no fidelity. What chastisement ought not I to fear from the King my Father, since (though mine were concealed) I had given assistance and assent to the Amours of the Duchess.  
My Father would not that the Riches of the Duchess should foment the spirits of any to aspire to the disturbance of the Kingdom. He had many times expressed himself to me, he would feign penetrate into the thought of the Duchess, to know whither her heart aimed. He knew her of a Family that had ever made the King's jealous. Her Father for this purpose, under the species of honour, was maintained out of the Kingdom, and mine accounted not himself safe till he had heard news of his death. These considerations in such wise possessed my mind, that a great part of the night was spent before I came out of Therasia's Chamber. In this while the Duchess came in, and with a great deal of alteration related to me, that the Prince, meeting with the Count, that came to visit her, intending to assault him, was slain by him, with many wounds in his breast, not giving him leave to use any imaginable defence, for fear others should stir in his assistance.  
The Prince informed by Therasia of the Count's walks, had waited many times to murder him. I having been weak retarded this desire in him: for keeping my bed, the Duchess with other Ladies, were necessitated to attend me. But I being recovered he resolved to effect it, and it had succeeded if he had made use of his hands before his tongue. The Count had hardly suffered the Prince to call him Traitor, but knowing him by his voice he stuck his Iron in his breast. My Uncle would have said I am slain, but the effects preceded his words, for he said nothing but I am. The Count came presently to acquaint the Duchess with this, and persuaded her to make ready to be gone, whilst he would expect her until day at the shore in one of the strongest Vessels, not having any thing to be his hindrance, the Ports and the Guards of the Sea being committed to his custody.  
This new Accident I perfected in my thoughts to make me maddish I gave myself over to the aggravation of my miseries with so much senss, that I imagined I felt all my past evils. Then (said I) shall I evermore be tyrannised over by Fortune? Then to satiate the appetites of my sense, shall I every day be unhappy? Then those many favours that I have received from chance, in being a Princess of such a Kingdom, have done nothing but molest me! Duchess, I will die; with great reason it was said, that our felicity remains in our hands, since by killing ourselves we may make ourselves happy. And what hope can longer entertain me in life? A Lover, to whom I have given the liberty of my heart, abandons me. A Sister, whom I loved equal to myself, hath betrayed me. A Father, in the tenderness of whose affections I can have no desire but it will obtain its end, hath been wronged by me in his reputation and honour; and shall I live! Who counsels me to it loves me not; who deserves to be tormented then may live. All things are determined with life; and who lives not cannot at all languish.  
The Duchess, although in a worse condition than I, did not leave to comfort me. She told me despair was the last of evils, and that to do so was undecent in all, but most  in them that should have greater hearts than misfortunes; who will triumph over Fortune (she said) must let it run how it please. Those ways are too base for a Princess that are even practised by Slaves. The greatness of your spirit should not submit to such ordinary Paragons, which consists in sustaining ill encounters, not in flying them; show the bravery of your mind in living in despite of Chance, A Lover hath forsaken you, because he was unworthy of you; You will find a thousand others of them that will sigh for the favour of your looks; you ought to comfort yourself, thanking the Gods that an immodest sister hath got from you an unfaithful Lover. She could not do you a greater service than to remove far from you those dangers which accompany a heart that deceives. Besides, you could not have wished her a greater punishment than the fellowship of so perfidious a servant. If you have trangressed against the satisfactions of your Father, the fault is Loves, which easily renders all errors excusable. Will you then after you have offended him in opinion (for Reputation, Honour, and Fame are for all things) offend him also in sense, deprive him of a great part of himself, by being your own murderer? You lament that you have offended him in an imaginary thing, & will you redouble the injury, making him mad by killing yourself? To go for some time far from hence will be the best, now too when we have an honourable invitation; We may retire ourselves to your Aunt in Egypt, where with greater security we may make our defences. To trust to an angered Prince, though he be a Father, is not a safe determination.  
She added so many other reasons, and so many entreaties, that I, rather overcome than persuaded, made ready for a departure. Therasia hearing of the Prince's death, and my resolution, seeing that to despair was the only remedy for her miseries, stuck herself two or three times into the breast with a Stiletto, without any body being able to prevent her. The Duchess, that knew not the cause, had become distracted, but that I, briefly informing her, of what was past, made her cast aside that pity, which truly so unhappy a chance deserved. Opening Therasias Chamber door, I retired into my Lodgings, where taking those Jewels which were of least weight and greatest price, arming me to counterfeit my Sex, and the Duchess being apparelled like a Page, we went to the Seaside; For there was nothing that hindered us.  
There finding the Count, that stayed for us, we went aboard the best Galley of the Kingdom, and doubling the Slaves we put the Oars to the water: whiles it seemed that the sea with an un-before-seene tranquillity emulated the heaven. We directed our voyage in the Atlanticks towards Egypt to the Queen my Aunt. Our desire failed us, for being willing to shun a fleet of two hundred sail, we went far into the sea, so that being surprised by a Tempest, it was not possible for us to reach Land. Being tossed a fortnight by the waves and winds, we were always in danger to be cast away. But the goodness of the Vessel, and the strength of the Rowers brought us at last to shore in an Island unknown, even to the Mariners themselves. We were in that state we could not have continued longer, not only all things necessary for life, but also for a voyage being spent. Our haste to departed allowed us not time to make that provision, which the Navigation of a sea inexorable to all things required.  
Being disbarqued in the Island, whilst the Rowers made provision of Wood and Water, we walked a little forward to seek out lodging. The incommodities of our voyage made us desire to find an house to repose us in without trouble and fear. In ascending a little hill we discovered some buildings, which, made in form of a Palace, served also for a Fortress. We presently went thitherward, where we were received with very great kindness. Two Ladies of a venerable Age came to meet us, and with so many welcomes offered us Lodging, that we wanted words to express so great Obligations. They were waited on by many Damsels, one of the which supposing me a man, began to look on me with so much affection, that I took no ordinary pleasure at it, telling the Count and Duchess of it that they might hold their tongues; I applied myself to her with so much love, that I persuaded myself she would grow mad. But afterwards I repent me of it, remembering me that I was not in the condition to cure her malady. Though we endeavoured to understand the quality and the name of the Island, we could get no answer to purpose.  
Supper time being come, my Favourite the Damsel found opportunity to say to me: Fair Knight, these wicked women lay snares for your lives. Within a few hours you will either be slain, or made a Prisoner. I that take compassion on the beauty of your face, and the tenderness of your years, have thought it expedient with danger to myself to release you from yours. They intent to set before you meats mingled with Opium to seize on you with the more security. But being retired to your appointed Lodgings, make use of this Preservative, which shall preserve you from their treacheries. So saying, she gave me a little pot full of a certain Antidote against sleepy poisons; Afterwards added, Since I adventure my life to do you this favour, I desire no other reward but your love, which I would enjoy flying with you hence from places so impious. I then grown extremely fearful promised her more than I could perform; protesting an Obligation to her, not to be circumscribed by Ages. The meat came up, of which I tasted so sparingly, that I even did nothing but talk. The Tables being removed our Quarters were assigned us. We feigning ourselves weary presently bad good-night to those that waited on us, and I revealed to the Count and Duchess the Damsels secret; we took the Preservative with so much fear of being surprised, that every little noise made us believe it was Soldiers that should assault us. All the soporiferous poisons of the world would not then have had the power to have made us sleep in that fear.  
Half the night being past the Damsel came to call us, we followed her with all possible secrecy, who through a private gate led us forth of the Palace. There mounting upon four horses which were provided by the Damsel for that purpose, we began our journey, riding apace: We would have taken the way to the sea, but our Guide permitted us not, saying, that were to encounter dangers instead of flying them: For all those shores were preyed upon by the owners of that house, so impious and so cruel, that they rejoiced not in their Booties unless they were defiled with blood. The remnant of that night, and almost all the day after, we prosecuted our journey, perpetually molested by that Damsel with so much earnestness as if she had perceived Enemies following us at hand.  
I being no longer able to endure the weariness of riding, the night approaching, would stay in a Village; the rather because the people there told us the way was dangerous in the night time, especially being frequented by wild beasts and thiefs. Having rested me there a little, I entreated the Damsel with much vehemency to recount to us the cruelty of that house, which (her gentleness assisting) we had avoided. She after such a blush (as if her modesty came forth with it, or rather as if with the purple of her face she meant to cover the blackness of her heart) thus answered:  
Sirs, If to excuse errors under the Pretext of love was not usual to all, especially women; I should call that tongue rash, which should assume the boldness to to mascherate the Dotages of the mind. But acknowledging myself a Lover, I deserve all pardon. Love is pictured blind, because he makes blind: And the falls of a blind body are to be borne withal, and compassionated. I hardly fastened mine eyes on your Countenance (fair Knight) but they felt the Chastisement for their rashness; it being not lawful, without prejudice to the heart to penetrate into the Paradise of your Beauty. Becoming a Lover, and knowing the unequalness of my Descent, I despaired of the end. I betook me to Deceit, which triumphs many times over all things. To persuade your departure, I feigned those things I said, the which contain no other truth but that of my flames.  
If you have ever had experience of the violences of affection, I hope you may well bear with me. But if you have never felt the damages of it, believe me, until your own experience shall bring you a certainty of it, I am persuaded that this in your good disposition, will not be imputed as a fault to me; because every thing is lawful to those that love. Besides, if there be any due, it is your beauty that deserveth punishment, which hath been able to compel the simplicity of my heart to deceit.  
I was moved at one time by these words to Compassion and Anger. It vexed me to have departed upon so uncivil terms from that house, where there was nothing but Honours prepared for me. But this Damsels so very extreme affection, that it merited pardon, pacified me: whereupon I thus answered her:  
Lady, Whosoever hath been a Lover can do no other but compassionate you. I that have been in love, know how to excuse you: For the first thing that pardons Lovers, is the intellect, and reason. It much afflicts me, that to beguile us you have deceived yourself, in bestowing your Affections on a Person who can exchange nothing with you but affection. I would to heaven I were in as good a Condition to correspond with you, as I am willing to pity you. I am a Woman as you are, but more unhappy than you, because I have not loved so as you. If I had inclined my thought to love a woman, I had escaped the Assaults of Fortune. Comfort yourself; for you may receive profit, if not delight from your affection.  
The Damsel recovered not at these words; for sorrow having deprived her of her senses, rendered her insensible even to sorrow itself. After a while coming to herself, she feigned she was well satisfied: whereupon I left her in bed, whilst wanting rest, I desired with a little Repose to ease me after these passed troubles. At our awaking in the Morning, we found that the Damsel was gone. Being hopeless at the impossibility of her Affections, she will have recourse to some new Resolution, of whom hitherto I have had no tidings. We blaming the Deceits of so foolish a Wench went towards the Sea, to find out our Galley. After much Travails we were aflaulted by four Thiefs. One of them suddenly seized on the Duchess, carrying her so swiftly up some certain Crages of the Mountains, that it was impossible for me to accompany her with my sight. The others came and assaulted us, not thinking to find much resistance in us, they being more in number. The Count unable to endure that his eyes should assist to the loss of his heart, with three blows slew two of them, and wounded the third, in such manner, that he could no longer defend himself. Without delay, he went in search of his soul, stolen away by that thief from him. I gave the wounded one his life, on condition he would guide me to the Duchess. He promised me; but being mounted on Horseback, I having no time to hinder him, precipitously betook himself to flight.  
Remaining alone in some Passion, because the Night already had covered the Heaven with extreme Darkness, I tired my voice in reiterating the names of the Duchess and Count The Caves moved to pity at my Callings, to case me of labour, replied in many places, or rather the Air so many times struck wearied with hearing me, to make me hold my peace, iterated often times what I said. I had the chance to meet with some Shepherds, who with courtesies not frequently practised by great ones, made me envy their Genius, if not their Fortune. Four days I continued among them with hope to hear News of the Count and Duchess. One morning I departed from those Cottages, with an intent to go to the Sea, and so to be transported into Egypt. I easily miss the way taught me by the Shepherds, and have therefore wandered many days up and down these Fields in danger of my life. Fortunate Errors, happy dangers, since they have guided me to you, who are the End, whither my Troubles and my Travails do aspire.  
Thus said, the Infanta Ariama, when they discovered the Palace where they meant to sty. It was situated in a Plain, and ravished the eyes of Passengers, no less by the Majesty than the beauty of it. The Architecture was Doric, and the outsides of fine Marble. It was encompassed round by an infinite number of Cypresse-trees, set in so good order, and so proportionately distant one from another, that looked upon either directly or traversely, they could not beiscerned in the least irregular. They of the Palace scarce perceived they were come, but two Damsels in mourning habit, brought them a welcome from the Lady of the House. They easily disposed themselves to receive it, when necessity could not afford them other lodging, neither more near, nor more commodious. With a large expression they thanked the Gallantry of that Lady, who was willing to oblige them before she knew them, and followed the Damsels unto the gates of the Court.  
In their Entrance, at the first sight they were terrified: In the midst of it was placed a Statue of Revenge. Yet was it not believed a Statue but by those that could offend it without being offended. It was figured in the likeness of an armed Woman, with a flame of fire upon her Helmet. In her right hand she held a Dagger, and at her feet a Lion. It spoke not, withheld peradventure by Scorn that kept her words in; or rather bindred by biting a finger of her left hand. On the sides of the Hall all the most infelicious Loves of the world were delineated. There was seen Pyramus and Thisbe, pierced with the same sword, breathe out their souls; and the feigned blood which they shed, had the virtue to beget true tears. Leander and Hero, the one destroyed by the waters of the Sea, and the other by those of her eyes, in such wise deceived Oleandro and his Companions, as if only then by chance they had been destinated to death. There was also Medea, through Jason's inconstancy, grown so cruel to kill her Children, having first, enforced by love, slain her brother. The poor Ariadne complained on a Rock, tearing her hair, and beating her breast. Her Lamentations arrived not to the ears of the beholders, carried fare away by the winds, or dispersed by the Waves: or rather by long exclaiming become hoarse, she had not the strength left to make herself heard.  
In brief, a thousand were the Objects which entertained in suspense the strangers, when entreated by the Damsels, they ascended the stairs. At the top of which, they were met by a Lady, who for being all attired in black, could not be imagined any thing but night, with a black veil she held her eyes covered, for being desirous to be thought night, she would not permit those two Suns to be seen, which she carried in her eyes. After she had received and answered their salutation, she said: I am sorry, O Sirs, you are come to funerallize yourselves in the miseries of this House. The Necessity that constrains you to stay here, pleads itself my Excuse. I wish only I knew your first Fortunes, that I might serve you conformably to the Merit of your presence.  
Here taking Ariama and Arnalta by the hand, she led them into other Chambers, requesting from them the Information of the State of those Knights of their condition, and of their births. Although the Infanta Ariama concealed herself she was well known by the Lady of the House, who leaving her to rest herself, went from her to command preparations for Supper. The time being come, they were called to it. The entertainment was handsome, but not stately. The strangers eat little, or weary of travailing, or sadded by the continual lamentation of that Lady, who seasoned the meats with her tears.  
When Supper was ended, at a sign she gave, the Damsels brought forth some glass Bottles, with a certain Drink in them, which she said. would enlighten the heart. All of them tasted of them. Oleandro in particular drank more of it then the others, adding; That those sadnesses had much need of Preservatives. Afterwards turning to the Lady of the house, he said, Madam, the Gods have made contraries to be to all things. There are Antidotes, and the poisons: Bees have stings, and honey; whereupon there is not any thing in the world, but by the reason of Contraries hath a Remedy. Such I hope your Evil may be. If the Affection of an heart, and the strength of a sword can prevail with you, to lay aside this sorrow; be merry, for I offer myself to serve you. That Countenance which is a Heaven of Beauty, deserveth not a perpetual night. Tears should not be permitted to those eyes, which can make happy with their looks. Here Oleandro was silet, and the Lady thus answered:  
Knight, I would to Heaven I had never spoke. From the tongue and heart, my infelicities have had Original. But now there is no longer need to conceal them Infanta Ariama, and you Prince Oleandro, you are dead, having drunk poison in the last Bottle. I grieve I was not able to sacrifice you with a swod to Revenge. I rejoice, notwithstanding that Fortune hath delivered you together into my hands. I can no longer suppose myself unhappy, since I have had this part of felicity, to see I am revenged before I die. You shall not departed triumphant from the miseries of the Princess Arelida. I am the very same, who lived till now, only to kill you. Oleandro, although he began to feel the effects of the drink, provoked by the outrages, which are begot in a breast, offended more for the harms of others, than his own Danger, said to her:  
Guilty woman, Then because I would not condescend to the dishonest of your Desires, hast thou condemned me to death? Then wilt thou take away my life, because I have preserved thy Reputation and Honour. From so malign a mind could not proceed but execrable Effects. Who is impudent is cruel: and who betrays their honesty to please their sense, will much less pardon the innocence of those that will not be blemished with uncleanenesses. Did it not satisfy thee (perfidious one) to have with thy deceits, contrived Miseries against my happiness, that also thou hast intended to heap thy Barbarismes on this body, a miserable Remaines of the Inconstancies of Fortune. Perfidious, wicked, Sacrilegious, what Reward, what Hope, what Madness, makes thee covetous of my blood; the more undeserving the Furies of thy wickedness, by reason it hath no faults which can convince it of realty? But if this life ought to be sacrificed to the satisfactions of thy Scorn, why do you not pardon those who in the very Phantasms of night have not thought to offend you. In what hath your Sister trespassed, and mine, with this poor Knight, who is designed to die, only because he is my Companion. Poor Oleandro! so surrounded with unhappinesses, that even the guiltless suffer with me. My Miseries are contagious, since they trench on those that keep me company. The Gods be praised, that hereafter my life cannot infelicitate any. People of Morocco here your hopes determine: your Prince is compelled to die; and so much the more discontented, by reason he falls by the hand of a woman, and she immodest.  
The Knight, that until now was unknown, at these words cried out; Oh Gods! What allow you me to see in the last day of my life! I should say I died happily, dying in the presence of my Prince, if he than might have continued living. What Marvailes, what Portents doth Destiny represent me? 'Tis true, the sight of a Prince so much beloved, deserved not to be gained without the loss of my life. But wherefore fortune hast thou been willing to funerallize to me these sweetnesses, I seeing him die before I can sufficiently embrace him. So saying, he made himself known to Oleandro to be Felide, the Count of Olano his Subject; he that with imminent hazard to his own life, had delivered him from the Treacheries of those who had usurped his Crown.  
This interview redoubled their afflictions, so that in despite of the bravery of their hearts, the tears ran from their eyes: which would not defraud Death of sorrows owed to so worthy Personages. Oleandro's virtue remaining hitherto invincible against all Accidents, had not sufferance against the force of Destiny, which to render death more noisome to him, multiplied those Objects that were able to disquiet him. There was nothing heard but sighs, weep & sobs. Not an Object to be looked on, but presented sorrow. All was horror, and every body carried fear and death in their Countenances. There was not a face but it was spread with a paleness, so mortal, that it augmented Affliction in the eyes of all. Oleandro at length in despite of grief, said to the Count;  
Friend, it pierces my soul, that it was Fortune's Will to communicate to you my miseries, becaused see you too much interessed in them through your Affection to me. The Gods reward you for it. I am so unhappy that I cannot as much as suffer for you. The Horrors of Death increase upon me, seeing I must die, without being able to recompense the attestations of your Faith. If the Laws of Friendship and Obligation preserve their authority even among Spirits, I hope you shall not have occasion to repent yourself for having loved me.  
He would have added more, but perceiving the Infanta began to show signs of the venomnesse of the poison, he ran to embrace her, enstrengthening himself to receive that soul which by the right of Love he supposed belonged to him. He was scarce come to her, when he saw, she had lost her senses, become cold and  as a stone, by the violence of the poison. No longer retaining patience to resist the sense of such a loss, he began to cry out in such a manner, as if his soul remained only in his Voice. Peradventure by those Exclamations he persuaded himself he should the easilies move the Fates to pity: or rather requiring a present Remedy to the Malignity of the ill that could not permit of delay, it was imagined he exalted his voice the looner to make the Gods know the Necessity of their succour. Perceiving that Vows, Prayers, and Lamentations, brought nothing but an augmentation to his sorrow, and that the last gasp of his life was afflicted by the Death of her, without whom he should be unwilling to live, in some part to disburden his passion, he said: Most unhappy Oleandro! who hast undergone Death a thousand times before thou couldst die. Ariama, I follow thee; I follow thee Ariama. It is not just that thou shouldst go alone among the Ghosts, without thy beloved Oleandro for thy gaide. I will take order that the sword shall prevent the malignity of the Poison: but it is not fitting that those Arms which were prepared for thy Defence should offend me. But I should not at least deprive thy Exequys of my Tears. Thou wouldst be too unhappy, dying without being mourned for by him that loves thee.  
His Tongue could no longer obey his Heart, when the Drink exercising its force, prevailed upon all his senses. Yet with his Eyes he celebrated his last Duties to her, who found Death in nothing so painful, as by seeing him near to overtake her. He continually held his eyes open, as if he would not permit that her Funerals should be solemnised without Lights. Lastly, they both shown Signs that they were arrived to that point, which by Nature is made common to all.  
This Spectacle had hardly given notice to the Damsels of this Tragedy, but they were heard to strike the Air with an infinity of shrieks. With sighs and Lamentations they contended to pay Tribute to the Death of their Lady. They knew not how to Honour so unexpected Exequys, but with sudden Commotions of the heart. It seemed that with an affectionate Emulation they agreed by turns to shower forth Tears. Many fearing they might by others be exceeded in weeping, tore their Hairs. Others, accusing their hearts of an over-hardnesse at so miserable a chance, struck their Breasts, as if they meant to break them; peradventure, believing their Hands had more power than their Eyes. They had given no intermission to these so pitiful, and so unprofitable duties to the Dead, if the presence of some Knights, (who at these so sorrowful outcries ran in) had not interrupted their Lamentations. These having received Information of what was befallen, drew near to exercise that Piety to the Carcases, that was not allowed them to practice with the living.  
The End of the Second Book.    

DIANEA.  
The Third Book.  
AT the beginning of the new year some strange signs were seen in Cyprus, which made them suspect, if not fear, the approaching evil. A blazing star, which was discovered in heaven an hour before the Sun, astonished the eyes, and the Judgements of all. The simpler sort believed it a Prodigy that foretold the ruin of the Kingdom. The Religious called it a tongue of the Gods, with which they advertised men to forsake their Crimes. The Soldiers said it could foretell nothing but blood and slaughter. The Courtiers which flatter the Genius of Princes even in things impossible, affirmed it declared the death of the Enemies to the Crown. The impious and malignant figuring for truth what they desired, believed it portended the destruction of the Prince, and mutation of the Empire.  
King Vassileo, that knew it was unfit altogether to slight these Characters of heaven, looked upon it with some fear, although with his tongue he expressed contrary opinions of it He very well knew that the fear of remote dangers in a Prince serves as a fomentation to the wicked. He said it was a condense vapour of the earth, upon which the Sun had employed the utmost of his force. That he gloried that with new lights the heaven applanded the felicity of his State: and that if it came to foretell any thing of Grandeur he could not deny it, seeing Dianeas Nuptials grew near. Thus he endeavoured to deceive the minds of others, whilst his own heart presaged the misfortunes which hung over his Kingdom. The sudden falling of his Statue without being touched increased his terror. It remained nevertheless entire, though being placed on high, it was imagined it could not have fall'n without being broken into a thousand pieces. There were many heads of dead people found in his Garden, it is not to be guessed whence they should be brought. The Statue of the first King of Cyprus was seen to sweat and tremble, as if it meant to departed from the place where it stood.  
King Vassileo affrighted by these sad Omens, although he feigned to dissemble it, with an incessant diligence notwithstanding he endeavoured to procure all means of defence for his Kingdom. He surveyed all the Fortifications, added new soldiers to increase their strength, received strangers into pay, recalled all that were banished under the penalty of losing a certain contribution; and lastly omitted not any diligence to avoid those dangers which the Arms of his enemies threatened him with. All this verily was done with much ease, because the public Treasury was grown infinitely rich by the peace of many years. And now to spend it was esteemed more than necessary, since money cannot be laid forth more worthily than for the defence of the Country, and liberty.  
To the Duke of Cerine he committed his sea-forces, a man of a known fidelity, and of no ordinary valour, of Customs so severe, and of so proud a behaviour, that he had rendered himself odious to the Court. The King loved him, either because he knew he was obliged to him by trials of his experience, or through some unknown violence of his Genius. All the ill offices of the Baron of Salandra, who enjoyed a prime place in the affections of his Majesty, were not sufficient to retard him from that honour. The Land-Militia recerved command from the Duke of Filena So the King would, although all the Council shown some dislike of it; not for his valour, which was above comparison, but because they imagined that lost to their pretensions, which was bestowed upon the merits of others. The wisdom of his Majesty who would not confide so much in those subjects in whom he knew the defects of ambition, and inexperience fixed upon him, whose alliance he loved no less than his virtue. He delayed the Nuptials he had designed for Dianea until suspicions and jealousies had rendered him master of himself. He would not add pretences to those that hated him, and he would by his Daughter keep alive the affections of those that loved him, out of hope only to attain her in marriage.  
Ere he suffered him to departed to his Charge, after Commissions which contained an authority absolute above all the Kingdom, he said to him: Duke, we have committed the Kingdom of Cyprus to the valour of your sword, ascertained to see in your virtue our defence, and your glory. To attempt to speak any thing to inanimate, you were to do injury to my election, and your merit. Know only that our interests are common, & that yours shall be the Palms of victory, and the spoils of the enemy. The Duke of Filena bowed himself in a most humble reverence, preparing to answer, which was not consented to by the King, whilst others of the Council coming in they fell into a Consultation of War.  
All things necessary being provided the Duke went into the field; being unwilling that the City should be troubled with Soldiers, or that they should be effeminated by the ease of the City. He quartered his Army into all the Ports of the Island the most exposed to invasion, reserving only a great number of it to aid those that should be distressed, when an enemy should attempt to land. He used all diligence to secure the weakest places, with so much follicitude, as if he were the most obliged to obey; when darkness dismissed the Pioners and Soldiers from work, he (under the species of walking) observed all the Sentinels, and took notice of all advantages that might secure him from the surprises of his enemies. One Evening, being remote from his Tent, whilst he was viewing the shore, he perceived himself called upon by a voice not well distinguished by him. Suddenly turning himself, suspecting a spectre, he discovered at his feet (by the favour of the light of the moon, which peradventure more than usual was prodigal of her beams, as inquisitive after those wonders) the Princess of Nigrepont, whom he many times had bemoaned as dead.  
Are you (said the Duke) the Princess of Nigrepont my Lady, or some aereal spirit that would deceive me under a counterfeit likeness? I am neither a spirit, nor your Lady, replied Floridea, who although the unfortunate Princess of Nigrepont, and abandoned by all assistances of Fortune, have been unwilling to die without seeing you. The Duke without the least delay ran with open Arms to embrace her: But she putting him back, said: Viralto (for so the Duke of Filena was called) I ought not to receive these Civilities before I have assurance you are mine. You are the designed Husband for Dianea, and successor to the Crown of Cyprus, as Fame gives forth. If this be true I will not oppose your desires. I should love you but a little, if for my simple satisfaction I should attempt to retard your greatness. From you I beseech no more but that I may not be deceived. If Destiny will not you shall be mine, I will accommodate my mind to serve you, as I have formerly applied my heart to love you.  
Neither Cyprus, nor Dianea (replied the Duke) have beauties, or greatnesses that can alienate me from myself. I was borne yours, and so I choose to die. I beseech you (O Princess) mortify not the content that I receive by seeing you restored to the world, and to the estimation of all, since ever in my heart and thought I have preserved you alive. A Lover should not give credit to Fame, which is but an Echo of the most vulgar untruths. There is no accident that can stir the constancy of that mind which can easier be broken than bowed.  
If this be true (replied Floridea) let us fly this Heaven which nourisheth so malignant influences. I cannot believe you mine whilst I see you so near those Objects which (though they cannot conquer your constancy) torment me nevertheless with a jealousy. To interpose a delay will but be to augment my diffidence, or to accuse you of inconstancy. Viralto added; Princess, I shall be ready to serve you when I shall have command over my own will. King Vassileo hath committed these Armies to my trust. To abandon them without an occasion would cast upon me a note of infamy, and name of a Traitor. You shall ever have sovereignty over all things that depend on me. For the present my word is given, and I have obliged myself. If the fear I had of infamy withheld me not, I should have first preferred that supplication. Know therefore that I have no greater desire, and that I would eager endeavour (my Reputation safe) to break all delays. Concerning your fears, they shall be secured by the testimony of your own eyes, which shall be witnesses of all my Actions. Floridea changed colour, and after a short silence answered: You deceive me, and doubly deceive me, since you deny to do so. Love is a pretence that overcomes all things. Excuses become Reasons when they are attired under the mantle of Affection. But how can I imagine you mine when you confess yourself obliged to others? If that engagement be prevalent, whoever hath bound you to it may as well oblige you not to love me. What can you answer me to this? But that Obligation is not valuable, because affecting me, all your employments have dependency upon my will, so that it was not in your power to engage yourself to the service of another, being mine. But pretences are not wanting to justify your departure; your Kingdom of Nigrepont (for so it ought to be called) groans for your absence; your own Interests ought to be preferred to those of others. A Princess disinheritated implores your aid; this by the Obligation of Knighthood you should not refuse me. Besides, what doth King Vassileo lose by your departure? The enemy is far off, and peradventure but imaginary. The Militia hath other Chieftains, and near the Metropolis, who may every moment receive assistance from his Majesty. Our danger contrary wise would be great: The King hath designed you the Husband to Dianea; if you refuse behold the hatred of a Prince, which is always mortal. King's institute Laws of their wills, and will what they will. He that attempts to oppose their desires, may also endeavour to fix the motion of the Heavens. Much more how will his Daughter endure you slighting her, whom she affects more than herself? What hindrances soever you excuse yourself on, you very well know how to remove. An impossibility hath not prescription in the mind of Grandees which prosecutes the execution of that which falls not under reason. You will be enforced to accept of her, and I to die perceiving myself deceived. But I very well foresee my misery. That affection is weak which suffers itself to be overcome by ambition, and a conceit of what others may judge of it. That (in Princes) is united with honour which meets with their satisfaction. He loves not that is too scrupulous. You care not for me, and perhaps upon my ruins you have raised your hopes. You are willing to abide in Cyprus to have occasion to be compelled to betray me.  
Here Floridea ended, giving way to her tears, which fell in such abundance that a lesser virtue than that of Viralto had suffered itself to be overcome. He not withstanding enforced himself to persuade her, saying; You make me (Princess) suspicious of your affection whilst you seem careless of my honour. And what will you find to love in me, when by all tongues you shall hear me reported infamous? Is it possible for you so to humble your mind as to look upon me, endure me, and love me for a Traitor? If you do this to assure my loyalty, you have no reason for it, having received continually proofs of my fidelity. How can you satisfy yourself that I should affect you, if I know not how to love my Prince? You would have good occasion to suspect inconstancy in my heart, seeing me treacherous to him who hath trusted me with a Kingdom? Who deceives his Prince that is able by force to punish his falseness, may much more easily abuse the innocency of a maid, who hath nothing but tears to repulse her injuries. He that loves without reason makes no estimation of his honour: Contrariwise, he that hath placed his affections on a Princess ought (above others) to be zealous of his Reputation, by reason honour is more necessary in a Prince than others. What avails it me that King Vassileo loseth nothing, if I by my departure endanger my all? Whoever pretends that love serves as a shield against all things, hath perhaps an intention to counterfeit himself enamoured only to endeavour unworthy things. Excuse me (Princess) whilst my Reputation is treated of, I ought not love you, nor obey you, you shall perceive in the residue of all my undertake, that neither the authority of the King, nor all the force of the world shall have power to oblige me to any other affection but yours. When I am free from his Majestles employments I will be yours. Exercise your experimented gentleness of your affections in loving me for this once in excusing me.  
These reasons did not at all appease the passions of Floridea, who rather casting herself at the Duke's feet aggravated the perpetuity of her miseries, making use of all those Arts affection could administer. She said: Obstinate Fortune, that dost impoverish me in conquests, and seasonest the felicities with so much bitterness, that thou daily compelest me to desire to be more unhappy. To see you and behold you so near me was my highest desire, now that possession and sight becomes my greater torment. Cruel One, is it possible, is it possible that these prayers should not persuade you, these sighs move you, that these tears should not mollify you? Unfortunate Florsdea! unable to prevail; no, not with weeping! She said more, but was constrained to silence the Duke's Guard approaching, who brought him Orders from his Majesty to draw up to the Port of Cethina with the Army to receive Dorcene King of the Thracians, who as a Friend came to King Vassileo. He was astonished at this news, knowing the perfidiousness of that Nation; wherefore making the Princess to retire into a secure place, who forbore not her tears and lamentations, he applied himself to the ordering of the Militia to make a pompous show of the Forces of the Kingdom, and to be ready for defence if the Thracians should attempt any novelty.  
This while Diaspe reposing between the Arms of Dianea, in a short time recovered his health. There is not a more profitable medicine for Lovers, than the presence of the beloved Object. He resolved to departed thence with Prodirto, who was also cured; Dianea being called thence by her Father against the arrival of the Thracian. One morning betimes, ere the Sun could look upon their Action, they issued out of the Grott, with an intention to come to the Court at the same time as the King of Thrace. Diaspe could not think of his Arrival without the oppression of his heart. His memory represented to him those unhappy objects which had formerly reduced him near to desperation. He knew the Thracians impious in their actions and name; and King Vassileo too easy to believe all things. To divert himself from these thoughts, he beseeched the Duke to disclose to him his birth, and to relate some part of his adventures to him; what fortune had brought him into that Kingdom, and what accident had guided him into those Recesses, which he imagined concealed from the eyes of heaven itself.  
I have (replied Prodirto) so obscure a name, and am of so mean a birth, that it will not concern you to know, and I blush to relate. My Genius inclining to Arms, made me inquisitive after the greatest Wars in the World, I have been one in them with little benefit to myself, although with much danger. All Victories were referred to the Commanders in chief, and the valour of a poor Soldier, that hazards his life a thousand times, can hardly arrive to such a stipend as will serve to maintain life with. I have endeavoured to merit the favour of the chief, with exposing myself to all dangers, but it succeeded not. Grown void of hope I have many times been ready to despair. If Valour hath not the protection of favour or Gold, it wants the mark of desert. Promised rewards serve to no other end but to promote Envy. My most flourishing years being spent, despairing to attain an higher preferment, I assayed with a friend of mine to steal away the Princess of Colchos. The Enterprise succeeded fortunately. Figuring (with this Prize) great Conquests in my imagination. I embarked for the Baleares Islands, where I promised myself a secure Retreat. My ill Fortune, that accompanied me in the same Vessel, made me cast ashore by a tempest at sea in this Island, where the Princess was stolen from me by my friend, with whom I had trusted her. Whilst with curiosity I sought after their flight, I saw her hid among these Rocks, where you first challenged me to the combat. The Fall I then had cast me into so great a swoon, that (coming to myself) if my blood had not assured me of it, I should have thought myself deceived by adreame. I found myself in so ill a condition (thanks to your Valour) that if I had not been succoured by the Piety of some Mariners, I had been without any hope of my life. As soon as my wounds allowed me any motion, I fixed my mind upon finding the Princess, without whom my poverty gave me not leisure to live in quiet. I came to the foot of the Mountain, where finding that Entrance, I presently conceited that there my traitorous Friend concealed his Theft. I was scarce entered into the Court, but you pressing on me, that befell me which you know. This in substance is the whole of my life. I beseech your generousness, that hath so much respected the recovery of my health, to discover to me to whose hands I am obliged for my life. They cannot surely but be royal ones, because only noble minds know how to oblige enemies (though I am not such) with benefits.  

The History of Diaspe and his Brother.  
I (replied Diaspe) am Prince of Crect, though in this Kingdom not known but for a Knight belonging to King Vassileo. Three years since I returned from Foreign Wars to the Court to comfort the age of my Father, who bemoaned my absence. Thither three Palestine Merchants chanced to come with three Pictures of the most beautiful Princesses of this Age. They were the Princess of Nigrepont, her of Fea●ia, & she of Cyprus. Come to Court, they presented them (in gift) to my mother, who caused them to be exposed to the sight of all. They were loaden with the commendations of the beholders, and the envy of all the women. Particularly Dianea could not be beheld but with a prejudice to the Fairest. All hearts at that sight rebelled from the Vassalage to any other beauty. It provoked flames even in the most cold breasts, in whom Age had consumed heat.  
My Brother and I at the first sight gave up our Souls to her. We stood unremoved, contemplating it with that anxiety as Northern Nations gaze upon the Sun after a most long night. We continued divers days to sacrifice to it our eyes, and sighs; as if that Picture had been the Idol of our Pleasures. We remained always fixed looking upon it; but when we were interrupted by others, who came to feed their eyes upon those marvellous Beauties, which though but counterfeit had the power to torment minds. I regan to look upon my brother with some disdain, not being able to endure Rivals in a Picture. He who had a Genius not to be subjected to fear, finding an opportunity took down the Picture of Dianea to carry it to his Lodgings. I came accidentally just upon the time as he delivered it to one of his. I grew suddenly changed, and (inflamed by Love) injured him in so high a manner that he was enforced to lay hand on his sword. I that perceived so much boldness in a younger brother, my anger preventing all discourse, tried my utmost force to have slain him. He defended himself with so great courage, that I was sometimes in danger to be killed.  
The noise and confusion carried the voices to the King and Queen, who both running forth at this uproar, made us cast away our Arms, and embrace, although neither of us laid aside his anger. The occasion of this contention being understood, the King reprehended me with so severe a fashion, that I had not the confidence to look him on the face. Dianea's Picture remained in my mother's hands, who professed she would never part with it to any body.  
I passed away some days with so much impatiency, that I thought myself unable to live them. I should have flown to have seen the Original of that Picture which afflicted my memory, if the fear of my Father, the season contrary, and the enmity between the Crowns had not been interposed to my desires. The same anxiety tortured the heart of my brother, who as the younger could much less withstand amorous assaults which work with the greater violence where they find more heat. I avoided the occasion of meeting him, because my eyes could not endure him. brethren's enmities are ever mortal. He, fomented by the Adulation of those that served him, fling forth some words of slighting, which agmented my disdain. My Father's Age, which inclined to the Grave, nevertheless permitted me not that I should precipitate my hopes. And although I percived my mother ready to provoke him, either for seeing me disobedient, or that it is a property of that Sex to love the worse, I cared not for it. Finally, women are women; as prone to hatreds as they are to Love.  
My brother's servants were frustrated of hopes, looking on me as Successor to the Crown. There is none that dares thunder against heaven which can retort thunder. They certified me from time to time of all his actions, whereupon he could hardly find secrecy in his own thoughts. By these I was one morning advertized that he with Dianea's Picture was departed from Crete. I followed him with an evil intent, conceiting that my mother had given it him, or that he had stolen it. Two miles out of the City I overtook him. He having eyes impatient of not beholding that Object which felicitated his heart, made a Favourite of his to carry the Picture. I presently accused him of sauciness, whilst in despite of one whom he should reverence as Heir to the Kingdom he bore from him that Jewel. I added other words of slighting him and disdain; calling him many times unworthy to fix a look on that Picture, which ought not to be viewed by a rash man, by one disobedient to his Father, his Prince, and his Brother.  
I stayed for no answer, but stretched forth my hand to lay hold on the Picture. He who carried it, who was the Count of Sfour, intending by that act to merit superlativelie the affection of my Brother, would not let me take it. I drew my sword, and with two blows made him see that I knew how to make myself obeyed more by my hands than my tongue. My brother, who saw the Count wounded, and the Picture lost, said to me: Prince, If you would that I should reverence you, tyrannize not so over me. To offend him so without cause who serves me, and to deprive me of that which I justly possessed, are things that would take away patience even from Marbles. He that aims to deprive me of that Picture must first take my life. Having spoke this, he drew his sword and strooke at me, whilst I did the same. Our blows were so thick, and accompanied with so much anger, that those that followed us had not the courage to interpose themselves. At last, perceiving us both wounded, and that my intention was that my brother's life should satisfy for the blood I shed, they drew their Swords, and threw themselves between us, with danger to some of them, who were recompensed with some wounds.  
My brother being retired, whilst I would not be pacified, I saw him fall down in a swoone, I know not whether for the pain of his wounds, or the loss of the Picture. I supposing him dead had not the heart to undergo the justice of my Father, severe to all, but inexorable against those of his house; I withdrew myself into a Castle nigh to the Sea, where, being cured of my hurts, I spent all my hours in Contemplation of that Object, which I used to call the Compendium of my Felicities. All my ends, all my desires, all my hopes determined in those lines, and those colours. One day by craft being tempted forth of the Castle, the Picture was stolen from my eyes, not heart. Not being able to appease my mind for grief at such a loss, I unknown embarked me for Cyprus. The time of the year was contrary, but gaining the Owner of one with a good sum of Gold, I promised myself a secure voyage, confident in the goodness of the Vessel.  
I landed in Cyprus: And would have no other company but that of my thoughts. After much Travel I stayed at a Fountain, which they call the amorous Fountain: And there being surprised by night, I took up my rest. My thoughts had scarce given place to sleep, but I was seized upon by divers phantasms. Me thought I saw Dianea assaulted by two most fierce Dragons, and that the one strove with the other which should drink her blood. I heard her reprove me of cowardice in this danger, that I did not aid her, whom I affected more than myself. She herself implored with redoubled entreaties my assistance. She said: Prince of Crete, why are you come to visit me if you will not secure me? Doth not then my presence merit the protection of your sword? Have you passed the sea only to see me die? A shadow of my beauties have had the power to bow your heart, and shall not Dianea herself persuade you to defend her? Friend, I am yours, afford me your help. The Gods have made you arrive in this Kingdom for my defence, it being but reason that you should come to guard her who expects it from you, At this I awakened, oppressed with so much sorrow, that I know not whether the verity of the success could have been able to have tormented me more.  
I afterwards fell asleep again for awhile, but being again awakened by the same Illusions, I began to complain of my Fortune, which disquieted me even in the Reposes of Night. I imagined myself the worst of all Creatures; for Beasts at least by night have a Truce from the Miseries of day. Amidst these thoughts I heard some voices, which arrived at my ears, no otherwise then a Whisper. I approached nearer, and heard the name of Dianea redoubled, being unable to understand the rest, I resolved to chastise those that durst profane that name. A curiosity to understand the end, stayed my hand. I presently then heard that Dianea was to come suddenly to the Fountain; for so it was appointed: with other words which gave me not leave to conceive the End, because I had not understood the beginning.  
I felt the greatest alteration in the world, in hearing that within a while I should see her, who had made me abandon our Kingdom, and Country. I received it as a most auspicious Omen, that she whom I adored should come to meet me at my arrival in Cyprus. I counted the Moment's, and many times blamed the Sun, that not hastening his course, retarded my joys.  
Aurora now was come forth, and the Birds deafened the Air with their Songs, when Dianea made a Scene of her beauties to my eyes. I pardoned the slowness of the Suns Approach, for it was reason he should give place to her. I blamed the boldness of Art that durst endeavour with pencils to emulate so fair a Work, that surpassed all Ideas. The Image of the Picture was like the true, as a shadow the Light. I had time to behold her at my pleasure. And it was perchance to bless my eyes which could never be wearied with looking on her. Two Moors followed her, I know not whether to make more shine forth the splendour of her Beauty, or that they had assumed that Colour to approach the nearer to her eyes. As soon as she came, she put her hands into those waters, which ran with a strife to kiss them. And it seemed, that grown Ambitious they swelled more than usual to touch her face, as if they desired to be changed into that lively colour, which impurpled the Cheeks of Dianea.  
In this while four Assassins' appear, which ran suddenly to Dianea; I that was unable to see her injured, whom I accounted part of myself, came against them with so much Courage, that with two blows three lost their lives. At the presence of an Object which I esteemed Divine, I could not but show a valour miraculous. The fourth attempted his safety by flight, but in vain, for I quickly overtaking him, immediately killed him, although Dianea cried out, that I should let him live; She would know the original of these treasons, who had plotted them, who had any hand in them, that they might receive punishment accordingly: Of all which hitherto she had not received the least knowledge. I would needs kiss her hand, beseeching her to pardon me, if the desire to see her avenged had not allowed me to grant life to that Murderer; for which there was much reason, for I being come to do Sacrifice to her Beauties, I could not but at the least offer up the lives of those so unmannerly people; she thanked me with a Garb so  with gentleness, that every word seemed a Dart which transfixed my soul.  
She solicitously enquired my name, in which I did not satisfy her, adding; That I was not to be known, until I had some merit to render me worthy to be known. That I had passed the Sea to no other end, but to serve her, enamoured by Fame, which I had found infinitely inferior to truth. With such Discourses I waited on her to the Palace, which is even that which stands adjoining to the Cave. There I received most signal Honours; and this success being published in the Court, King Vassileo used me with a demonstration of so much affection, that I envied not the highest.  
He would have added, how being transported with the favours of the Princess, he assumed the confidence to reveal his affection, and how meeting there with a correspondency, he attempted to attain her for his wife; But he broke off his Relation, being interrupted with the Acclamations of the soldiery that attended the King of the Thracians. He was met in a splendid pomp by the Duke of Filena. The Soldiers were placed in a decent posture, Squadrons of Horse and Foot so interwoven in so delightful an order, that the Thracian could not satisfy himself in beholding them. He was accompanied but only by an hundred of his Thracian youth of the noblest birth. Their Apparel was wondrous rich. The Chains and Jewels they wore exceeded Estimation. Yet the strangeness of their Habit was more admirable than the costliness of it.  
He upon a Courser all covered with Velvet, made an excellent show of his dexterity. He took pleasure to make that Horse curvet, as if he were also ambitious to make himself obeyed even by Beasts. He submitted to the Bridle with so much readiness, that it well appeared his Genius instructed him, that he was not to be handled by Grandees, but with his Obedience. Though Horses know not Adulation, this seemed that with his motion, and neighings, he intended no other but to flatter him. The Thracian had the Duke of Eilena on his left hand, with whom he discoursed of Military Armies. Each other of his Court was attended on by a great Field-Officer. And in this state they approached Arsinoe. At the Gates he was waited for by all the Council; And come to the Palace, King Vassileo met him without the Gates of the great Hall. The Welcomes and Compliments were redoubled on both sides, with so high an expression of affection, as if nature had obliged them to love one another. They both sat them down under a cloth of State, which covered two most rich Chairs. Vassileo took the right hand, though he feigned himself willing to have resigned it to Dorcone.  
Here those keeping silence, that were come to be present at this first Audience, The Thracian in his own Language said: That he was come in person to confirm that peace which had ever been preserved inviolate by his Predecessors: That Accidents never had the power to alter that disposition which had always rendered his heart obliged to love King Vassileo as a Father. That the Reports that he had raised men against the Kingdom of Cyprus had extremely afflicted him; so that his Affection could not suffer him, that the security of that Kingdom should grow jealous at his preparations for war: That he had built a Fleet to make show of his power, not to usurp upon the States of others, or disturb his friends. He spoke long upon this matter, and with so much eagerness, that it was impossible to conceive whether those Words were the Daughters of Truth, or of Dissimulation.  
King Vassileo answered, that he ascribed to his greatest Fortune, in seeing himself honoured by the visit of such a King, that it grieved him he was not young, that he might have prevented him: but yet that this was an Adjunct of Glory to the Thracian, that he would yield to one who was inferior to him in merit, and that he would oblige without a hope of correspondency. That he thanked him for the trouble he had took, and the peace confirmed, he having not greater desire in his so declining years then to enjoy quietness. He plied him with so many expressions of Affection, that he enforced the Thracian to an humiliation.  
Rising, they were led to the Princess Lodgings, who hearing of it, came to receive them. The Thracian stood still, fixing his eyes upon the Face of Dianea, with such an Alteration, that it was easily observed by all. Dorcone first bowing to her, said; Fair Princess, it is a greater felicity to be borne slaves in Cyprus, to enjoy the sight of such a Beauty, than a King in Thracia. I that have brought peace to this Kingdom, cannot vouchsafe it to my heart, which will ever be assaulted by so divine Rarities. I beseech you disdain not that I should love you; that I might express my ambition to serve a Princess, who to enrich the world it was necessary she should receive Trophies from all the Beauties of Heaven.  
Dianea, that with a discontented mind heard of the Arrival of the Thracian, not only for being ravished from the Embracements of Diaspe, but also for the hatred she bore that Nation, could not but with a disdain afford her ear to these words: Nevertheless, with that dissimulation which is borne in the mouths of great Personages, She answered: She besought him to moderate those commendations, that he might not put himself into a danger to undertake the Defence of an unjust Thing, that in her there was no desers that might move the Affection of a King, in whom Nature and Fortune were met to render him superior to the greatest.  
Amidst such Compliments Dorcone parted from Dianea, leaving nevertheless his soul in pawn for the usury of the Delight of his eyes.  
King Vassileo would wait on him down stairs, although the Thracian by all means possible refused it. They were on the last steps ready to part, when they were both stayed by a noise of Arms, which made them both suspicious of Treason. Dorcone saying to King Vassileo: Friend, are we secure of our Lives? King Vassileo made no reply; but with a great deal of danger to his own person, he quieted the Tumult, and passing through the crowd, went where it received original.  
Diaspe, who had met the Thracian, was resolved to follow, accompanying him to the Court. In this while Celardo incited by report of the coming of so great a Prince, was also arrived there to see those meetings, which seldom happen, and also to satisfy the curiosity of a Knight, who some days before was become his Guest. He was presently taken notice of by Diaspe, who remembering his ancient Contempts, and imagining him come into that place, (in a Rivalship) for the love he bore Dianea; unable to contain himself, he said: Rash man! Hast thou yet the Confidence to approach him whom thou hast so often offended? If the Majesty of King Vassileo deserved not all Reverence, you should soon find, I know well how to chastise the fond folly of those that depart from their Duty. Celardo not accustomed to receive Injuries, answered him, with advancing his hand to strike him on the face, without delay unsheathing his sword. Diaspe avoiding the box on the Ear, drew likewise his forth. They that were near them, were not slow to take Arms, crying out they should cease that Tumult. The Soldiers that were far off, supposing themselves betrayed by the Thracians, began to deal blows with so great an insolency, that though King Vassileo was a great way off, it was an inconvenience of consequence for him to go thither.  
His Majesty all this while holding Dorcone by the hand, made every one draw bacl, and received a distinct Relation of the occasion of this business. Understanding Diaspe was the Author, he drew near to him, and with a countenance inflamed with anger, said: Diaspe, That honour that was done you in my Palace, merited not that I should receive so ill a recompense. If I bore not in my mind how much you have done for the Crown, your head should pay for the displeasure you have done me. But now content yourself to departed hence without delay, that I may not have occasion to punish your disobedience, having in an high manner pardoned your Rashness.  
Diaspe replied not, for King Vassileo turning to Dorcone, who was going away, afforded him not leisure to answer. He retired to his Lodgings, which was a Palace suitable to his birth and the liberality of the King whom he served. Many of the Barons, and the principal of the Court came to condole with him his ill fortune, who having performed so many services to the King, his Daughter, and Kingdom, received the reward of Banishment for his pains. But that yet he ought something to dispense with the King's Anger, who knew not otherwise how to secure the diffidences of the Thracian, but with a severity that exceeded his nature. That these first motions-being over, he would without doubt be restored to his former respect.  
Diaspe answered, he had formerly learned the Customs of Courts and Princes: That he complained not of King Vassileo, who followed but the example of others, that they recompensed great benefits with as great ingratitudes, and that therefore one day he hoped he should reprove him of a resolution so precipitate. That he would be no more seen in Cyprus, but greater, or an equal to King Vassileo. Afterwards, being licenced by them, he wrote to the King, and Duchess of Belprato. Leaving these Letters with full directions, with two Squires only he departed to embark himself. Finding a Vessel in the Harbour he went aboard, promising great matters to the Rowers if within a few days they arrived at Crect.  
Whilst the Vessel driven forward by the Waves, & the Rowers flew upon the sea, he fixed in the constancy of his thoughts, knew not what to do but bemoan his misery. He repent his departure without leave from his Lady the Princess, having left her in a time of so much danger without attending for her Commands; whereon he thus reasoned with himself.  
How is it possible that this heart should be moved with any affections but those of love? Can then the Command of King Vassileo prevail more than my Duty to my Obligations? Shall Fear then win upon this mind which never yet knew what it was? Unhappy that I am! since all things conspire to my wretchedness. Dianea, what imaginations wilt thou have of thy Astidamo, who parted without bidding thee farewell? What Arguments wilt thou find to consolate thy passion? Amidst these thoughts he betook himself to rest, designing to himself a speedy return, with such an Army that King Vassileo should repent himself for having offended him, and whereby he should securely accomplish his marriage with Dianea.  
In the interim the Letters were presented by a Squire to King Vassileo. He read them with a great alteration, whereof these were the Contents.  
To the Majesty of Vassileo, King of Cyprus, Astidamo Prince of Crete.  
IT grieves me that the ingratitudes I have foundin your Kingdom compel me to remember them unwillingly: One who had saved your life deserved not an infamous Exile for using his sword in his own defence. I shall not live if I do not guard myself, nor must I do so without displeasing you. But past things admit not of advise: Neither pretend I to excuse myself. Yet assure yourself, that I am one that with my Arms will repay the injuries of my Superiors, and I cast away my counterfeit name of Diaspe, that I may have no remembrance that I have served you.  
These Letters in the Council of State occasioned a great Commotion, whereupon Ambassadors were made choice of, that they might carry King Vassileo's Reasons into Crete. That he was not engaged to know those that would not be known. That the Majesty of a King ought to be reverenced by all, and much rather in the presence of another King. The danger into which all were run in that Tumult, that they scarce took notice of, or spared the life of their natural Prince. Those were attended on by a different effect, which the Squire privately presented to the Duchess of Belprato. Diaspe would not (changed to Astidamo) writ to the Princess, foreseeing the inconveniences that might arise thence, if they should happen to be discovered. He writ to the Duchess.  
Friend,  
I am necessitated to departed upon a Command which admits not of a name; The cause will be known to you: For it fell out in public. I go hence into Crete to return armed; not willing to be any more subjected to injuries. The sorrow that I have of parting without seeing you shall be an instigation to me to hasten my return. I beseech you to preserve me alive in that state of Grace wherein Fortune and Love established me. Astidamo is undisguised. I trust not too much to this Letter, both because honour, and the King's Command hastens me, and because I will not recommend all my thoughts to Fortune.  
The Prince of Crete.  
In this while Celardo having withdrawn himself (persuaded so to do by the other Knight) out of danger, he returned to his house so confused, and so offended at his own unhappiness, that it was in vain to comfort him. He would suddenly leave Cyprus not accounting himself secure from the hatred of his Brother. He was accompanied by that Knight: And so they embarked in a Vessel of war which intended a voyage to Egypt. While their sails filled with a favourable southwind carried the Ship so swiftly that it beguiled sight, that Knight entreated Celardo to relate the Original of the Conflict he had at the Court with that Knight whom he heard him call Diaspe.   

The History of Celardo.  
CElardo answered, I know not who Diaspe is. I know only that the Knight you spoke of, is my brother by blood, though my Enemy by his Actions. We are both of us Sons to the King of Crete, though he for being the eldest hath attained the name of Prince, and next succession to the Crown. But of this I care not to complain of Fortune, because she works blindly, and knows not how to favour desert. Becoming both enamoured of the Picture of Dianea we fell to blows; Anger easily reigning between brother's unequal. To withdraw me from his fury, and not to add afflictions to the declining age of my Father, I resolved for some time on a departure from Crete. My Mother, that had not patience to look on my departure, accompanied me with so many tears, that from them I took an unhappy presage. She bestowed upon me the Picture of Dianea which she had kept by her by my Father's command. My brother being certified of this by those who by betraying me hoped to merit his favour, and pursuing me with many Attendants, by force bereft me of the Picture, and had done so of my life also, if I, not basely defending myself, had not given occasion to many to interpose themselves to their own danger.  
My Brother, although wounded, would not return to the Court, but retired himself unknown into a house near the sea in the Confines of the Kingdom, fearing (by as much as I can imagine) the displeasure of my Father. I did also the same, but with a design not to live without that Picture, which although impressed on my heart, I desired to have before my eyes. All passions that proceed from humane affections are supportable, except those of Love. I tried all means to recover the Picture, but all my diligence was in vain, for he kept it always by him, nor did he trust it to any but himself. Perceiving that force was not the way to get it from him, I applied my mind to deceit, which is ever without blame when it is used to overcome, and when violence is needless. I appointed a day when he, (his being absent) as he was accustomed, remained alone to vent forth with sighs and lamentations the passions of his soul without the untrusty testimony of any Attendant.  
I made a young maid appear at his feet, who tearing her hair, and beating her breast, would have awakened the sense of pity in cruelty itself. After she had with her counterfeit tears won credit for her Tale, which Cretan women are very prone to; she said to him, That being walked with her sister to the shore to take the air, they were followed by one who pretended himself a servant to my sister; will not this wicked man, said the Girl, make use of violence, since he may find our voices cannot awaken pity in the seas. And that the dryness of these sands are not capable to commiserate our tears. He presently gave us notice of his ill meaning, making use of force to deprive her of her honour. She perceiving that her schreekes were lost, and although the winds, moved to pity, carried them far off, and that the sea replied unto them, there being none that could hear them, betook herself to the ordinary weapons of women, which are teeth and nails. She will certainly be overcome in this unequal contention, without succour from your valour and goodness.  
The Prince attended not that she should proceed, but laying hold on his sword, said, That she should teach him the way that he might give punishment to that unmannerly man. She feigning she was unable to stir afoot, shown him whereabouts he should find her sister. The Prince leaving her ran hastily to the shore. The Maid in the mean while took the Picture of Dianea, of which there was no doubt but that it would have been known even by those that have not seen the Sun. I having received it, without delay embarked with an intention for Cyprus, to see if the pencil had flattered or copied those beauties. I withal was not without hope of attaining Dianea for wife. In Crete there was no hope for my life, much less for the Kingdom.  
Whilst transported with these thoughts I erected me a Fortune fastened to my desires, she that used to laugh at the vanity of my designs made me see with how little wisdom he works that raises hopes upon the instability of humane accidents. The sea grew so disturbed, that I had neither eyes nor heart that could slight that danger; The remembrance of it yet is horrible. It seemed all the Elements had conspired our shipwreck. Heaven refused us the light of it, to deprive us of the sight of it. The air assaulted with winds deafened the ears of the Mariners, so that they could not obey the directions of the Pilots. The Seas foaming whirlpools of waves from time to time threatened to swallow us. The Land made us afraid in the waters, we expecting no other but some Rock to split us. The Cockboat, which is usually the sacred Anchor of those that are shipwracked, was forced from us by the winds, after our Sails were rend, our Masts broke, and tackle all torn.  
Amidst these miseries, I preferred my vows and prayers to that Image, which if it had had sense would have been moved to laughter at my follies: I was so bold as to reprehend the winds, and blame the waves, as if they had had some knowledge of that beauty; or, as if the Picture of Dianea had been one of Jove. When I perceived that the water (our Vessel being shattered in many places) flowed in to drown us, taking hold of Dianeas Picture, by the assistance of which I promised myself safety, with a plank I threw myself into the sea, suffering myself to be carried by chance, while the darkness of the night permitted me not to discern Rocks, or the shore. I broke the waves for about an hour, keeping myself aloft with my hands and feet to break them: But the Tempest not ceasing, weary of my pains and troubles, I altogether abandoned myself; And I believe I lost my senses, although my hands, assisted by nature, never forsook their hold of the Plank.  
I cannot tell how long I continued in this danger, nor who took me out of the water, but that opening my eyes, although languishing, imagining I had passed into the other Life for a certain, an old man presented himself before me, whom I supposing to be Charon by the Descriptions I had heard from Poets; I said to him, Pardon me (good old man) that I have not brought along with me your reward, for the sea hath devoured all that I had. But lest you should refuse to ferry me over to the other shore without payment, I have a Picture with me, for which you may receive any money, if that beauty be valued in the Abysses; I know it will provoke envy in Proserpina, and peradventure incite Pluto to steal her from above to felicitate these shades.  
The old man laughed at these words, and reaching me his hand, assured me I was alive, and that the Gods had taken pity of my youth. He brought me into a  more commodious than rich: And there omitted nothing that might do me good. Having made me go to bed to dry myself, and that those moist and malignant vapours which I got in the water might be forced out of me; he said: Son, here I live secure from the Tempests of the Sea, and the Lightnings of Heaven, I live to my own satisfaction in a quietude and happiness; Ambition and Envy not entering under the Humilities of this roof. The Bow and Angling-rod from day to day procure me food; and perhaps the greatest Monarches of the world, amidst their Feasts and Purples, enjoy not near so much of felicity. These Books are my companions, which beside the Delight they afford, every the mind with most worthy Knowledges. This said, he comforted me with some precious Wines, adding; And these are also brought me by the Sea, without my diligence: Being recovered, he left me to my rest, going forth to provide something for Supper.  
My sleep was but for a moment; for being perpetually interrupted by Dreams, I could take no Repose in my bed. I arose and displayed Dianea's Picture, and found the water had done it no harm. I conceived the Sea had done reverence to it, believing it one of Venus: As if (I know not how) every extraordinary beauty should receive an augmentation from the Waters. I began a Discourse to it with so eager an earnestness, as if it had had not only a power to listen to me, but also to afford me an Answer. My implorations were attended on by an infinity of sighs and tears, ever upbraiding myself with my own unhappiness. I had season enough to account myself miserable, supplicating mercy from a Picture. I was surprised by the old man, before I could sound a Retreat to my thoughts, my mind was so diverted from all other things. He snatched the Picture from me, with such a fury as if he meant to have torn it: And I think he would have done so, if my Entreaties had not overruled him. I beseeched him to pardon that which had remained uninjured by the Fury of the Sea: That if he meant to destroy it, lest he should become enamoured of it, those eyes ought to be banished which were presumptuous to behold it: Not the Picture which was , and being insensible, tempted no body to love. He taking more disgust at these words, answered me:  
Son! Is it possible that Sense so tyrannises over your reason! Is it possible, that a piece of Art, so much the more vile, by how much the more common, should torment the Affections of an heart that is greater than Art or Nature. I blame not the Picture, which is a Science, derived to us from the Gods, which hath power to eternize those which would not live else but by the Memory of our eyes. I find fault with the intemperance of our pleasures, the madness of our thoughts, the blindness of our understanding, which receives an alteration from imaginary Phantasms, feigned Apparitions, or Likenesses, imitated or flattered. What would you say, if this Picture should not be a Copy of Life, but the conceited invention of a Pencil, which without looker on, had imitated the Ideas of Beauty? Is it handsome then for a man to languish for the Extravagancies of a hand, which more frequently imitates fancy then sense? Is it fit then to submit the sovereignty of our minds to a thing insensible, which too often we deny to the Powers of heaven itself? Son, to be in love, is a continual unhappiness, because Love covets, subjects, and renders vile; And because it compares a man to a Carkasle losing the soul, which flies to establish itself in the object beloved. To dote on a Picture is the worst of Mischiefs: There is no correspondency: The delight is fixed only in the Eyes, and if we be affected, it is either with that which is not; or if there be any such, it may be so adulterated, that it would rather occasion Repentance then Love. But to be enamoured of Pictures, though it be a misery to one, to you in particular it is portentous. This which you so highly esteem, hath exposed you twice into danger of your life, and will occasion you to lose it, if you resolve not to relinquish it. Dianea must not be yours, for so the supreme Will hath decreed, which smiles at the ignorance of our Desires. The Characters which I perceive in your forehead, of the like whereof I have had a long experience by my knowledge in the Science, agreeing with the course of the Heavens, deny you the Possession of her. It will be a wisdom suitable to your birth, which I know to be great, if you would abandon this humour which is displeasing to the Gods. Your peril at Sea hath proved your happiness. The Divine Will knows how to select Antidotes out of poisons: So, forth of your own Dangers do you take notice of the power of the Stars.  
The Venerable old man spoke these and other things with so great a gravity, and so much Eloquence, that he was able even to have persuaded Rocks. I, who had not the heart to hear him proceed, beseeched him to conclude, acknowledging myself convicted; and gave him the Picture of Dianea, not to bear about me the Incendiary of my Evil. Within myself I remained astonished at the vanity of humane Affections, alterable in all things; but in Love's lighter than fire, and more inconstant than Motion. That Portraiture of Dianea which I had defended against the force of a world, and the Powers of a God, for which I had incensed my Brother, forsaken my Father, and undertaken a voluntary Exile from my Country, I left in the hands of an old man, even with him who had had a resolution to have torn it.  
I abode with him some few days, which I only esteem of as my life, being spent without any molestation. He was a Prince of great descent, who unwilling to suffer the miseries of humane kind, or the times, was retired into those woods to enjoy himself. If he would have accepted of my Company, and had not persuaded me to the contrary, demonstrating to me the injuries I should commit against my hopes, and those who stood in need of my assistance; Doubtless I should have continued there, to have enjoyed the contentments of that place, wherein a man in spite of Fortune and Envy might have been Patron of his Genius.  
I departed thence with as much grief as could proceed from an heart obliged. I embarked in a Vessel bound for Negrepont, when Armies and Soldiers made a Pomp of death, slaughter, and cruelty. The grief of my departure was allayed by the desire I had to be an Actor in those Wars, accounted the greatest of the world. I came to the Court, where getting leave to serve as an Adventurer, I fell under the Command of the Duke of Lovastine, who was General of King Dinarderto's Forces, against the warlike King of the Vesati. Having there behaved myself not unworthy of my blood, and particularly in the Battle of Zenilp, and returning afterward to Court, I was Elected by Prodirto for his Companion, who after the Death of his Uncle altogether possessed the heart of his Majesty; insomuch, that he solely had the Command of all things. There I became enamoured of the Princess Floridea, whom although I knew not to be superior to Dianea in perfections, is nevertheless owner of so much beauty, that I was compelled to prefer her to all, Dedicating my soul to her, which I offered up daily to her in beholding her.  
Truly, I had never any more opportunity of disclosing my affection to the Princess then by my eyes; she being instructed by Nature (as I imagine) returned me a correspondency in such manner, that I (who had but been accustomed to love Pictures) conceited myself to be called to the possession of all the favours of love. My felicity had the quality of the Day-flies: For the Death of King Dinanderto ensuing, and those Revolutions in the Kingdom (which cannot but be known to you) I could not enjoy my Loves, no not in an hope. When Prodirto attempted the stealing away of the Princess, I became an Agent in that business, assenting to it, having neither forces nor means to divert him.  
He would have related how they arrived in Cyprus, and how he having got her, lost her, but was interrupted by the Pilot, who came to inform them, that they were pursued by a Pirate's Ship, and that if it belonged to Mariscapi, it was the lesser evil to die then to be took; That he suspected it the day before; for pretending to steer another way, that Vessel did likewise the same; That while the wind continued, he made no words of it, by reason that secured them from danger: but perceiving it to cease, within a few hours they should be overtook. Celardo, and the other Knight, endeavoured to allay the Pilots tears, with saying, That the strength of their Ship, so well provided for a fight, had no reason to be in fear of the power of one only vessel. But he in more terror than before, because the wind fell still, answered:  
Sirs, if you were skilful in Navigation, you would not certainly have have so great a confidence. That without doubt which follows us, is Mariscapi's the most brave one that was ever beheld on these Seas; not so much for the goodness of it, and the strength, as for the valour of the men that are within it. Simple people imagine it was built by Enchantment: For within the compass of a few Months, this most cruel man hath achieved by force such great matters, that his name is become a terror to all that use these Seas. Celardo, and the other Knight, grew curious to know who this Mariscapi was. The Pilot after he had given directions fitting for their Defence, with those preparations, which are used in time of Fight, said;  
Sirs, Between Sicilia and the Coast of Barbary, lies the Island of Melito. Some Command there (under an obligation) to destroy the Pirates of these Seas, more infested then others, by reason they are of an easier passage, and richer than other, by reason of a continual Navigation. One of these is Mariscapi, so named as I believe, that whoever would be secure from his Treacheries, should avoid the Sea: He being covetous of Riches, and not content in that Degree where Fortune had placed him, and of Birth less than ordinary, follows such a course of life, as he himself will not permit to Pirates. He is much worse than they, for they remain satisfied with Prizes; whilst he also puts to death, for fear of being discovered. When he knows he cannot conquer, he counterfeits himself a friend, and afterwards observing his Times and Occasions, equally betrays all. Many times he hath been taken Prisoner, but hath ever had pretences to defend and enlarge himself, and returned after with greater pride, and an higher boldness to ransack these Islands.  
Whilst he reported this, they saw the Vessel of Mariscapi come so nigh them, that the Shouts (carried by the wind) arrived to their ears, though confused. It was but of an ordinary bigness, but so well built and furnished, that a whole Fleet would have found it a difficulty to have taken it. With so strange a speed it ploughed the Sea, that it could not be discerned, whether it moved the Winds, or was moved by them. It came to assault the ship, but with little hurt: although it made a Breach. The fight was unequal: for the ship in height surpassed the Vessel: But yet the valour and cunning of Mariscapi and his Soldiers was so great, that without the assistance of Celardo and that other Knight the ship had doubtless been lost. They fought smartly, having for their Object, the one their safety, and the others the booty. The Sea became red, and seemed as it were that it blushed at the shamefulnesses of those men that came so wickedly to throw away way their lives. Mariscapi's Men made many Thundrings from their Balista's upon the ship, which by reason it was the higher, there was not a blow which did not great harm. On the other side, those in the Vessel with their Arrows, and their wildfires, made a slaughter of their enemies.  
The fight had not been determined without the death of all, if the Wind, that till now had been quiet at this spectacle, had not finished the Contention. The Waves swelled, and the Clouds gathered: they began to blow so violently, that those that fought were compelled by main force to retire. The ship that was the less able to resist the violences of Heaven's Anger, persuaded the Pilot to come ashore in a Rock, which was the beginning of an Island. Celardo, and that other knight, unwilling to adventure themselves more to the inconstancy of the Sea, resolved to travail by Land, until some Accident should prescribe them what to do. Whilst they passed onward into the Island, without meeting any body who could acquaint them with what they desired; Celardo beseeched the Knight to make him partaker of his Adventures, he having not refused to do the same to him.   

The History of Ossirdo.  
I Refuse not (Sir Prince) the Knight replied to serve you, and so much the rather, because my infelicities have received original from the Princess Dianea, who hath been also the occasion of yours. Island is my Country, an Island situated under the Arctic Pole, between Auster and Boreas, near the frozen Sea: in former times (for the remoteness of it) having been called the lost Island. Aspane, who there governs the Sceptre, is my Father. My name is Offirdo, his only son, beloved of the King, and reverenced by the Kingdom, as successor to the Crown. Having attained to that age, wherein Idleness is wont to beget Repentance, I resolved to forsake the Easinesses of my Country, to acquire some applause from the voices of Fame. Island, for the remoteness of it is ignorant of the Ambition of those Monarches, who out of a Desire to enlarge their Dominions, have a Courage to raise War against the stars.  
My Design being laid, without further delay I put it in Execution, making a Voyage to Norway, where unknown I came ashore, although that King was near to my Father, both by blood and affection. Continuing there some certain days in Court, I fixed my thoughts upon the Princess Doricia, an owner of so singular Beauties, that (save only in whiteness) she yielded not to Dianea, Nature peradventure was willing to declare, that she can exercise her wonders in all colours: And that in many Objects shadows are not at all inferior to Lights. Doricia being assured of my Affection, was prodigal to me of all those favours which belong to a Princess. It was an envy to those of the Court to see themselves outstripped by one, who the last of all became her servant.  
The Duke of Gotlandia not enduring to see himself excluded, or to suffer me his Rival, attempted any Treachery to deprive me of my life. But I knew with so good fortune to defend myself, that almost always he was in petal to lose his own. One day, with all the Court, we were returned from Hunting. I before any others, although the Duke endeavoured it, took hold of Doricia's Bridle. The Duke could not refrain saying to me; Knight, yours is a great rashness, who come to ravish those places of honour, to which those durst hardly aspire, who would scorn to be served by you. Duke, (I answered him) I pardon you this boldness, for the reverence I bear to the Princess my Lady. At another time this sword shall show you the disequality that is between your merit and mine. The Duke advanced his hand to have strucken me, but I escaping it, by stepping a foot backward, at the first blow ran him across into the Bosom. This Encounter displeased the King, who upon it was necessitated to forbid me the Court; from which also I got speedily fare away, until Ambassadors should be come from my Father, who arrived presently after.  
His Majesty lamented that I had not revealed myself sooner; and granting the Princess to me for wife, preparations for those shows were begun, which they designed to have most sumptuous. All Artificers were employed, neither was there any Knight, though but of a mean condition, who prepared not himself against the Glories of those Feasts. Irons and Marbles sweat to exalt to eternity joys of such greatness. In this while, the Fame of Dianea's Beauties were divulged. In Court they were discoursed of at large, with an infinity of Encomiums. Sometimes I replied unto them with no other conceits but such as the universal Report did administer. One day when I was in my lodgings, a Letter was presented to me, and importunity expressed for an Answer. I read it with some alteration, perceiving Dianea subscribed. These were the Contents of it.  
Prince of Island,  
THe Reports which brought either the Fame, or the Glory of your Name, and of your Virtue, arriving at Cyprus, were received with such applauses, that so singular conditions have obliged me to them: 'Tis well known that you have neither a superior nor equal; and that the justice of your merit is more offended, by terming you a man, than the Majesty of the Gods is prejudieated by attributing divine Titles to you. I that by an universal Approbation have been glorified for a Beauty above natural, aim to make a sublime union by engra●●…ng your valour to my comeliness: I commend myself, that you might consider of what estimation that beauty is, which is constrained (unsatisfied with the Applauses of others, to praise itself. Conceive not dislikes (Prince) from the favours of Fortune, if you will not deceive the Opinions of those, who believe you the Offspring of all Gentility. If I shall perceive myself neglected, I shall recompense the blushes of my face with the blood of my soul, casting reproaches upon the air, that through my ear came to betray my heart. Suffer not your Affection to diminish for being sued to for love by a Lady against the Rules of our sex's Modesty: Argue from this, the greatness of your Desert, which ravisheth supplication from her, who hath not hitherto been accustomed to hear, much less to entreat. The ordinary Statutes of Nature and Custom ought not to be observed by them, who infinitely transcend the limits of Nature and Custom. The Kingdom of Cyprus sighs for your Resolution to be graced by the protection of so great a Prince; And my heart attends for that relief, which can be only derived from that mind, which is greater than all things, since it is also able to subject those against whom it had no design. I should say I kissed your hand, but must not do it, of first I receive not the honour of your affection; to the which, to preserve her alive the Princess of Cyprus aspires.  
Dianea.  
Having read the Letter, Ire. sinned so overcome with amazement, and so deprived of sense, that I know not whether the shield of Medusa had so much virtue. Presently divers thoughts began to assault my heart. To displease Dianea with a flight Answer was unbeseeming a Knight of honour: To entertain her with general realms of small satisfaction, was an unhandsome proceeding; It being an injustice to deceive a Princess with hopes. To plead Excuses very indecent; A Letter so  with affection, not deserving Exenses. An impossiblility to promise her, I being engaged to Doricia, and our Nuptials so near that I could not retract them, but with dishonour, and peril. Thereupon I considered the inconstancy of our Loves, and the miseries of a mind, evermore unhappy in new Appetites. My Marriage with Dianea, which was the Centre where all my thoughts determined, of which I had got a complete allowance, was now become even a trouble to me, not permmitting me the enjoyment of Dianea's affections; I spoke with the servant that delivered me the Letter, and found him as ignorant as I was irresolute. My mind confirmed, I took Pen, and answered thus:  
Princess of Cyprus.  
I Wish I had the Merit to receive the Honours your Highness is pleased to confer on me, as I have the mind to desire them: And then I should not remain ashamed in the excesses of your Graces, nor your heart entertain a Repentance for having so humbled itself; I should say those Characters which I have received, are fuel which cover the Flames that burn me, if that Fame, with one of her Pens had not engraven your name in the most inward part of my breast. I love you (most Beautiful Princess) and if you would not have condemned the boldness of Affections so ambitious, I should not have suffered your Letters to have preceded mine. But also by that your glories may be apprehended, who are pleased to desire those who dare not supplicate you. I know not how to be thankful to your benignity, for imparting such graces to me, because I am even unworthy to return you thanks. He may thank who presumes to deserve. I that in my Honours can acknowledge no other Motive, but your Highness Will, in silence bow to you. I will come to Cyprus as soon as my Fortune shall permit me. I should prolong the time not to lose that good opinion you are pleased to conceive of me at this distance, which keeps you from discerning my imperfections: but it is most necessary for me to make haste, lest I eternize the torment which the Desires I have to wait on you personally inflicts upon me. I most humbly kiss that hand which hath been able with a few lines to imprison the mind of the Prince of Island.  
Ossirdo.  
Recommending my Letter to the Messenger, I retired into my Lodgings full, I know not whether of confusion or repentance. I thought it a foul unworthiness to betray under my hand the affections of Dianea. And I could not but conceive it an ingratitude to refuse her a corresponcy, at least by Letters. But when my thoughts were fixed upon my engagements to the beauties of Doricia, I tormented myself with resentments, so lively, that sighs and tears were the least signs of my affection. I accused Love, who to disquiet the reposes of my felicity had enforced the mind of Dianea to affect me. I cursed Fortune, who to disturb my desires had presented Treasures to me which I might not obtain. Finally, I blamed the vanity of my thoughts, the inconstancy of my affections, which could not fix upon that object which by the obligement of correspondency, the rules of fidelity, the merit of beauty ought to be preferred to any other.  
To ease me of my grief I entered into Doricias Lodgings; A heart receiving no greater refreshment than from the survey of an excellent Countenance. I found her in bed, as it were dying, encompassed round by her Ladies, who lamented over her as dead. Her face was overcast with a mortal colour, by it to demonstrate the sadness of her heart. Her eyes were shut, neither did she open them but to vent forth her tears. Her tongue could not deliver a plain word, prevented, I believe, by her sighs which buried them in her mouth. Her lips, having lost their scarlet and purple, appeared as if they were overspread with ashes by those most ardent exhalations which proceeded from her heart. Her hands rebelling against the rest of her body continually attempted to tear her hair & do injuries against her face: or rather they strooke her breast, as to break it open, that evaporating the fire she might be molested with a lesser torment. At so funebrous a spectacle I could not refrain from grief, which then is not counterfeit when it is provoled by pity and affection. Taking her by the hand I beseeched of her the occasion of her malady. Fixing her eyes on my countenance, after breathing forth some sighs, as harbingers of her passion, she said:  
Perfidious man, dost thou also endeavour by a dissembling pity to deceive me? Dost thou show a resentment of that evil which thou only hast procured? Wherein hath the unfortunate Doricia demerited thy affections? What error have I committed worthy of a punishment so tormentful? What motive persuaded thee to come and disturb the quiet of my heart, whilst thou intendest to betray me? Lament despised beauties the funeral of your ambition, since you have been desired, and courted, not to be enjoyed but slighted; unhappy Dorieia! to whom hast thou engaged thy mind? Even to one who knows not how to love himself, and was borne under that heaven where the seas are frozen. Her tears stopped her words; whereupon I protesting my affection, by an Imprecation of all the Gods, and my loyalty: I beseeched het not so much to wrong herself by declaring me guilty before the cause was known: That the examples of the seas are not to be compared with those of the heart, much rather because the mountains of Island, although covered with a perpetual snow, give nourishment also to a continual fire within. Lastly, I added it was a property of those to betray who were too fearful to be deceived, and who are free from love cannot be persuaded of the affections of others.  
At these words she being no longer able to contain herself, calling me many times by the name of perfidious and traitor, shown me the Letter I had writ to Dianea; adding, With what excuses (O wicked man) canst thou disguise thy Treachery? Wouldst thou have other testimonies to convince thee then those from thy own hand, & from thy own very Characters? I then perceiving my fault to reprove me, which afflicted my conscience, wished myself rather confronted by a thousand Soldiers with any peril to my life. I endeavoured to appease her with entreaties, with promises, and with invoking the testimony of the Gods, That in the dictating of that Letter I had had no other feeling but that of my hand. All my attestations proved fruitless; whereupon despairing, seeing her so estranged, I laid hold of my Poniard to have slain myself. I would have done it, so great was the repentance I received from her Reproving, and her tears, She herself withheld me; saying:  
I will that you should know the superiority that I have above you in loving; That although these be feigned expressions I will believe them, and prevent them as if true. But yet I deserved not so great a mortification loving you to an excess. Having survayed your praises of Dianea with such a partiality sung from your mouth, I have had an experience of your infidelity, but with so grand a passion, that I had rather have died than endured it. The Letter that came to you under Dianea's name was dictated by me to make trial of your Loyalty. The Gods for my happiness put this in my thoughts, that I might not undergo a Tyranny in the inconstancy of your affections.  
I suffered her not to proceed in these complaints, but said, That to tempt the fidelity of a man approved faithful was an offence to the Gods, That my Letter was a token of my gratitude, not a witness of my affection. That she herself would not have writ otherwise to any great Prince, that towards her had used terms so courteous. To these, and many other reasons, I added such signs of humility, that in a great measure I calmed her disdain: And there is not truly any thing more powerful over the heart of a woman. Time that affords remedies to the most desperate evils exalted me into my former condition, although in some kind she forbore not to tax me. A jealous Lady is a torment so much the more, if she hath reasons sufficient to convince by.  
Our Nuptials were celebrated with that sumptuousness as is fully proper to the Greatness of a King. The Justs, the Tournaments, and the Feasts were infinite; honoured by the presence and assistance of such Knights and Princes, that all acknowledged there were never seen richer in the Kingdom of Norway. Two days only remaining dedicated to the solemnity of my Espousals, when Fortune (troubled with an envy at my contentment) brought a Knight to the Court, who entreated public audience: And being brought in, he so spoke in the presence of the King.  
I am Hydraspe Prince of Hibernia, an Island of the Ocean Sea. Whilst I remained enjoying the quietness of my Country, and the felicity of command, Love came to disturb me. He made use of a Portraiture of Dianea, which happening into Ireland obtained more hearts, which gave up their Liberties to it, than it met with eyes that unconquerably could behold it. It was accompanied with two other Pictures, which peradventure might have been accounted more than handsome, if I had not looked upon a Paragon so exceeding them. Dianea then being made the Idol of my pleasures, in such manner possessed my mind, that the reposes of the night, and all the hours of the day were bestowed in my Adoration of that beauty. My mother fuller of pity than discretion, hoping to take that from my heart which disturbed my sight, made it be stolen from me at such a time as I could not prevent her. Being offended at my mother, and and angry at myself, I departed with an intention to go to Cyprus and get her for my wife; The death of the Infanta of Armenia being also divulged with us. But being to appear before the Idea of beauty, I resolved to apparel myself under habiliments of desert, by bearing to Dianea some testimonies of my valour. In all Courts wheresoever I have yet arrived, I have defended against all Knights that affirm the contrary, That Dianea is the Queen of beauty, and that to mention her an equal was to maintain the wrong, and defraud from justice. Our weapons shall be according to the pleasure of the Knights; The conquered shall leave their names with those of the Ladies whom they serve.  
Thus spoke the Prince of Hibernia with an amazement to all the Court, which laughed at the folly of a man, who ran his life into hazard to defend a thing, which not only was not in his power, but whom to attain he could scarcely reach at by hope. He was suddenly welcomed by his Majesty, who appointed him a very rich Pavilion in the most conspicuous place of the Grand Piazza. He raising up there a little Column affixed upon it this Inscription.  
Dianea the Princess of Cyprus is Queen of beauty. She surpasses in favour all other Ladies, as Venus is the most comely among all the Goddesses. She would contend for priority with the Sun itself, if he by a perpetual motion did not avoid the Comparison. Whoever to their own misfortune will not credit this, he shall find it made good by the Arms of a Knight, the Prince of Hibernia. Glory shall be the reward of the Conquerors; and the punishment of the overcome shall be to leave his own name, and that of his Mistress.  
All that day there was not any body that appeared to Just, every one attending to put themselves into order to chastise an enterprise, imagined the most rash that could be undertaken by a Knight. The Sun had hardly participated of his light to our Hemisphere, but many appeared to combat the Knight: I will omit the particulars of the Tournament, not to trouble you with a relation so superfluous. Not so, replied Celardo, I have a very great curiosity for it, and the rather because our travel is sweetened by such discourses. With your History we have advanced a great way without any tediousness: And truly, being ravished with the pleasure of your discourse, and the variety of your Chances, I have not felt any imaginable weariness. Behold I am ready, answered Ossirdo, to satisfy you: And I do it so much the willinger, because those things are so imprinted in my memory that I figure them as present.  
The first that entered into the Lists was the Duke of Scandia, a young man, who, if he had had as much valour as he had wealth, would have been invincible. He bore an Icarus in his Shield, which he imitated by falling at the first encounter, and grieved that he could not do it in all things by reason he found the earth too hard, and would much rather have been buried in the sea, than have received so great a disgrace in the presence of so many Princes. He left the name of Arcea the Duchess of Cimbria.  
The Count of Lupponia presently supplied his place, who ever hitherto from all Giosts came off with honour. The Emprefle of his shield was one disguised with this Motto, Feigned, I feign. At the first encounter with their Lances he in a manner equalled the Prince; at the second they both hit upon the breast, although with some disadvantage to the Count who was a little disordered. Taking new Spears they came to the third, angry at themselves that they had not been able to overcome, The Prince was a little wounded in his arm, because the Lance glancing from his shield unbroken stuck in his vantbrace. The Count was cast forth of his saddle with so great a fall, that all thought him dead. He was constrained to leave the name of Cresia, a Damsel of the Queens, who received more sorrow to see her Knight so handled, than she did for the loss of the quarrel for her beauty.  
That day the Prince would fight no more, both by reason it was late, and also because the wound on his arm pained him. The morning following he appeared armed whilst many expected and requested the battle. In little more than two hours he unhorsed fix at the first encounter, with so much facility, that he astonished all the Court, because they were Knights of estimation. The Dukes of Filtra and of Nidrosia: The Counts of Finmarca, and of Berge: And the Barons of Nagardia, and of Hanima; they left the names of Gelasia, Andrena, Filarta, Eusina, Polimena, Floralta, even all Damsels belonging unto the Queen.  
After dinner there appeared a Knight in the Lists in black Armour with studs of Gold, who was unknown to all. He bore for his sign a Sun Dial: which shown it is life and motion. The Prince taking his Lance ran to meet him with so violent a force, that he made him bow strangely whilst he lost one of his stirrups. Being both inflamed with indignation they took second Lances, running as swift as their Horses could. The unknown Knight with so much courage strooke the Prince, that he was compelled (to avoid falling) to embrace his horse's neck, whilst the Prince with such a fury hit him on the Helmet, that he struck it from his head. All stood amazed at this encounter, and the rather because that Knight was Known to be a Sarmatian Lady, who a long time had waited on her Majesty. She clothed her countenance with a fierce beauty, and manifested that strength might reign in that Sex (which upon a false presupposition) was supposed the more weak. She, not acknowledging herself overcome, laid hand to her sword, adding; Knight, although I have lost my Arms, I have not also my understanding, which obliges me to defend the beauties of the Ladies of this Court. The advantage you have over me will more perspicuously demonstrate the injustice of your Cause. The Prince, blushing to have found so much strength in a woman, answered: Fair Lady, I ought not to combat with you, for my quarrel extends no farther than against man: And besides, if I ought, I would not fight, you having the advantage by having your face uncovered, which hath a power to conquer me equal to your hands.  
Upon this there entered into the place the Baron of Macina, the proudest Knight that I had ever seen. His original was from the Vulgar, although he daily vaunted of Nobility. He scorned all, and both in Letters and Arms conceited himself without an equal. He ran to his service, whosoever sought to him, and for any vile hopes slighted the Laws of honour and obligation. He road upon a horse all black save his forehead, which was marked with four stars, which even compelled all eyes to suppose them silver. His Arms were most rich, but gained by deceit and rapine. For his Impress he bore a Leopard, which said, If I overcome not, I do not follow. The two first Encounters were equal, no advantage appearing. In the third, as the Prince passed on without receiving the least damage, the Baron fell, his horse falling down dead under him. He suddenly drew his sword, and said, I ought not to receive blame for the faults of my horse; with my sword I will maintain the Prerogatives of the beauty that I adore Alight therefore if you would not that I should commit a crime not usual between Knights. The Prince lighted, answering him, Although there is no reason that should compel me to combat with you having unhorsed you: yet I will remove from you any pretence that you may not excuse the injustice you maintain. So saying, he strooke such a blow upon his helm, that if it had not been of a finer temper than ordinary, that had determined the Quarrel. He for all that, not losing a jot of his vigour, gave the Prince such a thrust, that his Armour being broke with it, he wounded him in the Flank, conceived considerable for the blood that ran from it. The Prince, after many blows given and received, foreseeing that the victory consisted in the celerity, feigning to strike him on the head, whilst he held advanced his Shield and Sword, ran him through the body. The Baron dying fell down, so that the Prince had not time to receive the name of the beauty that he defended. His death was only distasteful to the Ladies, for they were in hope he might have been the Victor. There were none else in the Court that felt any resentment at his death, for his pride had rendered him hateful, even to those who had made him great.  
The Prince went out of the field to dress his wounds, which for fifteen days enforced him to keep his bed. Being recovered, there was not any body that would adventure themselves; the example of the Baron having admonished the most undaunted not to endanger themselves in a matter where the reward did not parallel the peril. Two days he had remained idle, when on the third a Knight appeared who demanded to Just, imagined of great Nobility by the attendance of his Servants, and the richness of his Arms. He wore an upper-garment all studded with gold and pearl. The Impress in his Shield was a death which held an Olive in his hands. They took the field, and ran the Course at the full speed of their horses. The Knight smote the Prince on the Helmet with so impetuous a violence, that bowing himself first on the right side, then on the left, he was enforced to fall: On the other side he was strooke by the Prince on the Shield, which being of the purest steel, making the Spear to glide to his breast, and that (with a Coat of Mail, not having sufficient resistance against the assault of an hand rendered by Destiny more cruel than ordinary) was pierced from one side to the other, exhaling his soul with his blood. The sorrow of all was very great, but more especially when they knew him to be Lord of the Island of Tarpasia. He was taken forth of the field by his, who by their lamentations would have moved pity in the Air, and with their tears have violated even breasts of brass.  
Two days after, the Prince perceiving that none answered to his challenge, appointed his departure. He made his resolution to be published by sound of Trumpet, with a grand resentment to the Ladies of the Court, who accounted as stolen from their merit as much of glory as was added to Dianea's name. One Evening finding Doricia even drowned in a grievous sorrow, I enquired what might be the cause of her sadness. Before she would answer me, she made that her sighs and tears should captivate the benevolence of my heart, the more easily to persuade it. Afterwards (I know not whether speaking or weeping) she said to me:  
I bemoan not these despised beauties as too poor to have Champions: For that deserveth not tears which is not worthy of defence. But I lament at my little fortune that hath rendered me subject to one who hath an heart to look upon me as slighted. How (I beseech you) can you love me, if with a silent allowance you suffer injuries which are directly aimed at me? Slight are solely admitted against those things which should be slighted. And how should I affect you that endure me to be neglected before my eyes? He deserves not love who demonstrates not his affection by the Effects. Let your memory present to itself, when with adulterate leasings of above humane Titles you attempted to beguile the simplicity of my Genius. Then the power of a world would have been too weak against the strength of your arm. At the present, now possession hath cooled or cloyed your desire, one only man is sufficient to beget fears in that mind which could not have been terrified. I condemn your Judgement that have not the boldness to defend her, to whom you have engaged your soul to love her. Whilst you courted me for a Wife you would have moved a rock, and now to maintain my honour you languish in Idleness. 'Tis true, that the beauties of Dianea (augmented perchance by an Hyperbolical Fame) exceed the comparison of mine, tormented by a slighting: but you not withstanding are obliged to defend them against a Venus. Having elected them, wherefore refuse you to protect them; you scare peradventure to combat against what is just, you deceive yourself. Beauty hath no other reason but that of the eyes: nor can he be accused of injustice who defends that he loves. I will not tax you of Cowardice, as fearing a Knight who hath been almost vanquished by a woman, although to me your actions declare you such, not to do a wrong to my choice. I only supplicate you, that you permit not one sole man to departed hence vainglorious by a reputation from the Ladies of this Court. But you perhaps affecting Dianea, would for her merit that our Disgraces should add glories to her Triumphs. The more I reflect on your thought, so much the more it confirms me. He knows not how to love me who knows not how to guard me from injuries. If this be true, wherefore would you betray me? Aim not to carry me into Island, for I cannot be secure of my life with him who would not deliver me from scorns.  
She would have spoke more, if tears and sighs accompanying her words to vent her passion, had not destroyed them as soon as they were borne. I remained so  with affliction, that if the temembrance of my State had not stopped my tears, they would have fall'n in an abundance. I know not by what Fatality I was withheld from fight against the Prince of Hibernia. I believe that since I had had the Fortune to be your Companion, you have not perceived in me any signs of a base mind, and yet then I had not the courage to lay hand on my sword. I know not if the imagination that Dianea's beauty was superiout to that of Doricia occasioned that aversion in me; or rather that some Devil diverted me from that fight. Nevertheless I enforced myself to convince Doricia with words, not having the heart to give her satisfaction by my actions, I said to her:  
Doricia, you mortify my affection, whilst being engaged in marriage, you have an ambition to entice eyes with your beauties, and whilst you have a desire that they should be published. The face of a wife should not pretend to more than to meet the satisfaction of her husband. She is not more comely but by that heart by which she hath been judged and chosen for the most handsome; your beauty henceforth is not to be submitted to opinion nor censure. If I should maintain it against the follies of the Prince of Hibernia, the danger will be greater than the profit. If I should conquer, I should gain nothing but a confirmation of my own thought, which hath made choice of you as the most beautiful of this Age. If Fortune should rob from me the Palm of victory, what a grief would mine be? I should be accused of imprudency, for being more willing to give credit to the force of my sword, then to the undeceivable judgement of my eyes. I should imagine myself worthy of reproaches from all mouths whilst I should defend the beauty of those things which are mine. Give way to others to speak your praises: The Encomiums of those that are interessed render merit suspected. Woe be to that husband who desires that the Piazza should be the Theatre of his wife's beauty, and would that an universal Fame should servefor an Echo to the Glories of her Countenance. He loves that beauty little, who publishing it makes it more coveted and subject to Rapine. He is very poor of desert, who thinks not himself alone sufficient to comprehend the beauties of his wife. Who so publishes the comeliness of her whom he loves, or would have Companions, or is distrustful of himself, or his own opinion, had need of testimony from others. That Face wants not proofs, nor defences, which can receive no greater prejudice than to see itself exposed to doubt. If I should maintain your beauty against the Prince of Hibernia, I should render you equal to Dianea, whilst by all others you would be accounted much her superior. I affect not so little the Delicacies of Doricia, as I would gain them Paragons, nor adventure them in a battle, which for the most part is overruled by Fortune. Those things are vile which are hazarded to the Arbitrements of Conquerors. If you be wise, argue my affection from hence, who not to put your beauty into a doubt am content in your opinion to be reckoned for a Coward.  
With these, and such like conceits I endeavoured to satisfy her. She had no mind to answer me, being doubly afflicted, both with her grief, and my words: And stuck in an opinion that I affected Dianea, and could not find any means to undeceive her. After he had stayed six days in a vain expectation of Combatants, the Prince of Hibernia departed. And soon after I likewise determined upon going. Doricia went with me in obedience to the Laws of Matrimony, and the Commands of her Father. She would rather have died than departed thence, if she had not scared the Censure of the World. Being arrived in Island, there was not any thing I omitted whereby I might rejoice her, and free her from her so vain suspicions.  
She was even convinced, and thenceforward, laying aside the sadnesses of her mind, she was pleased with the expressions of my affection attending her abroad a Fishing, of which our Island abounds above all other things. To this she would come with much content, we lying purposely for some days upon the shore. Then also she took pleasure to view the wonders of the Island, which even puzzle Faith, and render the relation of them suspicious.  
All the Crows there are milk-white, and the Jay's utter an humane voice. Island hath there high hills, on the tops of which lies a perpetual snow, and the bottoms give nourishment to a continual fire. There are likewise four Fountains, a stones cast distance one from the other, all of contrary qualities. The water of one is hotter than fire: And of another so cold that it cannot be endured. The third is pleasant to the taste, and physical; and the fourth rank poison. But all these Marvels, of which Nature may glory, yield to a voraginous place, about the banks of which those men appear that have perished by a violent death.  
One morning (but against my will) Doricia stayed there, looking on a Damsel, who with a loud voice called brother. He suddenly appeared, and had not been thought a Ghost if she had not embraced him. He was demanded by her the cause of his death: And answered, that to perform an acceptable service to Prince Ossirdo, he with some friends went to the Kingdom of Cyprus to steal Dianea thence. That they having got notice she was to repair to a Fountain, there waited to have taken her. The performance had crowned the Design, if the unexpected coming in of a Knight had not deprived them all of their lives.  
Doricia, her old jealousies being awakened, at these words (perhaps persuading herself, that this man by my appointment went into Cyprus) began to provoke me with injuries so perspicuous, that I could not abstain from cursing my Fortune, which I found daily in a readiness to molest my Reposes. I often offered to interrupt her, and plead my excuses, but her out-cries gave not an opportunity to my reasons. Finally, the unhappy Doricia, not longer able to endure her sorrow, ran (for what ever I could do) to the Fountain of poison, and taking a draught of it fell presently down dead. I (although it be a species of Felicity to be rid of a jealous wife) took so great a discontent at it, that I fell into a sickness that endangered my life.  
These news being brought into the King of Norway's Court, he was so offended, that (for all my Ambassadors could say) raising a powerful Army, he came to the harrowing of our Island. I having in the first battle found Fortune averse, fled away disguised, esteeming it as a folly to tempt again that Destiny who had evermore declared herself my enemy. My Father yielded, having not Forces to resist. The Conqueror mollified by his tears, or rather assured of my innocence, confirmed his Kingdom to him, reserving to himself the Homage for it. I had no mind afterwards to return into Island: but travel up and down the world with an hope to see the malignity of those influences changed, which have hitherto continually designed me to misery.  
Whilst Ossirdo made this Relation of his adventures, they heard some voices, which, broken between those Trees, allowed not a distinction whether they were the effects of joy or sorrow. Mending their Pace, they descried a Palace, which being shone on by the second Luminary of heaven, to their eyes appeared majestical. They heard plainly Lamentations, whereupon persuading themselves some violence was acted, they desired to be admitted in. They were scarce up stairs, but entered into a Room where they saw five so near dying, that with good reason they might be termed Carcases.  
Oleandro and Arnalta were soon known by them. After they had suffered those tears to fall which so miserable an Accident deserved, they enquired of the Damsels what was the occasion of so much evil. Understanding it to be poison, Celardo remembering he had about him the Medal against poison, which Arnalta in her haste at parting had sorgotten, took it, and laying it upon the breast of Oleandro, he speedily recovered his senses. He nevertheless immediately continued his Lamentations against Fortune, which preserved him in life that he might be eternally miserable. Oppressed with sorrow, he had not so much understanding as to know Celardo. He believed Nature had made resistance against the poison, and esteemed it an addition to his wretchedness, that he could not die. But this affliction was soon passed over; for the Medal, which was a stone, called by the Arabians Bezoardica, made the same effect upon all the rest, freeing them out of the hands of death.  
The joys and embrace cannot be expressed. Tired with so many doubled and centuplicated signs of consolation and affection, they gave thanks to Celardo, and Ossirdo, acknowledging themselves obliged to them for their lives. Here renewing their thanks, they knew one another. Only Arelida accusing the stars, and the Gods as Authors of her infelicity, provoked a pity with her moans, even in those that aught to have hated her. She said:  
Is it possible (O Fortune) that thou hast dressed thy head, and rend thy sails not to transport elsewhere the woeful effects of thy malignity. Is it possible that I should find also the Destinies inexorable against my death? Is it possible that death, who satiates not his desires with Mountains of Carcases, declares himself nauseous to my life? I am so miserable, that even Hell refuses me. Unhappy Arelida, for an adjunct to whose miseries the World, Heavens, and the Gods have changed Nature. Love hath rendered thee odious, Iron cannot kill thee, Thiefs fly from thee, the Sea vomits thee up, Poison works not to effect thy revenge, nor to withdraw thee from the scorns of thy enemies. O Knights, what wicked Acts have you pitifully exercised against me! If with divine remedies you can animate the dead, you should not therefore disquiet those that only in death suppose their security. I have not an heart that can live oppressed with so many infelicities. But presently you shall see the effects of your pity. Oleandro, Ariama, why delay you to run me through? Why delay you to revenge yourselves? Behold the hated, behold the abandoned Arelida, who lived till now only to see you die. The hate which my unhappiness necessitates me to bear you is that which hitherto hath kept me alive. I have not lived to live, I have lived to hate you. To what end then stay you; Kill me, kill me. Behold my breast, behold my heart, which for their dotages merit justice from your hands, and with reason cruelty from your swords. Since my follies deserve not the honourable punishment of your disdain, afford me your swords, which very well know how to deliver me from the Tyranny of Destiny. It doth not agree with your Fortune to permit me to live who cannot but hate you.  
Here she was silent, I believe to give leisure to her eyes, that they also might present the sadness of her soul. Oleandro with that gentleness which is proper to a native Prince, with his tears compassionated the miseries of such a Princess. Not enduring that with so desperate conceits she should speak of herself, he said to her:  
Princess Arelida, it is time to calm your mind, accommodating it to the will of heaven, which many times instructs us by an appearance of evil. The remembrance of past things shall be buried in oblivion, whilst Ariama and I will have no other memory but of an Obligation to serve you. It is not convenient that revenge should reign in that breast where the Graces inhabit. If Fortune hath been willing to contrary you, show that your constancy can triumph over the malignity of Fortune, and that out of Iron and fire you have recovered health. The Kingdom of Numidia deplores your absence. The declining age of your Father beseeches you not to abandon him, desirous to felicitate the horrors of death with your presence. But if these reasons are not prevalent to dry away your tears; if revenge overcomes your reason, if your sadnesses cannot admit of comfort but by the determination of my life; if lastly the hatred you bear me will give no leisure to the remembrance of the love which you have borne me, behold my sword, behold my head, satiate yourself, kill me, cut me to pieces. I had rather die than live hated by you. It is against my duty that I should permit that a Princess should hate me without being able to vent it. So saying, he gave her his sword, and kneeling laid his head on her Lap.  
She fetching a deep sigh, and throwing away the sword raised him up, saying to him: Oleandro, with how many sorts of weapons do you know to overcome your enemies. I acknowledge myself vanquished, and from henceforth will change the Altar of Revenge into that of Oblivion. I will meditate occasions to serve you, as I have formerly studied ways to destroy you. I receive Ariama for my sister, and beseech both of you to pardon the follies of an enamoured soul, which until now had not any knowledge by reason. I commend my Kingdom to you two, being unwilling to forsake this house, which hath proved the cause that I can compose my mind to live in quiet. I have no ambition for a Kingdom, which finally will do nothing but disturb me and impoverish me. There is no happier reigning than over ones own affections. These hence forward shall with all my power be kept under to prevent me from encountering errors, which till now have prepared precipices for me.  
So saying, she embraced Ariama with such an Affection, that it gave not, no not a sign to have received at any time any imaginable displeasure. Turning afterwards to Celardo and the others, she said to them: Pardon me (Sirs) that till now, oppressed with my passions, I have neglected that entertainment which is due to all, but in particular to those who have conferred benefits. I will endeavour to supply it with so much the more affection. Then she made some meats to be got ready, the Sun being advanced far in his course. Four days this most noble Company continued with the Princess Arelida, without being able to persuade her to return to her Kingdom of Numidia. Towards which Oleandro, Ariama, Arnalta, and the Count of Olano parted. Celardo and Ossirdo took their way toward the City of Fessa, which gives name to the Region and Kingdom, and is the Metropolis of all Mauritania.  
Arelida, utterly forgetting all those sorrows which would violently have obliged her to Lamentations, enjoyed the delights of that solitude, which is a Paradise to those hearts that know how to enjoy it. She threw to the earth the Statue of revenge, raising in the place of it that of oblivion. It was an old woman crowned with Mandrakes. With her right hand she held a Lynx bound, and with her left a bow of Juniper. She trod upon a winged boy, who had his eyes covered with Poppy. She changed afterwards those black colours into others more cheerful to the eye, and more agreeable to the life she intended. She abolished those Pictures which excited resentments of sorrow, setting such in their room as would rejoice the sight, Hares, Bucks, Birds, and Fish rendered not there unemployed the heart or hand.  
One day returning from hunting, got something afar off from hers, she espied a Knight, that sighing with a continual complaint expressed signs of a very great Passion. He was all armed but his head, having taken off his Helmet to take air, or to give leave to the wind to carry those signs into her face whom he loved. He bore in his Shield for his Empress some Roses, with a Motto which said, Life and death from the Sun. She came upon him before he was ware, so immovable was he become by his passions. He had not so much as perceived her, if Arelida had not said to him, Knight, it were fit you dressed yourself in my , since with such Lamentations you parallel the weakness of women. Tears misbecome all, and especially a Knight, who should not know how to complain. What can be looked for from him, who, to defend himself from sorrow, can make use of no other Arms but those which fall from the eyes, put in practice by every the weakest woman. The Knight blushed at these words, but with a gracious behaviour answered her:  
Fair Lady, Lamentations are not prohibited to Lovers. Love exacts no other tribute but of tears, and with them cannot be satiated. There is not any strength of mind that can make resistance against that force which overthrows the mind. Love is an oppression of the heart, which receives no ease but from sighs and complaints. Rather he that loves is without himself, living in the Object beloved, whereupon it is no marvel that the eyes should shed tears for the damage of such a loss. I conclude (fair Lady) that he cannot love that cannot lament; and that the kindness of the eyes is an Index of the facility of the heart.  
I confess myself convinced by your reasons, replied Arelida, and entreat your pardon for my boldness in disturbing you, and for reprehending you for a thing, of which I had never any feeling. I earnestly beseech you, for a punishment for my error, to go to my house not fare from hence, where I will endeavour to serve you as much (as jesting) I have offended you. The Knight refused not the invitation, and the rather by reason night was stolen much upon them. Being asked by Arelida of the Amours that caused him to be so sad; in this manner the Knight began to unfold them.   

The History of the Stranger-Knight.  
I (Lady) in little less than six Lustrums made love to many. My Genius and opportunity have made me many times fall upon objects which were unworthy of affection. The first was worse than base, my inclination being unable any longer to abide the provocations of sense. The weakness of my age, and the reverence of my Superiors allowed me not therefore occasion and design to employ myself more worthily. In this I continued but a while, being interrupted by one who with a severe censure watched over the dotages of my heart.  
I passed to the second, so much exceeding the former, as I found there beauty above her, who out of her own choice betrayed that faith she owed to another. Some years I continued in this affection, both because I could not enjoy her but by stealth, and because expressing for me a great kindness, I conceited myself eternally obliged to love her; I was diverted by an accident of Fortune, which in amorous encounters discovered me to those eyes, who could not look upon me but with scorn from them, and danger to me. Her tongue and authority employed all their power, so that she recovered his favour whom she had deceived, but upon condition to betray him no more. This she observed inviolably, whence turning sensuality into friendship, I proceeded to new complacencies. I met with two so singular beauties, that I should imagined them from heaven if their infidelity had not discovered their Deceits to me. One, that had a breast more barbarous than her name, betrayed me at the beginning of my love, for conceiting her beauty of the quality of the Sun, she would communicate it to all. The other, whose name was Aura, was of a mind so covetous, that all the Treasures of the world were not sufficient to satiate the Abyss of her Appetites. In Gold only remained the Ciments of her faith. She knew no other Idol, and adored no other Deity; I took occasion to part with them both in dislike, being able neither to endure Rivalship, nor mercinarinesse in love.  
I was grievously fearful to apply again my mind to other Loves, not that my sense was not assenting, but not to hazard myself under torments for so undeserving objects. I exalted my mind upon greater subjects, and bestowed my heart upon those beauties, which not to be termed of the world, I persuaded myself were divine. And I should never have thought otherwise of them, whilst they themselves made me account them Celestial. In these pursuites I employed a whole Lustrum with so much the greater foolishness as hopes are more doubtful, delights more dangerous, passions more vehement, and the fruit for the most part fall'n before it be ripe. They were not superior to others, neither in loyalty, nor goodness, though they made profession of them: peradventure worse, but (Mistresses in the Arts of dissimulation) counterfeited those qualities they had not. It is true that a prohibition renders the delight the greater, and that it is an instinct of our humane kind to desire greatly those things we are forbidden; because Consolations are embittered so by direful accidents, that the dangers and changes do exceed the delights which may be gathered from them. The examples of others directed me to get out of the way; whereupon I had the Fortune to be secure with damage to those that were endangered by it. The counsels of my friends (in a high manner) encouraged me to that resolution which was scarce believed by those that saw it. In this while I enjoyed many Mistresses, imitating the custom of the Dogs of Egypt, to drink and fly; more to vent the incitements of nature, than by the settled contentment of my heart. These violences of sense being passed over, I was ever penitent; the sensuality of pleasures being a torment to that mind which loves that delight only by accident.  
I had taken up a resolution to live free, all loves being lose and equally engaged to cost and danger, when a pure chance of Fortune made me fall between the Arms of a Beauty, which in despite of time, who had wronged her with some years, had in her a— I know not what conformable to my Genius. With this for some days I proved all those allurements, and all those sweetnesses, which are prodigally bestowed by the most dissolute, and the most free. She would move at my very signs, and encountered my satisfaction before I knew how to request, or desire them. She took that part of my Presents which was of the least value. Truly, in her I could not discover any thing, but an ardent desire to serve me, aloof from all those Interests which render the delights of Love to be despised.  
I confess that these tricks won such a possession in my heart, that although I did not affect her, she pleased me so, that I knew not where to pretend to more. One day by Fortune I discovered how I was inveigled. Finally, I perceived she was not better than others of the like profession, but yet very much cunninger than others. That which Age had stole from her Face, she added to her wit. Pride and Covetousness strove for precedency in that mind, the most perfidious, the most dissembling, the most base of the world. It was no difficulty for me to leave her, my eye abhorring her no less than my heart.  
I believe I lived but few hours free, because I gave way to myself to be overcome by opportunity, or rather because 'tis the nature of a young man not to live without love. By chance I became spectator of a Beauty so deserving, that it was an injury to the judgement to imagine her subject to a parallel. I suddenly gave her up the dominion over myself; it being an effect rather of stupidity than discretion not to love her. I had the Fortune to serve her to my Contentment, our practice not suspected, but to those that envied my Felicities Conversation, made the flame greater, which so much the more increased, as a suppressed Fire burns the violenter. For a great while I had not the Confidence to declare myself. She with so great a wisdom concealed her Affections, that she gave not me the opportunity to discover my love. If at any time in Discourse I let a word fall to my purpose, she either seemed not to understand it, or returned me an Answer contrary to my meaning.  
Six times the Moon had made a Pomp of her Inconstancies, when being grown impatient of my timorous secretness, feigning an Affection equal to that I bore her, I asked her Advice: If it were better to discover one's flames to a Mistress by Letters, word of mouth, or by the Intercession of others. She readily answered me, that the Decision of that question depended upon the conveniency of the Lover. If he could come to speak to her (she said) at his pleasure, it was not wisdom to make use of the trust of any in so jealous a matter. That the Messengers of such Loves as are not prostitute, if they be base, may be corrupted by others, as they be bribed by you. If they be of a Condition above ordinary, the danger is greater than the profit. Many from Messengers become Lovers, and of Substitutes Principals.  
That a Letter is a dangerous thing, subject to a thousand Accidents, all uncertain; and the rather, because he that writes Love-Letters endeavours much more to express himself eloquent then enamoured. They insert in them Hyperboles, sometimes so far from truth and possibility, as the tongue durst not be so impudent as speak them without blushing. Contrariwise, who speaks to his Mistress himself, acquires the merit of secrecy, which is a most necessary part of Love; being unwilling to trust with any other than his own heart a business of such consequence. He shows himself bold also, which is the Index of a noble mind, whilst fear ordinarily reigns in breasts  with baseness. He acts his own Reasons with the greater Power; Eloquence never failing that Tongue which pleads its own Interests: He persuades most lively, who useth such means, that his Countenance accompanies his words, and whose tears and sighs precede them. If a Lover with a bold Oratory pleads the Reasons of his Cause, he need not despair of victory: There being no mind that yields sooner to Periwasions then that of Women: particularly treating of Love, and rendering themselves easy to believe that which they desire, frequently deceived by their own Opinion, which establisheth them (by a treacherous Consultation with a Looking-glass) in a state of Desert, worthy of the obsequiousness of all hearts.  
If one be enamoured, although a timorous respect dares hardly proffer what one desires, there is no mind but may be inveigled, no oosome but may be inflamed. A Woman shows a great merit in herself, if she hath the valour to terrify her servant. She is persuaded she hath some Attribute of Divinity, when she perceives such Veneration in those that love her. One ought so be fearful but of great things; And a Woman cannot deny love to those, who loving her profess so great estimation of her. Other things also there are which cannot be expressed, nor brought to effect by Letters, nor by Messengers.  
Thus she answered me. Whereupon I thus added; Then will I take your Counsel, which without doubt will lead my heart forth of those errors, which those encounter which take no advice but from themselves. So I revealed my Affection: She remained without motion of my Proposal, and all her colour flying from her face, she neither denied me, nor afforded me a correspondency: I would have added other new Importunities, but being interrupted by those that waited on her, I left my Enterprise imperfect. The day afterward I found her languishing in bed of a Malady not inferior to mine, for she perceived her heart wounded with an impression. I attended on her, procuring her all those Remedies, which by the ability of Physicians, or by the power of Art were imagined necessary. In a short time she was freed from her sickness, driven away (I know not whether) by my vows or tears.  
But yet she kept her bed, to invigorate, especially her mind. when I afresh represented her with my love. She thanked me for it, acknowledged herself beholding, and promised me all correspondency, so they might not derogate from the Laws of her honesty. I anew redoubled my Entreaties and Supplications; whereupon, on the day (according to the Custom of the Country) when all gave Presents, shea vouchsafed me a kiss. This so happy beginning gave me occasion and heart to beseech more, and ravish more from her. It was an easy matter for me, for she with expressions of Affection used to reach to me.  
I attended the accomplishment of these Desires, which are not extinguished with a kiss, when Fortune would infelicitate me with happinesses themselves. I was chosen Commissary to the soldiery of the Castle of Lomapa by the Council of State. My departure thence was with that resentment, as if my soul were separated from my body. A thousand doubts combat upon the fear of my mind, having abandoned her who can only reconsolate the sadnesses of my heart. My greatest ease is to walk sometimes, wand'ring up and down these Fields, participating my passion with them. You will not therefore hereafter have reason to chide me, having understood the justice of my tears.  
I suffer with you (Sir Knight) replied Arelida, and compassionate you; and so much the more, because I have reason to do so. And now being come near the Palace, they were met by the Squires, who having already covered the Tables, waited the return of their Lady. Arelida and the Knight presently sat them down. Where, after a supper of the most delicate meats, they proceeded into divers discourses, until being told by them that waited, that the night was very far spent, they retired to their rests: although the grief the Knight felt (for the great distance of his beloved Object) did not afford him, but one short sleep disquieted by a thousand Phantasms.  
All this while Dorcone, the King of the Thracians, remained in Cyprus, honoured by King Vassileo, with an Affection above his Genius, by reason of his new Enmity with the Prince of Crect. The day was spent either in Tournements or Hunt and a great part of the nights in Plays and Dances. At all times the Thracian would wait upon Dianea, who although she was full of sorrow for the remote absence of Astidamo, feigned herself to accept him gratefully, though she seriously hated him.  
He  with confidence, through the Affection of King Vassileo, one day taking him aside, requested the marriage with Dianea, demonstrating that these Nuptials only could secure the safety of Cyprus, insidiated by the Kings of Armenia, of Egypt, of Crect, and of all those that envied or feared the greatness of him: That the wisdom of men consisted in preventing dangers. But if these Motives should even prove useless, he hoped to obtain her, because he could not bestow his daughter on a dearer friend, and a son more interested to his Majesty. King Vassileo thanking the Thracian for his excellent disposition, through which he was willing to change Friendship into Alliance, replied; That in a business of such consequence, he would acquaint his Council with it, to conclude the marriage, with the greater reputation to them both. That he had designed to bestow Dianea on the Duke of Filena, to whom he had imparted some of his Resolution with the Assent of the same Council, that if it should be in his power to retract his word, he would do it more than willingly, there being no comparison between the greatness of the Thracian, and the poor Fortunes of a Duke. That Princes nevertheless in some business were not Patrons of themselves. Leaving him then in this Commotion of heart, he demanded the Opinion of his Council of State.  
Only two raised Opinions. The Baron of Ovarta, a young man of great wit, who preposed by Favours from the Thracian, maintained for him: And the Count of Salinera, the greatest among the chief opposed him.  
The Baron said, that the motions of a Kingdom had need of great stays. That all foreign Princes were illaffected, and all their Neighbour's Enemies. If that Thracia should not be interested in the defence of the Kingdom, they had no other hope. That the modesty of the Duke of Filena would pretend no Resentment to yield up that to a King, which had been promised to him. That he would assent to it, having not an Ambition after so great things, and the sooner, because that Promise had not exceeded the King's desire, and the Approbation of the Council. That Accidents altar the Deliberations of Princes, who would not have a jurisdiction superior to others, if they might not alter at their pleasures. He concluded; it was but reason to give a Queen to Thracia, having slain them a King.  
The Count of Salinera on the other side, having no other Affections but those of the Public Interest, spoke with more lively Reasons.  
Then (said he) shall the Kingdom of Cyprus seek for Kings from Thracia. Then shall our Greatness be prostituted to the command of Barbarians. I know not how such conceits become not rejected before they be spoken. What Motives should invite us! Perhaps the greatness of the King of Thracia. Hath then the Kingdom of Cyprus need of Greatness. To join it to Thracia, is to destroy it, not to make it greater. The Kingdom will be changed into a Province, and we shall all be subjects to Thracia. The fear of our Enemies is not so much as to make us deliver ourselves into the hands of our very Enemies. I much more fear the friendship of the King of Thracia, than the hatred of the King of Egypt, of Armenia, Crect, and all the World. Then shall a remote Fear without other Foundations than those of Opinion persuade the Counsel of Cyprus to subjection. These same Kings which are asserted for Enemies would become united to defend us: The reason of State not permitting the Augmentation of another. His Majesty should lay to heart, if not his Word, at the least his Interests. The Arms, and Armies are under the Duke's Command. To render him discontented, in my opinion were to provoke him to the prejudice of the State: He hath a heart that cannot bear an affront. He added other Reasons, but nevertheless the greater party gave Vote to that of the Baron of Ovarta, both because they perceived the King's mind inclined that way, and because they envied at the Choice made of the Duke of Filena. So much Adulation and Envy can prevail in Councillors.  
The Consult ended; the King went to Dianea's Lodgings, and taking her by the hand, led her aside; saying to her: You may see (through your own understanding) our dangers and those of the Kingdom. All Princes aim at my oppression, and if I prevent not their Malignity with some Defence, I must only wait to become a prey to the Ambition of those who would raise war even against Jove. This cannot be done without joining you in marriage to some great Prince, who interesting himself in our Affairs, will be of power to protect us.  
There could not have been a worthier Election then that of the Duke of Filena, while new Accidents had not presented to us new Resolutions. To alter an opinion is convenient to all, but particularly to Princes; who fear not censure, nor punishment for their inconstancy. The Interests of our security have made me change the Duke of Filena into the King of Thracia, so much the more deserving you, as you merit no less Personage for your Husband then a King. You will evermore receive Commendations, following the Opinion of the Council of State, and the command of your Father.  
Dianea suffered not these words without displeasure: Yet she was unwilling that any external signs should appear to her Father, desiring no● to oppose her Discontents though very reasonable. For a while she deferred her Answer, as if she premeditated words, or rather because she was to declare an Opinion remote from that of her Father, she was willing to prolong as much as was possible her angering him. Lastly, the Ensigns, I know not whether of Shame or Discontent, unfolded in her Countenance, she thus answered him;  
Sir, in some things I supposed myself not obliged to obey your Majesty, above once you commanded me that I should respect the Duke of Filena as my Husband, and (in despite of my heart) I assented, which perchance was very unwilling to submit to Matrimony. Now I would humble myself to your resolutions if I could do it, or if it lay within my power to do it. I find myself engaged to the Duke of Filena, and am not in a condition to receive affections, nor to love another. Let the tenderness of a Father commiserate the weakness of his Daughter, who with the losing of myself have been willing to obey my Father. I do not call to your memory the infelicious remembrances of the Thracians infidelity, because this aught to be a consideration of discretion which some should propose to me. I have not an ambition for the multitude of Kingdoms. This of Cyprus is sufficient to satiate the vastity of these thoughts, which peradventure would not be wooed into a content with the Dominion of a World. The valour of the Duke of Filena allows us not an oceasion to dread the hostility of enemies. The Kingdom of Negrepont speaks too much otherwise of his virtue. I know not who would resist a ship when he should assist at the stern.  
She would have added other reasons, but was interrupted by King Vassileo, who said to her: Dianea, I am not come to dispute with you, but only to acquaint you with my resolus. As a daughter you should reverence them, as disercet commend them. The interests of the State and Kingdom appertain not to your Age, nor to your Sex. It concerns me to make you obey, and acknowledge the Obligation you own to the Gods, and to a Father so affectionate, and so indulgent.  
Dianea, perceiving him full of anger, threw herself at his feet, and there speaking and lamenting, united her tears and supplications to persuade him, and overcome him at the same time. All was in vain, for with a rigorous severity he determined the Nuptials should be solemnised without delay. Whereupon Dianea despaiting altogether of her life, would not any longer conceal her affections. Prostrating herself again at his feet, with sobs, and sighs, and all her cunning, she said to him:  
Father, Behold the unhappy Dianea compelled languishing at your feet to confess the errors and follies of her heart. I deny not to deserve the most severe rigours of your indignation, not for any fault I can discern in my Election, but for having made it without the approbation of your Majesty. But now torments and crosses are prepared, for I cannot assent to a new Marriage, having given my Faith to Astidamo Prince of Crete. Let not your Majesty think that I will justify the demerit of my disobedience, for I will have no reason against a Father who hath been pleased to love me to such an excess: Much less can I beseech you for pardon, because my mind cannot imagine an offence, having made choice of a Prince so great, and so worthy; nor can I admit of repentance for having elected him.  
King Vassileo in a moment changed colour a thousand times. That countenance, which through age was nothing but paleness, he apparelled with so many flames, that it well preclaimed the fire which he nourished in his breast. He would have thrust Dianea from him, who held him, embracing his Knees, if a sudden fear had not brought a trembling both into his feet and hands.  
Recovering in some measure his strength, and growing into a fury, he gave command for the imprisonment of Dianea. There was not any that durst contradict him, nor inquire of him the cause; showing himself so highly displeased, that it was not with security of life to speak to him. About an hour after, dissembling the flames of his perturbation, he sent for the Thracian, to whom he related his miseries, with resentments so lively, that Dorcone himself was enforced to accompany him in weeping. After wards, breaking the silence, he was compelled to by grief, he began to say:  
O what prodigies are these that reward me with inventions of impossibility, only to render me miserable. Father you have slain me. How can it be, that Dianea, who bears bashfulness and simplicity in her countenance, should be disobedient to her Father? Can she be immodest? Your Majesty must excuse me if I believe it not: For my affection would not receive an impression on of things which might prejudice the honour of Dianea. But yet let it be how it will; I beseech your Majesty to bestow her on me, because my affection is not capable of any thing but the possession of her. I hope by serving her I shall despoil her of all those loves which have rendered her engaged to another.  
King Vassileo, setting aside the interests of his Kingdom, answered: Friend, I am unwilling she should be another's who would not be mine. She shall receive from me double punishment, as from a Judge, and as from a Father. Having abused the effects of my love she shall prove those of my indignation. The Thracian replied, suggesting to him; That he could not more worthily supply the Interests of her honour than by placing her in marriage; That otherwise she would ever live with that blemish of shame on her Reputation. King Vassileo becoming impatient by the provocations of sorrow, unable to suffer that others should appoint him Rules to his Affairs, returned him a sharp answer: which Dorcone taking great exception at parted from him  with anger. The voices of the people increased it upon him, who always ignorant in their Furies, supposing him the author of Dianea's miseries, followed him through the streets with a thousand reproaches. The Thracian was become odious to all the Court, his vices being discovered, appearing the greater, because for a time he had dissembled them. Many times he held himself but little assured of his life, perceiving the clamours multiplied in such a manner, that they expressed evidences of an insurrection.  
Dorcone resolved upon his departure, unwilling to render himself liable to the Precipices of the Vulgar, always blind in their Judgements, and ever rash in their Resolutions. He scarce arrived at the Port, when he saw the burning of his two Galleys, consumed with fire before the Mariners could provide any remedy. A few by swimming escaped the danger, the fire at one and the same time having deprived them both of preventions, and an escape. It was an impossibility to penetrate into the original, though the simpler sort imagined it fire fall'n from heaven. This accident nevertheless made him not at all retard his departure; for Dorcone, hiring a small Vessel, went aboard with all his.  
Before he was got far from the Port, he was certified of the death of Dianea. He with much ado suppressing his tears, began to vent a thousand imprecations against that Father who had violated Nature, and thrown into oblivion the name and affection of a Father. Before he would hasten the Mariners to fly from that heaven, so impious, that it rendered a Father an Executioner to his own Children, he would understand better the particulars of Dianea's death.  
The Count of Vafraro, who had a great Acquaintance in the Court, and who (to that purpose) was left behind by Dorcone, thus gave him an account of it:  
After the departure of your Majesty, King Vassileo convoked his privy Council, whom he made acquainted with the Amours of Dianea, proposing what punishment a Daughter deserved that had disobeyed her Father, defamed the Kingdom, and betrayed her honesty. By the Council there was two ways demonstrated to him: The one of the Laws of the Kingdom, which appointed her to punishment, and that of the affection of his Majesty which might render her worthy of grace and pardon: Both just, though that of the Father's forgiveness more proper. For if he pardoned through the effects of his clemency those he did not love; why ought he not to pardon her whom he should love more than himself? Afterwards he was beseeched by all the Council to impose upon the inconsideration of youth that punishment which the error of the Princess merited. That a Father neither aught to be a King or Judge against his Children. That the old age of his Majesty required not such an affliction; neither the Kingdom such a loss.  
To these reason's King Vassileo answered, that he could not distinguish between the person of a Father, and that of a King. That he had loved Dianea, accounting her a support to his age, a reputation to his house, an honour to the Kingdom, and a benefit to his People. But she proving otherwise, he was obliged to hate her. That, that ill which impunity might bring forth, or the dissembling of his Daughter's errors enforced him to condemn her; else he should always be held culpable of the miseries his Clemency would produce That it was more profitable for the Kingdom to have no Heirs, than to have them unworthy. That he should immortalize himself more by punishing her, than by seeing her a mother of many Children. It being an higher reputation in a just Judge, to take away the lives of his Children, than to abide them culpable. This said, he made the Sentence of her death to be signed, which she had incurred by the Laws of the Kingdom, having disobeyed her Father, married a Stranger, and made an oblation of herself before the Nuptials were solemnised. With a strange undauntedness he subscribed it, whence many judged him without love, or that he was insensible of compassion at the miseries of his Daughter.  
Dianea, when she heard the certainty of her death, and that the revocation of it depended upon the cruelty of him who was inexorable, said: Is it possible that an only Princess should not obtain a jot of pity in a Father to give her the courtesy of her life? Not a jot of favour in the Council to excuse her? No whit of wisdom in her Friends to bear with her, who was reverenced a little while since as the Kingdom's Heir? Then by Picture were presented to her many forms of death. She would not look on them; saying, That all deaths were equally cruel, and so much the more commanded from a Father. She made a little aggravation upon the infelicity of her Fortune, on the inhumanity of her Father, and on the cruelty of the Council. Although these words flowed forth from the Ardours of her mind, she had nevertheless so great a moderation in her sorrow, that she prevaricated not into imprecations, which are proper to those who look upon death approaching. She desired she might be allowed to write to her Father, and it not being denied her, she signed a Folio with these ensuing Characters.  
I know not, if I should write to my Father, or the King, both of them proving void of commiseration to sacrifice me to ignominy, despoiled altogether of that pity which resides in Regal minds, and in Paternal breasts. I will write only to a Father, to acconsolate the horrors of an infelicious death with that name which hath had at all times the power to make me happy. I shall not be so sensible (Father) of that hand which shall sacrifice me to death, as the sense of the sorrow is insupportable to me, which hath constrained you to condemn me in my life and honour. I feel in me a more dolorous compassion that I have of your heart, which is enforced to command the slaughter of a Daughter, than I shall in the torment of the punishment for my transgression of the Laws. I had rather die a thousand times than imagine the Agonies which the errors of Dianea have brought upon you. For knowing with what an excess of affection you have been pleased to love me, I know that you have (in the defect of a Daughter) condemned your own Innocency. O just heaven! O most upright Gods! You that make you a mirror of the hearts of men reveal with some resentment, justify with some realty, whether I have injured my Father, my Country, or myself, I love a Prince then whom hitherto Fortune hath not been able with all her Favours to form one more great: who hath delivered my Country from Traitors, my Father from death, and his Daughter from infamy. I desire not (Father) to provoke your tenderness to become pitiful by my supplication: I only beseech you to consider, that I have loved one whom I am not able to hate without the brand of infamy; I will use no more of justification. I would not, pretending to be innocent, make the justice of my Father (for the death of his daughter) appear wicked; All that is just which a Father commands. I implore only a full indulgency to my Ashes, that under the displeasure of my Father I may not descend also unhappy to my Tomb. Father, dry away your tears: For she deserves not compassion that hath incensed a Father. Consolate yourself, that my misery as well brought forth the punishment as the wickedness. Adien dear Father: Adieu beloved Father. Forget in the Remnant of your days this unhappy Dianea, who in the period of her death shall not have an imagination more dirfull than the Remembrance of having offended you.  
Dianea.  
Having ended the Letter, she left it unsealed: And casting herself upon a bed, she commanded the Duchess of Belprato she should suffer the sentence to be executed. Two Salves entered the Lodgings, and putting an halter of silk about her Neck they strangled her. The which was also suddenly done to them before they were suffered to go thence. The Duchess of Belprate got leave to continue a year by the Ashes of Dianea, whilst the other Damsel that waited on her accompanied her in death. The City is full of sadness, and the bolder sort exclaim about the Palace of the King; Give us Dianea, give us the Princess.  
At this Relation Dorcone began to cry out with such a violence, that there was none but thought he was strooke to death.  with fury and anger, he called an Herald to him, whom he commanded to proclaim war against King Vassileo, and without delay making them give their Sails to the wind, he took his voyage towards Thracia.  
The Herald attired in an habit of black Velvet, all embossed with Moons of Gold, expressed an importunity to be brought into the presence of his Majesty. Not being able to procure Audience, the People being assembled in the public Piazza, he said with an high voice: Because King Vassileo hath been so bold to lay his hands unjustly upon his Daughter, the destinated Spouse of the King of Tracia; And because King Vassileo, hath always slighted the Name of the Kings of Thracia, and hath been an enemy, and a sheddet of their blood; Therefore I in the name of the King and People of Thracia, who by Arms will repair such injuries, proclaim and denounce War. So saying, he threw about some Papers, which contained the same he had said; Afterwards from time to time he brandished in solemn manner some small Spears towards where the People were the thickest. This done he went out of the City, and retiring to the Sea entered into a little Bark, which attended him to transport him to Thracia.  
The End of the Third Book.    

DIANEA.  
The Fourth Book.  
FAme, that mixing Truth with Falsehood, renders the one and the other equally mendacious, brought into Eno, the Metropolis of Thracia, the Death of Dorcone, slain in Cyprus by King Vassileo, who had not formerly spared the life of Amuritte. Darimena, who was elected by Destiny, the mother to these two Kings; at these Reports, suppressing her Tears, proper to that Sex, made the forty Rectors that assisted at the Negotiations of State be convocated. Discovering to them the miseries of the Kingdom, and the afflictions of a Mother; she provoked them by the Resentment of that Injury, which ought to be esteemed the greater, depriving her of Sons, and them of Kings.  
Then (said she) shall Cyprus become a Tem to all the Kings of Thracia? Then shall the generosity and the greatness of the Thracians permit, that their Glories shall be buried in Cyprus? To Arms, to Arms, your nation ought not to be so vilely despised, which hath disdained to vouchsafe a pardon to Alexander's. If I did not know the bravery of your hearts, I should take upon me to entreat you to revenge the slaughter of your Kings and my Sons. But it is unfit that the words of a woman should serve as spurs to awaken your Courages. To exhort you, were to prejudicated your hearts, which need no other Motive, but that which they take from themselves. I know that my importunities cannot add provocations to that virtue which eagerly aims at the service of your Prince, and the honour of your Country. I only commend speed to you, that delay may not show signs of dulness, nor add boldness to the Enemy: Celerity is the Mother of Victories: He that is backward to revenge, animates Foes to double their injuries. Who suddenly shows not a Resentment at Offences, seems to have deserved them.  
These words were applauded by all the Council; whereupon the Fleet they reinforced with such a multitude of men, that they seemed now to have conquered two Worlds. The superintendency was given to the Duke of Nicopolis, a subject of so worthy conditions, that there was not any that envied him that honour. Many Princes that were then in Court, enamoured on the Princess Dercilinda, accompanied the Fleet with the greatest possible strength of their Soldiery. There was the Infante of Armenia, a young man whose strength exceeded the tenderness of his years. The King of Scythia foolishly cruel, who was unacquainted with any other reasons, but those of the sword. The Prince of Missia, who, if he had had Valour equal to his Pride, had been without equals. He was acute in his discourse, but always Satirical, and therefore odious even to his friends. The Prince of Epirus advanced into years, and  with Wisdom; yet little skilful in matters of love: And the Infante of Macedonia, who vaunting himself to be heir of Mars, omitted no occasion to make him supposed such.  
Of the Subjects of Thracia, among others, the most conspicuous were four Dukes, of Pereno, of Scitone, of Redcsto, and of Selimbria. Six Counts; of Finopolis, of Perontieo, of Tinia, of Patia, of Marcorico, and of Marcnia. Two Barons, that of Cardia, so  with Wisdom and Valour, that his Pen and his Sword rendered him equally glorious: And that of Achialo, perhaps richer than the King, but of so unworthy a behaviour, that (with good reason) he was abhorred by all.  
Whilst the Fleet proceeded towards Cyprus, Dorcone was carried by contrary winds into the Sea of Saturn, within a little distance of the Isle of Melena. There staying some time to mend the damages they had received by the late Tempest, he made the Vessel to be directed towards Thracia; whilst with an anxiety of Thought he accused Heaven, Windes, and Destiny; that even flyingly they transported him not where his mind desired to be; at the same time he took notice that the Mariners struck sail; and throwing forth the Cockboat, they did an obedience to a Galley. Full of indignation, he commanded the Captain of the Vessel into his presence, of whom he demanded the cause of his delay, who if they even flew would not have been altogether satisfied with it.  

The Mariner's History.  
HE was answered by the Mariner, that being on the Sea, belonging to the free Princes, he was obliged in duty to acknowledge their Dominion, which was not doubted of by any. Then applied the Thracian, the Liberty of the Sea is also put into contention by tyrannical Ambition. Can Navigation, which Nature hath rendered common to all, be usurped by any? The Mariner answered; That the sailing on the Sea was common to all: It remained not therefore, that the superintendency belonged not to some. That Nature herself had produced all things for all: yet nevertheless the custom of Nations made every one the Patron of their own Properties: That it was necessary that some should have the predominancy of the Sea to defend it from the Rapacity of Pirates.  
The Thracian replied, somewhat pacified in his fury; and why doth this Sovereignty of the Sea belong to the free Princes, and to no other Prince who hath his Kingdoms near to the same Sea?  
It is no difficult business, added the Mariner, to prove it: There being two foundations upon which the most just command of the free Princes over the Sea is raised. The one is, having occupied it, as a thing altogether abandoned by the first, and legitimate possessors; The other is, having defended it through so many ages, against all the strength of Arms, and envy of all their Enemies in the world. It is a thing without the jurisdiction of Doubt or Dispute, that those things which have no Patron, or because they never had, or because the lawful Lord slighted the Possession, belong to those that first seize them, and defend them: and such an one hath a just Title, and a Legitimate Command to be accounted the true Owner. By the very same right the free Princes have made themselves Masters of the Lakes, in the which they founded their City, believed by all the Miracle of Nations, and a Model of that of Heaven. For the first Founders, which were the most noble of the most noble Cities, retiting themselves to avoid the cruelty of Barbarians, and finding them unoccupied, and abandoned by the Owners, as a thing of small moment, gave the beginning to the glorious Foundation of their City, not finding any that had the boldness to oppose, they became Lords of the place, as of a thing that ought to be his, who came the first to possess it. Whereupon the Emperors of the East, and West, dividing between them the Empire, declared; That the City of the free Princes should remain free, and that it should be understood to belong to neither of them.  
The very same just Title then that the free Princes have of their City, they have also over this Sea. This Sea of Saturn, which is enclosed by Istria, Albania, Pulia, and Abruzzo, and Romania, did formerly appertain to the Emperor of the East. The vicissitude of things which never suffers greatnesses to continue in their heights, debilitated in such wise the Emperor's Maritimate Forces, that being unable to defend this Sea, he left it exposed to the Incursions of all those which would infest it. The Narentines, a people accustomed to Thefts and Rapines, becoming potent by molesting it daily, imposed a tribute upon the Navigation, as absolute Patrons. The Emperor never suppressed so great a presumption, although the tears of his Subjects, who were rob by these Pirates, acquainted him with the Losses they received by it.  
The free Princes perceiving the Emperor had abandoned and neglected the possession of this Sea, leaving it in prey to Pirates, who arrogated to themselves the Dominion of it, and made themselves Lords of it, took Arms, and by the space of an hundred and seventy years, fought continually against the Narentines. These made such a resistance, favoured and succoured by the King of Croatia, that in the end they were overcome, and constrained to sue for peace. The free Princes gave it them, but with a condition, that leaving their Piracies, they should never more demand any Tribute for Navigation: And so they became Lords of this Sea, the Emperors of the East themselves assenting to it, although Malignity, Envy, or Force should deprive them of it. In the maintaining of which, the Gold and Blood which they have spent, would buy and replenish a world.  
I could say, that the prescription of time, which is of many entire ages, admits not of putting to doubt a verity rendered so indubitable by years. I could say, that a thousand, and a thousand Historians, not obliged to their Interest, but to the duty of truth, affirm this lawful possession, and that for above three hundred years, without ever being contradicted, they have received Tribute for Navigation. I could add, that the greatest Princes of the world are witnesses to this, who confirming this most just possession, have upon many occasions by public writing confessed this truth. Neither have they ever had the boldness to pass with their Fleets before they have got leave, which hath many times been denied them, and many times granted, according to their Interests. I could adjoin many other Reasons that vindicate this verity above suspicion: but speaking to a Prince that understands all things, I have peradventure trespassed too fare in saying so much.  
It is very true, that I cannot conceal (with pardon from your benignity) an annual Ceremony, no less great than ancient, which these Princes use in sign of Sovereignty ever the Sea. One day of the most solemn in the year, the Duke and Senate of the free Princes, with the Ambassadors of the greatest Kings with that State which is agreeable to their greatness go to espouse the Sea; the Prince throwing in a rich Ring, saying; We wed thee (O Sea) in sign of a true and perpetual Command. Can your Majesty desire more true, or Reasons more satisfactory? Wonder not then, if I (conforming myself to Custom, and so good cause for it) have done the Obedience that was due.  
The Thracian seemed to be satisfied, saying; These Reasons bear a great strength: but how come so great Interests known to you, accustomed only to blow the waves, and know the winds? how grew you acquainted with the Jurisdictions of these people? Your Majesty may please to know (the Mariner answered) that I am not such as my Habit and Profession show. I am not a Mariner, but through pure necessity, Fortune that blindfoldly dispenses her Inconstancies, hath made me rather trust to the Infidelity of a Sea then that of a Prince.  
I was borne in Catalonia the only son of a Duke, who for his virtues might have pretended to the greatest matters, although he had not an Ambition to desire them. My King knowing me an emulator of my Father's example; suspected he should neither keep his Life nor Kingdom, if I should have Children, or should come into a way to have any: I was compelled to rebel against my Genius, and to put on an habit different from my heart. This did not satisfy to secure the fears of my King, who perhaps was suspicious of punishment for his own violences. Comforted with hope, I undertook a voluntary Exile. I went into the Kingdom of Fortune, and even into that City which is accustomed to allure every one by the Name of Love, although in the effects it returns death.  
There I had the occasion to detest Covetousness and Ambition, that triumph in that Court. Adulation is there in an excess, every one endeavouring to advance himself in some Degree of Favour with his Patron, for his own advantage. The pillage and sale of Places, sacred to the gods, is not reputed a Crime, because it is practised by the greatest. Cruelty there keeps residency, they not knowing Love, who know nothing but to destroy Nature. Gold becomes a recompense to the most vile, and the most ignoble. Holiness, Innocency, and goodness professed in words, but by deeds altogether trodden under foot. All there is vendible, and many there sell themselves at the low price of a Mercenary hope, so much the more uncertain, in that it depends on a life for the most part consumed of Physic and Years. The Kings there are Elective, whereupon they attempt all means to enrich themselves, though to the prejudice of the Kingdom, and their Subjects. Rewards and Punishments are be-bestowed at random. Bribes overcome all difficulties: nor is there a greater Desert than that of Riches. Justice in that Kingdom hath eyes and hands. There is no Religion but in habit, and that for the most part so lascivious, that it equals those of the most public Courtesans. Virtue, which usually in that Kingdom attained to the Crown, is reduced into such a Contempt, that either it is not known, or if known, despised. Hypocrisy possesseth a great part of those that desire to deceive the people. They endeavour the suppression of truth, and there prohibit Pens and Pencils. They forbidden to others those things which they would enjoy alone, and with the greatest severity punish those faults which they themselves are guilty of. In brief, the most execrable Crimes, and the most detestable by the Laws of Nature, and the World, are in this Court become naturalised.  
Upon good Reason I can affirm so much, having to my own peril had trial of them all. To please the insatiability of those, who deprived me of mine own, promising me what belonged to others; in a short time, I found myself made a scorn to the Covetousness of those impious ones, who so extremely hate Poverty, that they cannot as much as endure it in others. I was constrained to departed thence, food failing me to sustain life withal: The promises of my King vanishing, together with that allowance which he owed me upon all Obligations. But there is no reason that is prevalent with the powerful. I retired into the Island of Roses, where betaking myself to Navigation, altogether clearing my mind of those hopes which were able to disquiet me, I pass away my years in felicity.  
They were in this while advanced a great way in their voyage, and entered into the Archipelago, when they discovered a Fleet, which made them put a period to their Discourses. They that stood Sentinel, gave notice that they disoovered a number of Sails so great, that a greater had never been seen upon those Seas, and that by their Streamers they appeared to be of Thracia. Dorcone troubled at this News, proceeded on in such an anxiety, that he knew nor what to imagine: but this change continued not loog; For two Galleys putting forth to know the Vessel, and hardly understanding their King was aboard it; but sign being given of it to the Navy, there was not any demonstration of joy omitted. The Duke of Nicopol is, with all the other Knights came to receive him; whereupon entering upon the Admiral, he enquired the cause of their sailing. When he understood it, he began to thank the Gods that had exceeded him in his desires. He acquainted them with his Thoughts, and so without any delay they went on towards the Kingdom of Cyprus. They sailed six days, and there wanted not two hours of determining the night of the seventh when the Fleet entered into the Port of Cromia, distant from the City of Cury half a League, situated on the top of the Cape towards the West. Although the Soldiers were prepared for battle they found no impediment that might prohibit their Landing.  
King Vassileo being ascertained of this evil that was near him by the preparations of so powerful an enemy, his sorrows for the death of Draned, being for the most part passed over, (a new hurt frequently occasioning the forgetting of the pain of others) betook himself to the defence of his Kingdom. He confirmed Viralto the Duke of Filena in the General's place, although he urged to it by Floridea had attempted all means possible to be dispensed with. The King would have the opinion of his Council about the state of this War, so much the crueler by how much the unjuster. There were divers opinions, and many not without Interests. Those that had possessions, the nearest to the enemy's violence, eagerly maintained that they ought to impedite his Landing. These were their reasons:  
That it was not fitting at the beginning of a War to show any sign of fear, shutting themselves up within Walls, erected only for the weakness of those minds that dare not make a wall of their own breasts against the courage of their enemies. That keeping the Thracians by strength some days at sea, they might be constrained to suffer those discommodities that peradventure might have the power to persuade them into new deliberations. That they ought not to abandon without blood a thing so dear to them as the Port: neither was it reasonable to lose it without danger. Perhaps the Thracians having experimented our Force will repent them of the Enterprise. There is not any thing that altars minds more than peril. To concede ones own to an enemy without blows is to increase his pride by the cowardice of our own Soldiers. That the Thracian, being kept aloof at Sea, will suffer the incommodities of hunger, which being permitted to Land he will make us undergo. These reasons, though they were lively prevented by those to whom their own interests added the more earnestness, did not attain, persuasion, the Baron of Acamara speaking to the contrary with his utmost eloquence.  
It is a rashness (he said) to contend against impossibility; we must leave the Port free to our enemies, because we have not Forces to defend it. The reasons alleged were probable, if the Island of Cyprus had but one only Port: But having so many, which of them shall we defend? The Thracian Fleet is so numerous, that they divided can assail us in divers parts. On the other side, we have not so many men that we can part them. In my opinion, it will be the surest way to preserve our Soldiery in the principal Cities until wisdom or fortune shall afford us an occasion to attempt greater matters. If by Arms we should oppose their landing, we should have our enemies in our face. Leaving them the Port and the Field, fight them they will be always divided. The Soldiers will the rather stick to our defence, seeing that we would not have our security by their danger. The Cities are well stored with provisions for life, and Ammunition for war: Is it possible then in the mean while that our miseries should not awaken the pity of those who fear the greatness and the ambition of the Thracian. I believe the Embassage destined to the King of Egypt will not prove fruitless. The King of Arabia would not see our oppression. Mauritania and Gorsica doubtless willstir in our defence. In the mean while, to keep our Forces entire is the most secure way: It will always be time enough to hazard them. Valour consists in fight, not in precipitating. Let us let our enemy's land, it being an act of prudence to leave that which cannot be held without peril. This is my opinion, who have no Interest greater than that of the public safety. Notwithstanding I always reserve myself to an obedience of what your Majesty shall command.  
There was not any that had the confidence to oppose those reasons: Whereupon the Thracians came to land without hindrance. But they would not remove from the Port until they received information from their Spies. Being certified of King Vassileos' Resolutions, they plundered a great part of the Isse with small profit to themselves, the people and all things of value being got into the principal Cities. They put it into a dispute whether they should first attempt the Conquest of the other Cities, or of the Metropolis, which was Arsinoe. Many delivered their opinions, and amongst others the Duke of Pereno maintained they should first take the other Cities before they laid siege to Arsinoe.  
Conquests (said he) and victories consist in the reputation of Armies: And how can this reputation be acquired continuing at the siege of a City rendered inexpugnable by the strength of the situation, and the obstinacy of the Defenders? I for my own instruction have studied the design, and I think it insuperable if you have no secret intelligence, which if you have I am satisfied. It is built upon a natural Rock, and not liable therefore to be mined. The walls are all of fine stone, and so broad that two carts may meet. On the top they are made after the fashion of a Scarpe, and within there is so much room that it can contain an infinite number of people. Within it is fortified by an high Cavagliere, and three Bastions of earth. It hath a Bulwark in the wall furnished with warlike instruments, that both from above and below scour the ditch from one side to the other. It is also defended by great Towers which encompass it, and within hath a large street following the Circuit of the walls for the conveniency of the horse. The Ditches are deep, industriously made by the force of Chisels. The Flankers of the Ditch are as high, or higher than the top of the walls. The earth without is made like a Scarpe, so that the houses of the City cannot be discerned, and in assaults can receive no harm. There is also the Castle trenched about with ditches, into which the Sea comes, in such wise situated, that I figure to myself the winning of it an impossibility. Contratiwise, setting upon others less strong, and weaklier defended, our Soldiers will receive a recompense for their labours more commodiously, and with less danger. All the chief strength of King Vassileo is within Arsinoe; there he attends us, there he wishes for us. He will consume us before he can be overcome. It is provided with victuals a long time, and fears not storming. For my full discharge I must add, that to besiege it is to endanger the Army, the air being unwholesome, and the waters corrupted, whilst they within the City on the other side have most pure in their wells. All the Island being surprised, what will King Vassileo do with the only place of Arsinoe? Afterwards we may with less inconveniency besiege him, having no Foe at our backs. I beseech your Majesty to excuse me, if peradventure I have not encountered the best, and your meaning.  
The Duke of Nicopolis, all the other remaining silent, thus answered him: If all the Cities of the Kingdom of Cyprus would fall into our hands with that facility that your opinion figures to you, I should likewise subscribe that Arsinoe should be the last that should prove our Forces. But all the Cities being very strong, I must affirm there can be no securer counsel given, than in the first place to bear our Arms to the Siege of Arsinoe. It will be a great terror to King Vassileo, and all his Kingdom, to see us resolved upon the most difficult enterprise; without taking Arsinoe, and the King, what will the Kingdom of Cyprus avail us? When these are fala into our hands, who can supply his Office? Who will refuse to obey us? Rewards and punishments are ordinarily fomentations to the greatest resistances. The King being taken, who will adventure his life without hope of reward! And who will prove faithful, not fearing the punishment of infidelity? But let us pass to a point of higher consequence. We ought, without doubt, to believe that King Vassileo will be aided, either by those that love him, or by those that fear us. To persuade ourselves otherwise, is to give credit to the apparency of dreams, and to flatter our own desires in an impossible supposition. Their Embassage designed for Egypt is now known, and the jealousies of other Princes, who fear our greatness. Succours then coming in time, before Arsinoe be taken, or King Vassileo slain, all our endeavours will prove in vain, and our Armies fruitless. Then we shall be necessitated to adventure a battle with an incertainty to which side victory will incline. The taken City seeing aid come will be against us, partly for hating to be under our command, and partly to deserve some reward from their King. Having betrayed, and renounced their friends, with the greater facility they will deceive their enemies. It is not a secure resolution to confide in the conquered, whilst any hope of their former Liberty remains in them. They will rather be an impediment to us; for being to go to field, we must dismember our Forces to guard them with a good number of Soldiery, not to afford them an opportunity of rebellion. Arsinoe won, all is won, and the Kingdom subjugated. The head is that which enlivens the members, and gives motion and strength to all the rest of the body. That the place is inexpugnable I know not to affirm, although I acknowledge it very strong. As light is communicable to all eyes, so there is not any place that submits not to a valour above ordinary. All that which is subject to necessity, and to the command of the elements, may also be brought under the Laws and strength of a Conqueror. A Sword can make way through all; neither is there any thing but perseverance, and experience may overcome it. So much the greater will the glory and the reputation of the Thracian Armies be, which attempt not upon erterprises imagined possible. Facile attempts are thought unworthy of the Thracians.  
This opinion prevailed, whereupon all the Army began to press upon Arsinoe, they having took order that their Galleys should block up the mouth of the haven. Viralto, who was unwilling to adventure upon so unequal a battle, kept within the Walls, issuing forth only under the advantages of night. The first time he did great harm to the Thraeians, with the slaughter also of many of their Officers: But once falling into an Ambuscado, he was in danger of being slain, losing a great part of his men. Therefore he adventured but seldom forth; and only to impedite their Machine's, which the enemy built, carrying fire to them, but ever with very much danger.  
The Duke of Nicopolis perceiving that a part of the Army was sufficient for the begirting of Arsinoe, whilst they within possessed with fear stole out to run away, and not to fight, counselled Dorcone to attempt some surprisal. The Thracian approving of the Counsel, with ten thousand men marched to Ceraunia, sending the Count of Maronia with as many more to surprise Carpassia. This fell speedily into the Earl's hands; for coming upon it by night, and the Guard being deceived, he was brought into it without Resistance. They saw themselves seized upon before they knew the Thracians. Some that had time to lay hold on their Arms, there miserably lost their lives. The Count stayed not there, for leaving a good Garrison in it, he advanced to the taking in of some Towns, in the which he found no opposition of any moment.  
Clides was a very strong Castle, which with a few Soldiers could withstand any violence. A Knight of good birth commanded there in Chief; but so unskilful in Martial affairs, that he had scarce the courage to look on the enemy's Colours, and so basely fled thence, that he became a shame to his Nation, and a disgrace to those who had advanced him to that Degree. So the Count took that place, and remained Master of all the Champain towards that part of the Island. On the other side, Dorcone, going to force Ceraunia, had the Fortune to seize upon a a Gate unexpectedly; but was suddenly repulsed by the Guard he found there. The Baron of Nicomia was Governor, a subject for every condition regardable, but admirable for his Loyalty. He defended the place with so much Valour, that he gave not occasion to the Thracians hope to departed thence with Victory: Although a sudden fire had consumed his Provisions of Meat, and his Ammunition for war, he was not at all dejected, resolving rather to die then to be wanting to the Generosity of his own heart. The Thracian, who desired to carry this place, tempted the Baron by those means that ordinarily use to overcome any possibility. The King made a Letter his Subject to overcome that mind, that so well knew how to defend himself from his Sword.  
Count of Nicomia.  
Now that Fortune gives me occasion to hope for the possession of this Kingdom, and of this place in particular which you keep; I will make a show of my goodness, and the estimation I hold of those that resemble you in virtue, I will invite you to give me a thing that will be mine, and which you cannot keep but for some moments, and with danger rather to lose your life then defend it. I desire this place as your Gift, not so much to obtain the Possession of it, as to meliorate the Conditions of a Knight, who hath known how, by his valour, to oblige even his Enemies. You in defending it have accomplished all the Vows of your honour and reputation; and have exceeded those, of whom hitherto I have made trial. Conceit not yourself obliged to endeavour a thing impossible, nor to combat against necessity. Assent then to that which you cannot avoid. You are invited by a King, who makes profession of Glory, and who would not counsel you to an Action, if he supposed that it were unworthy. If you consider your own state, and that of this place, you would perceive the dangers, to which the Gallantry of your bear't exposes you. I mention not rewards, not to contaminate the generousness of your Miude. Suffer not that Necessity should inasperate the Indulgency of a Conquering Adversary.  
Dorcone.  
This Letter carried by a Trumpet, bade no other effect, but obtained an Answer as  with Courage, as that heart was generous that dictated it and the hand valiant that writ it. Notwithstanding, he forgot not that he writ to a King, who might hereafter chastise him for an inconsiderate Answer. He writthen;  
SIR,  
When by the Majesty of King Vassileo, this Place was assigned to me, I vesolved rather to be buried in it, then give it up to any others than the King who recommended it to me. I should do the same for your Majesty, if I had received the honour to serve you in any Fortune. It only grieves me that I have shown so much easiness in my Actions, that they have been able to move the hopes of a King to tempt me to infidelity. Nevertheless, I hope I shall not deserve the lesser glory by enforcing myself to overcome those Necessities with the which your Majesty thinks I am environed, and to render that belief fallacious which figured to you proceed against my Loyalty. I shall not pretend any higher Reward by my Actions, but the satisfaction of my King, with the which I shall always be,  
The most humble, and most devoted Servitor of your Majesty, The Count of NICOMIA.  
The Thracian disdaining to see the constancy of those that were combated by necessity, gave command they should be stormed at two places in one time, Those within with such an undauntedness defended themselves, that very many times they made them repent, whose courages had transported them so far. The Governor willing to lay hold on any advantage, commanded a Captain to issue forth with a Troop of Horse, and to charge the Enemy on the left side, whilst another should do so on the right. The Thracians intent only on their Assault might receive a notable loss.  
The Captain refused to go, saying; That he loved not his men so little to endanger them to Death. That it was rashness, not valour, to fight without hope of victory. That to open the Gates could not be without peril, at the same time conquerors, and the vanquished having opportunity to enter into the City. The Governor angry at such a Reply, and the rather because it was in the hearing of all the Officers, and believing without doubt that he was gained by the Treacheries of the Thracian, unwilling that such a Liberty should pass into an example, drew his sword, and many times calling him Traitor, and enemy to his King, with two thrusts killed him, running him through the breast. This was carried to two of the dead man's brothers, who with no ordinary valour were repulsing the violence of the enemy. Not supposing themselves secure of their lives, and making more account of Revenge then honour, they left their stand, and making many others adhering to them and friends to do the like; they said, What reward can arise to be from Victory, since our own party is crueler than the enemies? What Palms can glory promise us in a triumph soiled with our blood? Are not the Thracians sufficient to kill us, but we must feel the sword of our friends? This is the fruit of our hopes. This is the end of our victories. Are soldiers so recompensed? Do they so Crown Conquerors with the death of their Brothers, with the slaughter of their friends, and the destruction of the most valiant? The Foe surely would not have been so cruel.  
The Thracians were ware that on that part the Wall was without Defence; but they were unwilling to be too suddenly confident, suspecting Treachery. Lastly, the boldest among them leading the way, they made it easy to others to climb after them; whereupon a great number being got up, they set open a Gate, with the death of those that made resistance. The Governor ran thither, but it was too late, the enemy being increased, and he in such manner being abandoned by his own Party, that he had not so much time as to retreat into the Castle. Notwithstanding, his defending himself with a great deal of Courage, he was set upon by such a multitude of Soldiers, that after he had received many wounds, he fell down dying, whilst the Thracians possessed the whole City.  
They fell to the sack of it, with such a slaughter of the Inhabitants and Soldiers, that there was not a person of any condition, who was not a partaker of the mischief. The Covetousness of the Conquerors being satiated with the Riches of that City, which were inestimable, they gave themselves over to luxury, not sparing the most noble Maids, or the most chaste Women. The night came upon them, which found them drowned in sleep and wine, without either Guards or Sentinels. They that fled from Clides, assembling together all those others which forsook the Towns to retire into Arsinoe, understood the taking in of Ceraunia. The Count of Terra Grossa, that led those soldiers, imagining with himself that Victory had rendered them without Guards, and Defence, resolved to assault them.  
It was a little after midnight, when he attempted to surprise a Gate. It succeeded happily to him, finding only the shoulders, who rather suffered themselves to be slain, then show any signs of fight. They were in such manner spread over the City, that the noise was not observed, every one supposing those voices were of their own soldiers. If also any loud groan pierced the ears of the Captains, it was believed of the miserable inhabitants. It was already day, when lastly, approaching death made them ware of the damage they had received. The King would have made head, but finding himself only with ten or fifteen of his Guard, he thought it wisdom to withdraw from danger. He cast away the Royal Ensigns that they might not witness who he was. The confusion of soldiers wearied with so much slaughter, exempted him from imprisonment, and secured his flight, the greatest part of his notwithstanding being took Prisoners.  
He was got a League from Ceraunia, when he discovered a Troop of Horse which came against him. He accounted himself dead. He began to cry out, he was the King, that they should not hurt him. These, throwing themselves from their Horses, ran to reverence him, revealing themselves for the Brothers of that Captain, slain by the Baron of Nicomia. They said they were come to change Fortune, not willing to live any longer under his Command, who had so cruel Ministers; That if he would please to accept of their service, he should find them as faithful, as where they had given a trial, by abandoning the defences of the Wall. The Thracian received them with affection, offering himself a Companion to revenge the injust death of their brother.  
Being arrived at the Camp under Arsinoe ●s Fugitives, they brought a great terror into the minds of the Soldiers. And although this loss was insensible to the greatness of such an Army, nevertheless, Valour consisting more in the heart then in the number; many figured to themselves dangers remote, not only from imagination, but sense. If the news of the Victories of the Count of Moronia had not reconsolated and envigorated the Army, without doubt this enterprise had fall'n to nothing. When they saw those Soldiers so loaden with spoils, envying their felicity, with a great deal of courage they longed for an occasion to fight.  
Viralto gave them one; for being advertised of all their successes he consulted, with K. Vassileo to tempt Fortune a little under the auspiciousness of the night. By redoubled Messengers he gave the Count of Terra Grossa to understand, that with the greatest strength possible he should march off to the enemy, just at that time when he thought him the most engaged in sleep. That giving a sign by fire of it, and finding himself answered, he should fall on them with all violence, forbidding Pillage to every body, and taking of Prisoners.  
The Count, having received this Command, put himself into order, without communicating his thought to any whatsoever. Being drawn near to the Enemy's Camp, the night being already fare spent, and the sign given and received, he divided his men into two Bodies, to bring the greater confusion, and the greater fear. There were two ways which led to the Thracians Quarters. The one the ordinary, known to all, through the Champain: the other full of Bushes and Stones, a little about by the Shore. By this he would march, commanding the Baron of Lapithi, a Knight of great Fame, though poor in estate, to advance through the other.  
These two Divisions (amounted to above three thousand Combatants, and although unequal in number, yet not inferior in hope) attended the advantage to assail an Army, which they believed reposed secure under the shadow of the night. They silently marched on, nor broke silence until they were come up to the first Guards. Then thundering forth an infinite of shouts, that would have incited fear in the breast of undauntedness itself; A sound of such warlike instruments accompanied those cries that animating all to victory rendered the Soldiers more fearless against the enemy. Fear and death opening a gap among the Thracians, made them give way to the Corpse de Guard, who with their flight filled all the Tents with confusion and noise. The nearest, becoming bold by necessity, ran to Arms, but sleepy, and full of wine, no knowing either Command, or obedience, fell upon themselves, treading upon, and striking one another.  
They said,  with fear, where are those that assail us? Who hath the boldness to disturb so powerful an Host? Are they enemies, or traitors that provoke us to Arms? Many in this while thought upon flight, which was no less dangerous than fight. Though the Trumpets called the Soldiers to their Colours, though the Captains endeavoured to reduce them into their Ranks, it succeeded but slowly, and with disorder, the darkness concealing the blushes of the Cowardice of the most vile. At the self same time the news of this ill, and the shouts of the Soldiers arrived at the cares of the Thracian. He presently armed himself, commanding the Duke of Nicopolis that he should make resistance on that part, whilst he turned himself to the other.  
To see their King so exposed to dangers was the occasion that all hastened to the fight, not so much to overcome the enemy, as to defend the King, and to merit by the attestations of their valour. The Count of Terra Grossa having broken into the Trenches, and won some of the Forts strove to set them on fire. But the Thracian coming upon him with the greatest strength of his Army, saw the mighty slaughter of his. The Soldiers were already drawn back to the breach, when in the mean while Viralto marching out of Arsinoe fell upon the Thracians, meaning to come on their backs. He assaulted them with mighty outcries to increase the horrors of the battle, and the night.  
Viralto said to the Soldiers: On valiant Spirits, and triumph over those, who, almost overcome with sleep and fear, have no resistance against your valour. Let us sacrifice to Revenge, by the benefit of the night, these cruel men, who causelessly hate us. Regard not their number, which is neither defence, not security to them, but adds to their confusion. Being disorderly in croudes, the darkness will make them kill one another instead of us. If with a generous resolution you do not strive for the victory, which Fortune offers you, there will be hereafter no more hope neither for liberty, nor for life, nor honour.  
This threefold assault in this manner daunted the courages of the Thracians, that with a difficulty they were made to move by their Officers. The Count of Macronia, with all the strength he could gather, turned himself to that part of the danger, and constrained Viralto to retire with all those that followed him. Whereupon these, not a jot retarded by the hurt of wounds, by the loss of their Companions, or by the fear of death, would pass the Bridges or die. Now they grappled with those that resisted them, and now with an obstinate resolution, making a Lather of dead bodies, they attempted to climb upon their Rampires; Darts and Arrows, though sent at random, yet fell not in vain.  
Viralto, willing to show proof of his courage, forced the Trenches in despite of all those that opposed him. He could dot be followed but by a few, the Princes of Missia and Epirus falling on with such a number of Sonldiers, that the Duke was enforced to render himself prisoner, whilst all those were slain that accompanied him. On the other side, Dorcone and the Duke of Nicopolis rendered vain the Forces of the Count of Terra Grossa, and the Baron of Lapithy.  
The night to both the Armies increased the slaughter exceedingly, for not perceiving advantages, or dangers, every one encountered death without fearing it. The Count of Terra Grossa not able any longer to abide the impetuousness of the Thracians set fire to their Tents, making also the same to be done to many of his. The Thracians, on the other side, making the woodworke to be cast to the ground, prevented the fire from increasing: Yet the smoke adding to the darkness of the night occasioned more horror to the Soldiers, and the Conflict to be more cruel. Many fall'n and dying with a new manner of anger attempted revenge upon Carcases. Others losing their swords made use of their nails and teeth, with so much savageness, that they appeared rather beasts than men.  
The Duke of Nicopolis, not able any longer to abide that the victory should hang doubtful, the Sun being now risen, leaving his command of the Soldiers to the King of Scythia, and the Infante of Macedonia finding that multitude availed not but to disorder them in those narrow passages, led a great Party out thence, and taking a compass fell upon the backs of the enemy, making a way through them. The Count of Terra Grossa advertised of this danger, without expressing any show that he shunned it, sent word to the Baron of Lapithy, that wheeling about with all the speed possible, he with his men should sustain that charge. The Baron obeyed; but being presently followed by the King of Scythia, and the Infante of Macedonia, he was taken in the way by the Duke of Nicopolis. There in an open place, their small number being known, they were in such manner straightened, that they had not hope to save themselves.  
The Count of Terra Grossa, who saw the danger the Baron was in, hopeless to conquer, charged on to relieve him. Dorcone followed him, animating his to victory. He said: Behold the enemy that flies and leaves the Field. Behold the Palms which a Triumph promiseth us. This miserable Remnant that hath escaped our hands it behoves us to subdue, to give satisfaction to our anger. Behold the Enemy that retreats, not so much to over come, as to be overcome. Rescue with all your force your friends from the madness of this desperate Foe, which runs to death. So having said, he moved to follow the Count, accompanied by all his Squadrons.  
Cruelty triumphed in this new encounter, Every moment the Soldiers fell, and their own dangers gave them not leisure to compassionate the miseries of others. The Colours were confused and disordered in the battle, and the Army now lost those Parties that observed martial Rules. The quantity of the dead served as Trenches for King Vassileo's Soldiers, encompassed by so many Arms that defence was impossible. The slaughter that the Archers made was without number. Dorcone, not regarding that he was a King, concentred himself among the thickest, hazarding himself to every danger. He was followed by all the Princes, and those of his Guard, who continually made vows for his health and safety. The Duke of Nicopolis also followed by the Barons of Cordia, and of Achialo exposed himself to all perils. Now he broke the order of their Ranks, now encountering the most courageous, he gave leisure to others to assail the weakest. Finally, he managed his sword with such a fierceness, that his enemies thought him a lightning. Yet nevertheless this did not daunt the courage of his Adversaries. The hope of Liberty, and the desire of Victory made them fearelessely to despise death. The Count of Terra Grossa, in valour, and in the richness of his Arms singular among the others, visited the Squadrons one by one, exercising at one & the same time the office of a private Soldier and Captain. He made use of commendations and rebukes, accordingly as the Actions of the Soldiers deserved. He was ready to repair their Losses, sending always fresh Soldiers in their rooms that fell. He said, We must, friends, either conquer or die. Behold there Arsinoe which expects you. And it is necessary that you open your way by your force; What will become of you, if you had rather die flying than fight? He dies not, that gloriously loses his life, defending himself, his Country, his Friends, and Children. He spoke these words with so much boldness, that although he knew the danger, yet he seemed to fear none.  
He encountered in the greatest terror of the Fight the King of Thracia, conceiving he undertook the most glorious enterprise of all, because it was the most difficult, he attempted to kill him. Three blows he gave him, the one after the other, so mighty, that he fell down senseless on the earth. He believing him dead, or at the least mortally wounded, ran upon the Count, who finally being run through with many thrusts, after he had sold his life at a dear price, breathed out his soul, which seemed very unwillingly to abandon that body, and may be guessed it was loath to go forth, fearing the violence of so many Arms.  
On the other side, Dorcone being remounted, without having received any hurt, fell upon the Soldiers, who having lost their Count despaired of their lives. In a short time the Field shown it had produced an infinity of Carcases. There was nothing seen but dead men, nothing heard but such as were trodden on and wounded. The Thracians were become so formidable, that there was not an eye that durst look them in the Countenance. The clamours of the Baron of Lapithy, who encouraged them to fight, were not heard: The fear of death being powerfuller than all things. Whilst he blamed their Cowardice with many words of infamy, he was just struck with an Arrow in the mouth, which he held open, whence silence and dying seized him at one and the same time.  
This death gave the last shake to the soldier's hopes; having none remaining that could regulate their fears, nor bridle their Cowardice, they shown their backs to their enemies. Many retreated to the sea, and many to save themselves hide themselves in Caves. But the greatest part, carried by fear, ran they knew not whither, leaving their heads and their members to the discretion of their heels. There were some that losing their breath with long running, fell down an infamous prey to the horse that pursued them. Others (Fear not leaving to them a distinction of dangers) ran of themselves into the sea, and died there, because they would not die; as if the waters had that pity which they despaired to find in men. But many, and those of the most worthy, to whom death was not a terror to daunt them, flying, and fight, took the way which lead to Arsinoe. There they found that Fortune had presented a Tragedy not inferior to theirs.  
The Princes of Missia and Epirus, emulatours between themselves, ran together to make a Pomp of their valour by the death of those Soldiers, who, after Viralto was taken prisoner, aimed at nothing but to retire. There had not any o● them escaped with his life, if King Vassileo, fearing this the last day of his reign, had not issued out against them, but the disorder, and the terror was so great, that changing their retreat into flight, that venerable old man with his words and entreaties was not able to stay their Cowardice. Finally, all the Chief, ashamed to see their King in danger to be lost, and their own duty adding courage to their fear, they made a stand affront the Enemy, so that their flight might succeed with the least damage possible. The two Princes notwithstanding had forced the Gates, entering with the Soldiers that fled, if the prevention had not come from the Walls.  
The slaughter being over, all those Princes retired into Dorcone's Tent, the which although it was secured from being assaulted, he would not nevertheless (it being about an hour after Sunset) put off his Arms, unwilling that the joys for the Victory should again produce the dangers of the night past: He made the Sentinels, and Corpse de Guard, to be doubled, to be ready against all those sudden Chances which ordinarily happen to Conquerors; Fortune many times rejoicing to draw grief out of Consolations.  
In Arsinoe on the other side, sorrow and terror was seen in the face of all. Women, old men, and Children ran into the Temple, making vows to the Gods for their safety. This night was so  with groans, that they occasioned horror, even in those Breasts who had ●ever known what it was. This lamented for his Son, this his Father, she her Father, she her Husband: And there figuring the enemy in the City victorious, and triumphing, increased their terror. The greatest part of the Women altogether forgetting the weakness of their Sex, ran to the Walls to carry stones, and other instruments to resist the Assailants. Others, (on whom Fear had not the power to clear their minds of Covetousness) hide their Money, Jewels, and Bracelets in the most secret places, and the privatest holes. Many giving themselves over to grief, were so overwhelmed in a dull sorrow, that they were insensible to all things. And some over their little Children, deplored their own, and their infelicity, feeding them more with tears then milk. In sum, every thing was so  with Confusion, Terror, and Amazement, that there was not an eye that had the boldness to take any sleep; nor a member that desired, or would have any repose.  
The Day, and the Light augmented their sadness, the Loss and the Danger appearing ever greater than the fear. The Field was looked upon all covered with dead bodies, that presented to the sight a spectacle so dolorous, that it would have enforced to sorrow a breast of Marble. But all their sadness notwithstanding gave place to the griefs of Floridea, Her mind, that seldom was deceived in its Auguries, assured her of her damage, and the loss of the Duke of File●…: she ran hastily to the Gate to inquire the news on which her life or death depended. One by one she entreated the Fugitives, ask them of the General. This said, he was safe; That, that he would come presently. Others, that he was taken Prisoner; and many, that he was slain.  
Although fear, that always presents things greater than they are, combated her; yet in herself she was not void of desperate hope, which after the manner of a Heart, is the last that dies in our affection. Sometimes being tormented by passion, she vented herself upon the Cowardice of the Soldiers; saying to them; Where, where (O you pusillanimous!) have you left your General? He that hath no greater Interest in this War then your safety, hath hazarded his life for you; and have you so vilely abandoned him? Perhaps you suppose you may be secure, without the protection of his valour. May be you persuade yourselves you may live, though he be dead. Who hath had the Guard of his person? Who was near him in the Battle? Friends, I am not afraid of unlucky News, being always accustomed to grief. Finally, understanding, that in the Entrance of the Enemy's Rampires, (it being impossible to relieve him) he was taken Prisoner; suddenly annimated by that Love which renders the weakest breasts valiant, altogether forgetful of her own dangers, she went out of the walls, running like a mad woman towards the Tents of the Thracians.  
Being stopped by the Guards, she cried to be carried to the King. There was not any that had the boldness to deny her this request; the simpler sort believing her a Goddess: For just such an one her beauty described her. She was seen to run so swiftly over the dead bodies, without any sign of fear, that they could not imagine but she was above humane. She was guided to the presence of Dorcone, who with his Arms on, discoursing with his, about the conclusion of the War, attended till Aurora had dismissed the night. Floridea prostrating herself at his feet, attempted with signs and tears to gain a pity from them whom she was to persuade. The Thracian unable to suffer that that Beauty should continue so languishing, commanded; That rising she should express her desires. Let the Magnanimous breast of your Majesty (added Floridea) vouchsafe pardon to the tenderness of the affection of an unfortunate woman. I well know that pity resides in Regal minds; for they having the instruments to make happy, would not that their hearts should be inferior to their Fortune. I come then (O Magnanimous!) to supplicate you for an Action which will augment Glories to your Triumph and Acclamations to your Fame. In the first Battle, an only Brother of mine became a prey to your Victories. He fought through mere necessity constrained by King Vassileo's Commands, being a stranger, brought into Cyprus by my infelicity. He ●●th no other enmity against the Thracians, then that of obedience which he owed to him, against whom he was not able to refuse it. I add not with new tears provocations to the generosity of the King of the Thracians, who ought not to receive Motions for his Munificence, but from himself. I wipe them away, not because I feel my grief to wain, but not to offend the divinity of that mind which is not liable to Affections. I would offer any thing in recompense of such a favour, if my poverty and yoer greatness admitted of Gifts, I have not the ability to prepare you royal ones, nor you a mind to receive them: At the least I should give you thanks, but the bitterness of my sorrow so confuseth me, and the greatness of the benefit permits me not. Let this also be an Adjunct to the wonders of your Glories, that you can bestow favours on those, who eve know not how to return thanks. To a Magnanimous man, his own Conscience is a great reward. Yet you may assure yourself, that all my speeches shall be nothing but Encomiums of your Liberality, and all my Vows shall not supplicate the Gods, but to see you live eternally, as you shall live immortally in the memory of all Ages.  
So she held her peace, awaiting an Answer in such a posture, that in silence she had voice, and entreaties, and peradventure also violence. All were persuaded by these words, which came forth accompanied with a certain Majesty, that the gave a credit to her passion. The Thracian delayed his Reply, feeling his heart at one and the same time combated by divers affections. The Memory of Dianea, to whom he had sacrificed all his Affections, would not give place to the beauties of Floridea. But fire cannot be eternal among ashes: It may well preserve itself, but finally it will go forth. He blaming the foolishness of his thoughts, which obliged him to love an Object, which could be not loved, gave himself over a prey to this new beauty; so much the rather, for the seeing her in his power, added fomentations to his love, facilitating hope to him. He then answered:  
Fair Maid, if I by silence have entertained your hopes with fears, it was not because I found myself unresolved to pleasure you. Lay the fault of my suspension on your face, which astonisheth even those that are willing to serve you. Your Brother shall be delivered, and all that which may accomplish the vows of your Desires. I know not, notwithstanding what cruel pity you have about you, imprisoning those that give you Prisoners. You only perhaps would do violences. Peradventure you disdain that others should have the Valour to take Captive. But be it as it will, what ever depends on you, is grateful to me. Know that in reverencing you, and loving you, I yield not at all to the Brother whom you seek for. If I shall live, Fortune shall no more glory to behold you a Suppliant. Do you also exercise that pity which you have experimented in others.  
Floridea replied not. The bashfulness that soon shadowed her face, tied also her tongue. She bowed, kissing the Thracians hands, who would not resist it, to accreditate the beginnings of his Love to be of estimation. All the Prisoners came, among which, not perceiving the Duke, she afresh gave way to her tears. Dorcone omitted no diligence to have him sought for among the dead; but that not availing, he commanded Floridea should be kept carefully. He was in such wise enamoured on of her beauties, that without enjoying her, he persuaded himself he could not live. He willed that the Count of Ruffan●, under the species of comforting her should endeavour to render her persuaded to his pleasures  
This was an old man, blemished with the most enormous dishonesties. He had nothing in him but what was vice. Years that use to remember men of Repentance for their dissoluteness, in this man fomented sensualities. The fear of losing them, made him more covetous of enjoying them. By Arts the most dishonest he had got possession of his Master's Affections, who seeing him of Customs conformable to himself, could not but love him. His Vices raised him to that Degree of Honour; whereto others by virtue hardly arrived to by desire. This man that with a presence that counterfeiting goodness, would have beguiled wariness itself, entered to speak with Floridea, who sitting on a bed bewailed her infelicity. The first words were of Compliment; the Count saying: That by Commission from his Majesty he was come to comfort her; promising her (for his part) all diligence to search out all signs, that might discover her Brother. Floridea answered with so much the more humility; adding, that she was acconsolated in her Miseries, that rendered the Protection of such a King interested, and the good will of so worthy a Knight.  
The Count then taking occasion began to say to her: Lady, if your countenance gave me not evidences of your Wisdom, I should enforce myself with words to make you believe what a gift Fortune, through the merit of your beauties hath bestowed upon you. But acknowledging in your Arguings, that exceed the Discourses of those that have spent all the years of their life in Negotiations; I will only say, that Dorcone hath made you worthy of his affections, and of his Embraces. See how Heaven compassionates the Resentment of your tears, and how the Gods undertake the Protection of Beauty. I will not presume to persuade you, because I cannot doubt you will slight the love of a King, whom to enjoy, the Goddesses in Contention would descend from Heaven. These graces fall but on a few. To undervalue them, is to show yourself unworthy of them: and the rather, because it would be an ungrateful act, and dangerous to oppose yourself to the Desires of a Prince, who hath overcome all delays to favour you, and who may obtain that by force, which your wilfulness may deny him. Peradventure your Love may persuade him to greater matters. There are many Alexanders that espouse their servants. The Opinion of the vulgar, and of those in particular, that with deceitful names, and vain, betray the simplicity of maids, falls not upon Princes, that give Laws without receiving any. There is not any thing that is unconvenient to a King, so it be agreeable to his pleasure. I add no more; not to prejudice your Election, and not to steal from you that merit which your promptness to his Majesty's Desires may acquire for you.  
Floridea received so much displeasure at the words of the Count, that the fear to see herself exposed into the hands of the Enemies of her honour, could not make her forbear those words; which could not be spoken but with peril. Although necessity presented before her eyes the profit of Dissimulation; notwithstanding, she would not suffer that her tongue should seem base against those that tempted her in her reputation. Before she answered him, she stood a little in suspense, to premeditate a proper Reply, and to give way to her anger, that it should not stop, nor hinder her tongue. After she added;  
I answer you, (good old Man) that you might not believe I assented with my silence to those Proposals, unworthy of your age, and my reputation. You have ill employed those grey hairs, whilst you know not how to serve, but as a Minister of infamous Actions. I cannot persuade myself, that Dorcone would soil with blemishes the Graces he hath done me. I should be undeserving to have received them, if I had not his consent to maintain mine honour. I know not how a Carcase of Fortune's fury can allure the pleasure of a King. I rather believe it a treason of your perfidiousness, than a desire of his Majesty, who representing on earth the Image of the Gods, cannot incline his heart to such baseness. Every thing is lawful to Kings, because 'tis supposed, that a King will not put his hand into things illegal. He would be unworthy of this name, or to speak better, he would have nothing of a King but the name, who is not mightier than others in all the virtues. And though Kings may do what they will, yet honour is without their jurisdiction. I have an hand, which though it cannot resist the forces of another's incontinency, can nevertheless settle my honour in a secure place. I have not an heart that can suffer me to be dishonoured, nor hath your speech persuasion to make me such; your infamous employment for this time hath gained you nothing but the indignations of heaven, which by me shall be accelerated upon you, if I may one day sit upon the Throne of my Ancestors.  
The Count was not troubled at this refusal; being accustomed to know that women deny that with the greater earnestness which they the most ardently covet. He would not reply any thing to her, either not too much to provoke her anger, or to let her strive with her own affections; very well knowing that Ambition is the Tyrant of women. He acquainted not the Thracian with Floridea's backwardness, being confident to overcome her at the second encounter; not being able to persuade himself (by his experience in others, that a feminine bosom could long resist the strokes of Interest.  
In the mean while Dorcone spent the remainder of the day in consults about finishing of the War. All the Cities of the Kingdom, upon notice of the Thracians victory, fell voluntarily into the hands of the Conqueror. He looking on them all with a merciful eye did no hurt to any save to those of Cerannia. He made it be ruined to the Foundations, making all the ancient, and men fit to bear arms to be buried among those Ruins alive; making Slaves, on the other side, of all the Women and Children. The night that followed this slaughter was so replenished with Thunder, Lightning, and Thunderbolts, that it appeared that heaven agreed to foment the fury of the Thracians. Truly, it seemed that it would open Gulfs to bury those Wretches who found heaven and earth conspired to do them mischief. All the Poles and Tents of the Thracians were thrown down, torn, and scattered by the winds which blew with such a violence, that many times the Soldiers were not safe from their fury. There was seen to fly through the field an abundance of divers things, with such a confusion of the Army, that one Troop of horse would have been sufficient to have conquered them.  
The Guards that had the Custody of Floridea had left her; although those terrors would not suffer her to think of making an escape. The night grew more  with darkness, in such manner, that if it had been observed it calmed the winds, which being afraid of themselves had not the courage to press upon those shadows. Torches lighted in a great number through all the Army served not but to confound the sight the more. Floridea stood there in a great amazement when she heard herself called by name by a voice unknown to her. She was the more terrified believing it a Ghost; but persuading herself after that it might be the spirit of Viralto, which came to invite her to death, or to guide her out of the hands of those Barbarians, recovering a little courage, she asked what it demanded of her that it called her. That if it was a Ghost that intended to affright her, it was deceived, she being also reduced into that same state by her own grief, and the injuries of Destiny. But on the other side, if it was the shadow of him whom she adored, that she rejoiced at it, because she might make him see the greatness of her Love. She heard it reply to her: That he was a man that desired to deliver her from the captivity of those who every moment contrived treacheries against her reputation: that if she would secure her honour and her life, she should follow him in silence. Floridea obeyed, walking all that night, and esteeming any danger inferior to that which was threatened her by the Thracians. But she felt for all that an alteration of the heart so vehement, that she could not but prognosticate some ill to herself.  
They arrived at the mouth of a Grot, just upon that time that darkness vanished, disdaining perhaps to be trodden on by the horses of the Sun. There she suddenly perceived her guide to be Prodirto the Duke of Lassimano. He had continued in the Court after the departure of the Prince of Create. Knowing Viralto, he observed him daily, attending a time to revenge the offences received from him. The first day that Viralto assaulted the Thracians he took notice of Floridea: but made no show of it, waiting an opportunity for his designs. Seeing her enter among the enemies he followed her. He found no difficulty in concealing himself among such a multitude, having the habit, and the language of the Thracians. Taking the opportunity of those darknesses he led her into that Cave, very well known to him, into the which he had always retreated before he was wounded in that of Dianea. Floridea knowing him, received so grand a sorrow, that she fell in a swoone, with danger perhaps to have been killed among those Rocks, if the Duke had not received her between his arms. Being returned to herself, she said to him:  
Is it possible (O cruel one) that thou art not yet satiated with the infelicity of my fortune? Is it possible that thy barbarousness should not be extinct in the blood of my Father, and my Brother, and that it is not buried in the ruins of my house? Perchance thou hast stolen me from the Thracians, because thou fearest, that to torment me, they had not instruments more inhuman than those of thy perfidiousness. Wicked Traitor, unfaithful to thy Prince, and heaven, and thyself; preserved till now alive to accomplish only the high judgements of the Gods, who with the cruelty of the impious exercife the patience of the good. I cannot conceive how the the earth rendered execrable by the excesses of thy infamies, prepares not for thee at every step either a Precipice, or a tomb. You Thunders of Jove, that exercise the furies of your anger upon towers and mountains, infensible of your chastisements, why strike you not this perfidious, this wicked, this sacrilegious man.  
Prodirto, grown furious at these words, which, reproaching him for his enormities, could not be but displeasing, coming against her villainously, gave her many blows on the face, saying to her: Learn, impudent one, to injure those who so many times have preserved thee free from wrongs. Receive now the fruits of my anger, having not had the will to try those of love. Let your Duke of Filena come now to free you from him, who hath an heart more cruel against those he hates, than he hath it amiable to those he loves. Enjoy now my indignation, of the which I have showed myself so anxious. Because you have abhorred my embraces, having given up yourself to those of others: Now to thy double vexation I will take them more to triumph over thy obstinacy, than to gather the most vile leave of thy immodesties.  
Thou liest (O wicked man) replied Floridea; for there is not any that can boast himself over my honesty. But it is no wonder that a Traitor should take away the fame of those Princes whom he will murder. I care not that thou hatest me, equally despising both thy love and hatred. Distain (cruel man) thy hands in my blood: For I only remain a Remnant of the barbarismes of thy Infidelity. Thou hast reason to kill me, that I may not witness to the world that thou art the most infamous Traitor that lives.  
Then (added Prodirto, interrupting her) shall I neither have power nor punishment to bridle thy mordacious insolency. Dares then the Temerity of an impudent woman thus far! So saying, he began to strike her with so much anger, that the blood ran from many places. She schreeched out as loud as ever she could, rather to incense him more, than for any relief she might receive to her sorrow; were she secure of her honour, she would not have showed a resentment for all the mischiefs of the world; she much more feared the love of Prodirto, than the offences and injuries.  
Whilst Floridea with bitings, blows, words, and schreeches fomented the furiousnesses of Prodirto, Astidamo the Prince of Crete was brought into a grief not inferior to hers. In a short time he was carried to Crete, having in his voyage received no other discommodity than that which the absence of Dianea occasioned. Hefound them just a celebrating the Funerals of his Father and Mother, who both died in one day. He shown a passion only to deceive the observation of Subjects, who rejoice in the tenderness of their Princes. They seldom weep that by the death of their Parents obtain a Kingdom. Great gainings would stop tears in the eyes of pity itself. He suddenly appeased the alterations of the Kingdom, occasioned by those, who, by being of the blood royal, had had ambitious hopes for the Crown. The deaths of some the most culpable terrified the boldness of others. He forgot not to exercise his mercy towards the penitency of those which ran to his feet. He well knew that those Kingdoms were not stable which were builded upon blood. He had, under the pretence of reducing his Subjects to obedience, raised an Army worthy of his greatness. All hastened to serve him with Arms, Money, and Men, to gain a place in the affection of their new Prince. He, thanking every one, gave the highest Commands to those who had the vastest thoughts, not thinking himself safe by leaving them in Crete, lest in his absence they should attempt any Innovation. Making afterwards, with the greatest celerity possible, all the Ships and Galleys of the Kingdom to be prepared in readiness, and, embarquing all his Militia, he made them direct their Prores towards the Island of Cyprus.  
To avoid the injuries of heaven, he was compelled to take land in an Island uninhabited, with so much impatiency, that his complaints against the aversenesses of heaven was the least of his rave. Eight days were passed wherein the sea continued his fury, when a Longboat, guided by four Mariners, who fled from shipwreck, entered the Port: There was within it a Knight of no ordinary presence, who, with two Squires, rendered thanks to the Gods that they had escaped out of the hands of death. Astidamo went quickly to see them, and there knew the Knight, who was the Baron of Cormio, a Subject to King Vassileo. He enquired of him the news of Cyprus, and the causes of his voyage. He answered: That the King of Thracia, being displeased at the justice of King Vassileo against his daughter, was departed from Cyprus, with a resolution to return back with a powerful Army. That he had been sent in all haste into Egypt to procure Aid from that King upon any condition: that he had obtained it, the King of Egypt promising, in less than two months either to enter into Thracia to call back Dorcone to the defence of his, or else to come to Cyprus with a potent Flect. That returning joyful with this answer, he had been many days tossed by the seas, against which having neither force nor instrument to resist, perceiving themselves near that Haven they were abandoned beyond the hope of Fortune, who having spent all her rigours with the Ship which carried them (it being swallowed by the waves) afforded me here a landing place, and security.  
Astidamo could hardly suffer that he should give a period to his discourse, but he asked of what justice he spoke exercised against his daughter by King Vassileo. I (Sir) replied the Knight, would not weary you with a new Relation, supposing you had been fully informed of it, it being every where known, that King Vassileo understanding from his own Daughter herself, that without the assent of her Father, she was denated to a Marriage, he had made her be put to death in prison with a sorrow even to those who loved her not. You have killed me, replied Astidamo with a report so miserable. He had scarce said these words, but he fell down half dead between the Arms of his. Being returned to his senses. he gave himself over to tears and lamentations, with such a resentment of those that waited on him, that they would have esteemed to die the least expression of their sorrow.  
Fortune (he said) how dost thou know to torment this heart, which believed itself near to felicity. These Armies, this Militia which declare me one of the greatest Kings of the world, serve to no other end but to augment my affliction. If one undergoes a poverty contrary to his desires, he need not complain but of Destiny: but he that in wealth and power envies not the felicity of Jove, feels the greater torment, by how much the less he can satisfy his appetites. Every greatness hath its contraries, neither is there authority or power which are not exposed excessively to the anger of Heaven. I will not (friends) present my Griefs to you, for in the remembrance of it, perhaps my pain will be redoubled upon me, and I have more strength to endure it, then to express it. It should not be great, whilst my Tongue can conceal the greatnesses of it. And if by the extremity of it, I be not compelled to reveal it, I would not speak it, lest I should torment your minds with the effects of pity. Compassion would add ease to my sorrows, which my infelicity wills should torment me to an excess. To have Companions, which is a grand Consolation to the afflicted, is not convenient for him, who ought only to be tortured by passion. But why do I multiply in Complaints, having (to prove death in sorrow) designed to bury them in my soul!  
He accompanied these words with so many tears, and so lively resentments, that there was not any who would not have borne part of his Evil to have eased him. Now with a vehement Motion, and unquiet, he gave sign of the ardour he felt within his Breast. Now sitting , with an abundance of sighs he showed, that his soul tormented, gave signs of leaving the body. Now he fixed a great while his eyes upon heaven, as if he implored the aid of the gods, or rather that he complained of them that agitated him with so many infelicities. The night came on, which instead of affording himself rest, heaped afflictions on him. Those silences, and those horrors which usually lull asleep thoughts and sadnesses, could not now give a stop to the passions of a desperate heart. Rather under the shadow of night those dolours seem to be privileged; for the which the light of the day would have reproved him of shame. He went to bed, but could not lie in it, but by minutes. Having given a Command to his to withdraw, he went forth with the greatest secrecy into the Island, where giving his heart to the disposal of his feet, he was carried into the thickest part of a wood, in the which there was neither footstep, nor sign that any body came there. There not seeing any witnesses that might censure his passion, he bestowed upon grief all the tears his eyes could administer. There was a little Fountain with steps. Above it he cast himself in a careless manner; pouring forth so great a Lamentation, that his words came not out but broken and imperfect. When his heart could no longer supply water to his eyes, his tongue undertook their Office; he said:  
What wilt thou do, O King of Crect, the true scope of all the miseries of Fortune? What wilt thou do, the sole occasion of the death of the most beautiful woman, that Heaven, Art, and Nature agreeing could frame? What thing hitherto hast thou not felt? To what infelicity hast thou not been subject? Wretched, and miserable King, what thing more wilt thou wait for, what thing more wilt thou hope for? To what greater Calamities wilt thou reserve thyself? Dead is Dianca, Dianea is dead. Heart hast thou patience to suffer it? And hast thou Mouth the boldness to speak it? Pardon me, O happy soul, Pardon me; beloved soul, that I know not how to die at the news of thy death. Peradventure heaven would that thou shouldst live in me, the Cruelty of thy Father having denied thee to live in thyself, or rather it would honour thy Sepulchre with the tears of one who hath infinitely loved thee, and in whom his heart shall sooner die then his affection. I live by the severe judgement of the justice of the gods, who having known me innocently guilty, will nevertheless punish me, by not suffering me to die. Unhappy Dianea, slain and condemned by thy Spouse and Father! Miserable old man, why hast thou been willing to defile thy hands in the blood of thy Daughter? Cruel Father? wicked Father, Father unworthy the name of a Father; Where are such impious Cruelties practised? Impieties so cruel? An only Daughter of beauties so singular, that they would have awakened Emulation, and Envy in those of heaven, who in Prudence, and in the other Virtues, gave not pre-eminence to the wifedome of the most wise, he hath sacrificed to his fury. Then Errors, and the Errors of Love can find no pity in the affections of a Father. Why hadst not thou Parents so cruel, that thou mightst not have condemned thyself in the life of thy Daughter? But whither doth my passion transport me, and my grief? The Father hath not been the murderer of his Daughter; I am guilty of this crime, I have slain her, the sacrilegious blow proceeded from my hands. And guilty of such an excess. shall I live? shall it then be true, that I can endure the killer of Dianea to live? No, no Dianea: behold the blood of thy greatest Enemy, which is as voluntarily offered to thy death, as unwillingly he deprived thee of life. If among shades there is a correspondency of Affection, or memory of a Benefit, I hope that thou wilt be wholly mine, seeing with how much readiness, without sparing of my blood, I know to revenge thee.  
This said, he drew his sword, fetching some deep sighs, fixing his eyes on heaven: Now full of pity, now of fury, and set it to his breast to have slain himself. The which doubtless had happened, if a most beautiful Lady, who without being observed, had heard a great part of his Lamentations, had not stayed him, taking the sword out of his hand. He was so disposed to die, that he fell, without seeing who hindered him from it. Breathing a languishing sigh, he said: You do nothing that with an unsought for pity endeavour to save my life. It is a greater Commiseration to kill me, then to let me live, for that would be the only ease to my dolours. And besides, there is not any that can hinder desperate men from death.  
These words being finished, he fixed his Eyes on her, who having got his head into her Lap, enforced herself to consolate him. Knowing the Effigies of Dianea, he began to cry out; Now, (O Friend!) I am sure of the greatness of your affection, since you have not been unwilling to grace me with these last Offices. But why will you be cruel to me with a pity, which doubly torments me? I cannot outlive you, neither can I live without you. Dianea her tears for a while being stayed, answered him; Friend, if you desire the Company of Dianea, live! For I am alive. Astidamo perceiving that it was not a Ghost, as at first he was persuaded, and that the Reports of her Death were false, having forgotten in a moment his passed Commotions, so gave up himself a prey to Joy, that he had like to have perished; so great a swooning coming upon him that it possessed all his senses.  
After his spirits were recovered, they fell to embrace, with that tenderness of affection as their affection could express. They gazed upon one another, not crediting the truth, their hands, nor their eyes. They multiplied their embraces and kisses, nor had afforded an end to those Consolations, if the day being much spent, they had not been come upon by the Knights, who were in search for their King, not without doubting some misfortune.  
Then they redoubled their joys, his showing Dianea to them, whom with so desperate accents he had bewailed as dead. They all came to kiss her hands, reverencing her as their Queen. With these welcomes they retired to the Fleet, and the Tempest being ceased, Astidamo gave order for departure. But before they undertook their Voyage to Crect, Dianea gave an Account how she escaped the Anger of her Father, and how she fled fram the Dangers of Death.   

The History of Dianea's Escape.  
MY Father (she said) was obstinate in his Resolutions to make me assent to Nuptials with the Thracian. I to render him diffwaded, used all those Means, and all those Arts, which were subministred tome by necessity and love. All was in vain, for being the more exasperated he came to force me. Then esteeming silence a greater crime than the former, I cast myself at my Father's feet, giving him a Relation of our amorous practices, yet prosecuted with promise of marriage. My Father altered in such manner, that consigning me to the Council, he would that the Law should be observed, which condemned all those to death, that born of Royal blood, presumed to marry themselves. For me there was no pity. Those of the Council endeavoured all ways to save me, but they could not obtain from the King that the Law should be altered. The Duchess of Delprato obtained through favour to be my companion in my Sepulchre.  
They use in Cyprus (and I believe it is known to you) to bury those who have any Characters of Nobility, in a vault under ground, one or more persons of those who loved them best in life, continuing there a year. The Duchess feigned, that one of my Damsels was elected for her Companion in this Function, who of Counsel in the Intention of the Duchess, deceived the Executioner of the sentence, making herself took in my stead. The Duchess gave an appearance to the Deceit, scattering so many Tears, and such Sighs, that they deafened the Air. She acquainted me with it just at that time, wherein prepared to die, I had not an hope to comfort me. She made me put on the  of the Damsels, and I entered with her into the Tomb, which was prepared for me.  
The Report of my death was spread over the whole City with an universal sorrow. There was not any that made doubt of it, whilst my own Father believed no otherwise. I remained so buried many days, with such a passion, that I should rather have chosen death a thousand times. Finally, one night, (though there was never known neither Light nor day) we found by chance a secret Portall, which led into a Grot. Having lighted a Torch, we walked to see the end; It brought us into a field near the Sea shore, there finding by chance a Vessel which was upon sail, we went toward Crect, with the thought of finding you.  
Fortune, that knows to show herself an Enemy to the most just desires, made us fall into the hands of Traute, a Pirate. He scarce saw me, but he had a design of me, believing me Daughter to the Duchess, for such I always gave out myself. A great deal of his fierceness being laid aside, he requested my affection with such humility, that I wonder in myself how for love he could be separated from himself. I, inanimated by his humiliations, entreated him for a time to be able to dispose of myself to his will. Having obtained this occasion of delay, I got the Duchess to speak to one of the Pirates, who next to the Traute was in chief Command. Our enterprise being in good order, and our hopes agreeing, the Dutchels taking Pilane aside (for so was the Pirate named) she said to him:  
Son, I will not speak at large because time permits me not. I would not that my tongue should make jealous so many eyes, and so many ears as observe us. My daughter is ardently enamoured of you; she hath perceived that you have not disdained to look on her with some liking, whereupon she gives you to understand that she will rather make an election of death than consent to be another's. She beseeches you therefore, if her affection be pleasing to you, to defend her from the violences of Traute. He daily assaults her, and if your valour doth not oppose it, he will shortly use force. Then henceforward it will be your thought to prepare a defence for those things which are dedicated to you, and not to stain your honour with the infamy. That things recommended to your protection should become a prey to the insolency of others.  
These words in such manner won possession over the heart of Pilane, that he answered: Mother, I thank you for the occasion you have presented me to quiet my heart, which already I have sacrificed to the beauties of your daughter.  
If Traute will contend with me for her, he shall prove what the force in the breast of a Lover can do. In this mean while, to avoid the injuries of heaven, and the sea, which threatened death to the most dauntless, we retired into this Island in a Port habited. Here was a Supper prepared, where all the Pirates sat down, willing also that we should sit; when they were full of meat and wine they fell into a thousand dishonesties, and Traute by force cast his arms about my neck espying me near him. Pilane plucked him back by the arm, saying to him: Traute, That prey belongs not only to you which is made common to all. At thy pleasure thou shalt be Patron of the things which belong to thy part, not of those which not being divided appertain to all; you have been chosen the head, but not a Tyrant, and you not observing the Laws of your election, neither am I bound to observe those of obedience.  
Traute, not accustomed to injuries, being enraged by wine, threw at him a great Bowl of silver, saying to him: So the rashness of those is to be corrected who refuse to obey. This offence was not without resentment, because Pilane, who stood upon wariness, wounded him with a knife in the breast, and killed him. The others suddenly betook them to Arms, and they being almost all overcome with wine, their strokes were not but mortal. I then said to the Duchess: Mother, Let us go hence not to remain a prey to the Conquerors. My fear carrying me into the thickest part of the wood, I believed that the Duchess followed me, and was not ware of it, but after a great while that she had not been with me. The grief I had at it I leave to them to consider, who knew how well I loved her. I would to have found her have turned thence back again, but night coming upon me I could not. I continually wandered, my passion keeping me in a perpetual motion. Lastly, called by your tears I have found my Astidamo, than whom, through the benignity of the Gods, I could not attain to a grace more desired, nor more unexpected.  
Here she was silent, redoubling her Embraces; Astidamo not being able, but with multiplied signs of consolation, to express the joy which his heart felt. He sent many Knights in search of the Duchess, who returned without having received any notice, yet the comfort to see themselves united mortified in great part the grief they received at such a loss. For all this Dianea would not departed thence before some Galleys had took a circuit round the Island. They returned with news of the death of the Pirates, but there was not any that could give them notice of any thing else. Lastly, they appointed their departure towards Crete, so invited by the sea and the winds which recalled them to their voyage.  
Floridea, in the mean while ploughed in a Sea more perilous and fierce, with making resistance against the forces of the Duke, she was become so strengthless, that already her hands strove no more for victory agaist the Ardour of that impious man who attempted to dishonour her. Her mouth, that with bite had afforded defences to the purity of her heart, could scarce utter some languishing Ah me! which being echoed to by those Rocks would have mollified the Duke himself, if that love and disdain had not estranged him from himself. He having scratched her face in many places, which was an adjunct to the horrors of his fierceness, continued to strike her with such an unmercifulness that I know not how his hands were not affrighted at so infamous a wickedness. There were no more defences in the miserable Floridea; Her flesh either black or torn, her hair was ruffled and rend; Her eyes, enlanguished by grief and tears, durst not look up not to see the Testimonies of her shame; Her spread Arms gave boldness to that impious man to redouble his Assaults the more.  
He was now ready to steal the fruits of his love, when those languishing voices called a Knight to their protection, who seeing those violences, and knowing to whom they were used (accidents not being able to raze from the memory of Lovers the remembrance of the beloved) he began to cry to the Duke that he should stay, if he would not be slain as basely as he was employed. Prodirto changed his anger into fury, there being not a mightier passion than for that which retards the delights of the sense; whereupon he said:  
Knight, you shall feel the reward which those gain who with rashness intermeddle in the businesses of others. So saying, he gave him a thrust, which his arms falsifying made a little wound. That hurt cost him dear, for he suddenly found himself struck on the head, from whence began to run a great abundance of blood. For all this Prodirto shown no signs of Cowardice, now rewarding, and now warding the blows of his Adversary. He used dexterity and strength accordingly as his judgement gave rules and advertisements to his hand. The Vows of Floridea, with which she strove to supplicate the pity of the Gods, promised her no other victory but that of hope. They were both wounded when they drew back to take wind. The Knight blaming his weakness, which suffered him not to attain the victory, cried out, O Gods, what judgement may be form of your providence, whilst you refuse to assist to the protection of those who defend justice! One only man, spotted with the most unworthy Characters of infamy, hath strength to put me in danger of my life, not only not to overcome. With these vows he ran to assail the Duke, who knowing him by his voice, was daunted in such manner, that having no longer the heart to defend himself, he would have fled away, but the Knight prevented him, for with two redoubled blows he took away his life.  
This end had Prodirto the Duke of Lassimano, a man of inimitable conditions, if dishonesty and ambition had not been predominant. In foreign Wars he gained no ordinary name, and in his Country he had not Equals. In battles it was not discerned which was the mightier in him, either Prudence, or Fortune. His Countenance shown the ferocity of his heart, though his Fortune and Eyes manifested his perfidiousness. Of his Customs it is not able to frame a judgement. He was bold in his resolutions, neither trusted he secrets but to himself. He found death from his hands for whom he evermore had woven snares.  
Floridea cast herself at the feet of the Knight, who making himself known to her for Viralto, (who, having escaped from those that kept him, was come thither by chance) there was not any external sign which she made not to declare her joy. She wept, swooned, cried out; and with centuplicated embraces it seemed that she would make herself one with her beloved. These first impetuousnesses being passed over, she said:  
Supernal Gods, that by your unknown wisdom from poisons extract Antidotes, and from Lamentations joy; I know not how to render you thanks for so many felicities which have conquered my desire. If all these words were souls, and all they consecrated to your honours, they would not be sufficient to tender you thanks for such a benefit. Because by your goodness every the least expression is accepted of, I have humbly thank you, O Celestial Deities, O Supreme Intelligences. From you I acknowledge my life, the which only to day I have learned to desire. To day new borne I begin to live. To live with the torments of an amorous passion hath no other of life but the name and the opinion. The streightnesses of the World, the contempts of Love, the anger of Destiny, the loss of my Father, and Brother, and of my Country, have been all instruments to felicitate me. There is not any that should complain of ill. Mortals accuse not Fortune as the Minister of your infelicities; for the providence of the Gods knows how to draw Ashes from Glory, and Glory from Ashes. Whilst she said these words, she hung about Viralto's neck, and it seemed that with a covetousness of desires she was insatiable to all the demonstrations of joy, or rather that she would hold him so embraced, as if she doubted the truth of her sight and feeling. They waited for the night, to departed thence with the greater security, because the Thracians held all the Island.  
In this mean while King Vassileo maintained himself with the Relics of a beaten Army and driven into Arsinoe from moment to moment expecting death. After the imprisonment of Viralto, he gave the Command of the Army to the Count of Salinera, who for wisdom and affection had few Equals in the service of his Prince. The Count having regard to the weakness of his men, had no other thought but to defend the Wells from assaults. He had neither Forces, nor the boldness to join Battle with them, who rendered audacious by Victory, and their number boasted themselves invincible. The great abundance of Provision that was within Arsinoe, suffered not the besieged to feel the incommodities of a siege. On the other side, the Thracians being become secure by the dauntedness of their enemies, wore away all their days in Chases or Banquets.  
One day the two Princes of Missia and Epirus, the Infante of Macedonia, with many others of the chief of the Army, met together in the Scythian Kings Pavilion. Heated with meats and Wine, they fell into divers Discourses. How much the more Fire is suppressed, so much the more it operates with greater force. Some proposed, what was the most unbeseeming thing for a Knight? The doubt displeased not, because there was not any that feared to have in himself any thing unworthy of a Knight. The Opinions were as various, as were the Genius's, and the humours of those that discoursed.  
The Scythian, accommodating his words to his heart, said; To fly from Dangers is the indelible blemish of a Knight's Reputation: Who would not encounter death, hath not an undauntedness: who hath not that fear, and who fears is base; and Cowardile is that, which above all things is contrary to the Glories of a Knight. A Knight ought not to suffer injuries, no not from those who are much his Superiors in Fortune. If he encounters not dangers to prepare a Revenge, he blemishes his name with notes of Infamy. When perils enforce a Knight to make Resistance, it is pure necessity, not valour. He ought to exceed others, who would be greater than others, He that with a virile leas●reness waits that Fortune should present him Subjects to try himself, is obliged to Fortune, not to himself. Even Cowards sometimes will maintain a Bustle. In brief, the animosity to create perils, is the prime glory. As to attend that Chance, should deliver a City into his hands, is the mightiest shame to a Knight. Even the Sun would merit Reproaches, if with a precipitate and continual motion, it should daily seek for dangers among shades. In achieving is honour, and in things hard by others, immortality.  
The Infante of Macedonia said; That so high Rewards being due to faithfulness, he could not persuade himself, that more  things could be in a Knight then infidelity. This would soil the lights of the Sun, not only the Actions of men. An unfaithful man is abhorred by all, because all fear his Treacheries. Faithfulness is a thing sacred, the first daughter of Jove, the honour of men, and of the gods. Without this neither the earth nor the sea would enjoy any peace. It is a particular Deity, which resides silently in those breasts that possess it. A man otherwise void of this, may be termed a Carcase: And less, he is more vile than nothing. The Damages of Infidelity are much more mightier then that which can be conceived in the mind, or expressed by the tongue.  
The Count of Tinia would that it should be Ingratitude. And what other (said he) can contaminate the birth and the virtues of a Knight, but Ingratitude, abominable in all. A Knight is elected to chastise those that acting ungratefully, offend Heaven, Nature, and their Friends. Now how much the mightier will his Reproach be, when he falls into that vice the Trespasses against which he is made choice of to punish▪ All other faults carry with them some excuse, or some Appearance of Reason. Only Ingratitude hath no pretence that can excuse it, hath no reason that can defend it. It is a vice so detestable, that it becomes even odious to those that exercise it. Whoever is unthankful is unsaithfull, be-because he rebels against those obligations which he owes to the favours of others. He is cruel, because he torments the Liberality of those to whom he is known beholding. In sum, all Vices are seen in ingratitude, and therefore an unthankful Knight is unworthy of the name of a Cavalicre.  
The Baron of Cardia maintained that Cruelty was the most blame-worthy thing in a Knight. Cruelty (he added) is the most certain Portent of, or Folly, or of Covetousness. To be short, all Vices are Vices; but Cruelty holds the pre-eminence. It spoils, unbowels, unsoules the world. It is the worst of all things, by reason that from it all the worst things proceed. Who is cruel, is vile, a desire of Blond not reigning but in those Bosoms which are corrupt. He is an enemy of Nature, since he procures the Destruction of his own species. He offends the Gods, that with pity only have gained divine Attributes. He injures himself, because by the death of others he robs himself of those Duties which would have afforded him a superiority among others. Lastly, he is the worst of Animals, the which although they be void of Reason, are not nevertheless without pity.  
The Prince of Missia, with his usual mordacity said; That Love was the most detestable thing in a Knight. This (cried he) is that that disturbs the Intellect, that contaminates the Reason, that tyrannizeth over the Will, and that makes a man different from himself. Who loves, betrays himself in the tyranny of a face, who knows not to obey any thing, but affections, nor knows not to be faithful but to those who always betray. Love is a species of Infamy, since it subjects the will of that heart to the which the Gods have prescribed no laws, but voluntary.  
The Prince of Missia ushered in these Reasons with a laughter,  with contempt, holding his eyes continually fixed upon the Prince of Epirus. He who in his own conceit was lost in love, thought that those words wounded his Reputation, so much the more, because upon him all their looks were cast, as upon himalon who was subject of this Discourse. He having no longer sufferance to see himself injured, interrupting him, said to him: Prince of Missia, if your declare your Opinion without thought to wrong me, I shall take no Resentment at it, because the Table even permits those things, which should not be spoke. If I have loved in Excess, I repent not; because my Affections have not been unworthy. Who is so bold to reprehend me, lies, and peradventure blames love, because he is unworthy to be beloved. Declare yourself then, because I am not accustomed to be reproached, and in particular by you in these Errors.  
The Prince of Missia answered: I spoke by Chance, dictated by Reason. But that you should not believe that I say this for fear of your Anger, I will make it good with my sword, that having loved without Moderation, you have done a thing unworthy of a Knight; and therefore merited for it a public reprehension. The Prince of Epirus, let him not finish these words, but drawing (in disdain) his sword, he flew towards the Prince of Missia, who doing the same, met him. The Tables went suddenly to the ground, and all those Knights with their naked swords interposed themselves to quiet them. The two Princes notwithstanding, stayed not a jot, both desiring that the death of the one should serve as a Victim to the Revenge of the other. They bestowed their blows at random, holding equally all those for their Enemies, who for all they interposed themselves, shown themselves Neuters. Clamours already were multiplied, and Fame spreading the wounds and deaths of these two Princes, enforced all to betake them to their Arms, with a Confusion equal to the Peril.  
Dorcone, at notice of this, came into the place of Contention. The two Princes seeing the King, drew back, but not laying aside that Ire, which in their hearts was implacable. He being informed of the Cause of the Quarrel, endeavoured by all means to persuade them to peace. But all became fruitless, by reason the Prince of Epirus would that he of Missia should unsay whatever he had spoke to injure him. On the other side, the Prince of Missia pretended he would not give satisfaction to him, because from himself he had received injuries. Finally, the Thracian having no greater authority over them, then that which they were pleased to let him have, was content that within public Lists they should determine their Quarrel.  
With all speed all retired to their Tents to arm them, whilst a most large place was prepared for the Combat. Ten thousand soldiers, with the Baron of Racara, had the Guard of the Camp, to the end that they might not permit, that either by word or sign the Combatants should be favoured. The Soldiers ran in strife to get the best place, as if that Battle was made to delight the sight. Some in their desires favoured the Prince of Missia, others him of Epirus, accordingly as these Princes suited to the Genius of those, who for the most part love and hate without reason.  
But the wiser sort notwithstanding abhorred that fight which could not be determined but to their own damage. The Victory either on the one, or the other fide, could not but prove funebrous.  
In this mean while, there was heard to proceed from the Pavilion of the Prince of Missia, such clamours, that they seemed to deafen Heaven. This was the occasion of it: The King of the Scythians had with his own hand armed the Prince, taking notice of all the Arms with a diligence not ordinary, when he said to him; Prince of Missia, you are to fight against the most courageous sword of the world. The Prince replied, having his heart and eyes without fear: May be you have an ill opinion of my valour? The Scythian answered, I know you are of such a Generosity, that you yield not to any whosoever; but nevertheless, you are to combat against one, who hath had more Victories than Foils; and this makes me presage your destruction.  
The Prince was altered at these words, whereupon he said; If you had loved me, you would have had a more worthy an opinion of my valour. Auguries so infelicious, (although despised by my undauntedness) settle me in a mind, that you are interested with my Enemies, and that you come to tempt me to Cowardice, to advantage those with terrifying me. The Scythian, not accustomed to permit, that the pride of his heart should lend an ear to such like Reproaches, added; I would to Heaven Prince that your hand corresponded to your tongue, and that you were as valorous in striking, as you are in speaking. Notwithstanding, if Fortune favour you with Victory, I will that you shall render me an account of what you have spoke, more confident in my patience then your valour. The Prince replied, that then and always he would make him know, that he spoke unworthily, putting into doubt his force, and his undauntedness. The Scythian was not longer able to refrain, but with his shut hand came against the Prince, who laying hand to his sword, began to lay at him with many blows. The Scythian had nothing but a sword, and yet he defended himself so well, that for the most part he deceived the eye, and the hand of the Prince.  
Dorcone arrived just upon that time there, when tardency could not but be perilous, because the Soldiers of the Prince, and the Scythian, were run with Arms to aid their Lords. The Thracian attempted by all means to appease them, making use of both his authority and entreaties, when in the Tent of the Prince of Epirus the like shoutings were heard: arising from a Contention, perhaps greater than the former. The Prince of Epirus was armed by the assistance of many Knights, which reached him, and looked to his Arms. The Infante of Macedonia, willing to give him his sword, saw that it had written on it; The Sword of the Heirs to Mars. With a mighty earnestness he requested how he attained the possession of that Sword. The Prince answered, that the King his Father had won it by strength of Arms, killing a Knight that wore it. The Infante added, I know not Prince, whether you understand the secret of this sword. This is a gift which Mars was willing to bestow on his Posterity. To me it belongs more than to any other. By my paternal and maternal Line I am descended from the God of War. To those that would have a larger Information, I engage myself to make this good by strength of Arms. Provide yourself therefore of another Sword, for this shall not go forth of my hands but with my soul.  
The Prince full of indignation, taking a Lance, would have struck the Infante, who being ware of it, made the Blow prove in vain. After they continued fight, there being not any that had the courage to interpose, the pity of many having taugt others, that there is not a greater Folly, then to procure the safety of others with danger to themselves. Dorcone ran thither, leaving in the Prince of Missia's Pavilion, the Duke of Nicopolis, that he might not suffer any Inconveniency to ensue. He proposed a thousand Offers, mentioned infinite ways to pacify them. He interposed Entreaties, and desired time to decide their Controversy; but all was in vain, whilst obstinate, they would then put an end to their Quarrel. The Infante was content to lend him the Sword, so it were requested with some humility. The Prince answered, that all the force of the world should not be sufficient to make him desirous to borrow that which absolutely was his own.  
On the other side, Dorcone, leaving here such a Guard, that he might fear no worse, would have the Advice of his Counsel upon this. Whilst the Baron of Falarta bore now from one side, then from another the Commissions of the King for the decision of so many differences, he met with a mightier than the others. He hasting by his Majesty's Orders, a Dog of the Infante's of Armenia's ran under his Legs, and made him fall to the ground. The Baron changed at this accident, and so much the more, perceiving the laughter of the bystanders, and of the Infante in particular: whereupon drawing his Sword, at one blow he killed the Dog. The Infante conceiving the wrong to his Dog done to himself, gave him a stroke with such a violence, that the Spectators doubted of the Baron's life: He, avoiding the blows, withdrew from the Assaults of the Infante, who, with that his fury had no other effect, but to gain ground on the Baron, at the same time tiring himself out of breath. The Baron resolute to strike, not according to the impetuousness of his anger, but conformably to the rules of occasion, expected that this fury should weaken his Intellect and strength. When he perceived his strokes grew more faint and slow, he drowned his sword in the body of the Infante, fixing him to earth in an estate neither to entreat for, nor to receive his life.  
The Armenians, not able to endure so funebrous a spectacle, took arms to revenge the death of their Prince. The Thracians did the same to carry the Baron out of danger. All the Camp betook them to Arms, making slaughter of all those which would make head. The Prince of Epirus and Missia had opportunity to meet, notwithstanding that the Scythian and the Infante of Macedonia ran always between them. The Soldiers were all crowded up to help their Princes, laying upon one another with so much cruelty, that a greater they could not have used towards their enemies. Being enclosed within the Lists, and in their Tents, they were slain without resistance, so straight a place not able to contain such a multitude. They that were trodden under foot were more than the wounded, men and horses contending with an equal feracity. The Squadrons were in a manner united, so that there was not room to retire or fly. They strooke with their bodies no less than with their weapons. In so closed a fight there was no other hope but to die. All equally were enemies, and many times the Soldier killed him who had saved his life. Nothing was heard but confused cries, languishing schreekes, that, mixed with the noise of Arms, form to the ear a sound most dreadful which threatened death.  
The Thracians, by reason they were the greater in number, made the more slaughter of the others, although also they made the greater loss: Dorcone cried out, but was not heard, he was not obeyed. He used all means to appease that uproar, but it availed not; for they obstinate in fight attended not to any thing he said.  
Is it possible (he cried) that you will with your own bloods give the victory to your enemies? What Anger, what hope, what reward enforces you to be cruel against your friends? Employ those weapons with a more meritorious violence against those who laugh at your furies. What Deity constrains you to sacrifice yourselves here to death? What barbarismes? What foolishnesses are these? What Fate wills it, that the besieged should enjoy their security by our perils? Shall then a simple indignation, sprung by chance, do more than an inveterate hatred of your enemies? You cannot be overcome but by yourselves. Would you then that the Foe should triumph over you long of yourselves? Vent your rage against those who from the Walls look for safety from our harms.  
These words nevertheless prevailed not any thing in those minds, which encruelized had not distinction to know their madness. The complaints, and the voices of the wounded did not allay at all the fury of the Combatants, rendered incapable to obey, and to command. All those Princes rushed into the Squadrons, by main force routing them, not taking either example, nor moderation by the misfortune of those that were fall'n before them. The Thracians many times endeavoured to draw out of the Rampires, obeying more to the hand than to the voice of the King; but the Soldiers of the Armenian, and the Scythian, with those of the other Princes permitted them not. The Infante of Macedonia and the Prince of Epirus, many times meeting, and many times parted by the great Crowd, fell, upon one another afresh. Perceiving that to use their swords was impossible, they closed, each striving to cast his enemy. They both fell, nor could they rise again, this being the last fall to them. The Press was so great, that whosoever fell was not in a state to rise, fining a Sepulchre many times before death.  
The Scythian, who ran formidable, carrying terror by the most illustrious blood, met with the Prince of Missia, who wheresoever he passed left always signs of his valour. Both of them seeing they were so near (every other enterprise being cast aside) turned against that which they most hated. That Tragedy had not presented a Scene more funebrous. Before he strooke, the Scythian said: Now thou shalt pay for the contempt which with thy speeches thou hast given to my Counsels and Affection. A Boy might well receive directions from a King that loved him. I hope shortly to make you see that it had been better for you to have been born without a tongue. Thou shalt not have friends, neither the protection nor authority of the King which shall hid thee from the fury of this sword. The Prince answered: In truth thou art come at this time to receive chastisement for thy pride. I know thou desirest I were timorous and base, because thy particular knowledge of thy own debility made thee fear one day the undauntedness of this heart. They replied no more, because with their swords they began to work treason to their lives. The strength of their Armours made many of their blows fall in vain, although from many places they drew blood. They were so straightened by the multitude of Soldiers, that they could only strike with their fists. This nevertheless they did with such a strength and anger, that, their Armours being bruised, they were both desperate of their lives. Throwing aside their swords, they drew their knives, with which they left not any place of their Armours which they attempted not to kill by. The Scythian was more fierce, and the Prince more discreet, so that no advantage was known between them. Finally they resolved to overcome or die. The Scythian strooke the Prince in the groin with cutting the buckles of his Armour, the blade entered into his bowels. He feeling himself slain strooke the Scythian in the throat, between the joining of the Breastplate and the Helm. They both fell to the earth, breathing forth their souls, which without doubt will renew the fight, if hatred and anger are nourished among the dead.  
Dorcone, seeing this Battle so obstinate, endeavoured by his utmost power to make his men draw out of the Rampires. Lastly, it succeeded, though he was divers times in danger to be overpressed. Two hours only remained to the day, when with his head and his hand unarmed he began to pacify the Soldiery, who being advertised of their peril, began in a great measure to calm their anger. But their miseries were redoubled on them, when they were certified that Fire had taken possession of their Fleet. Such a multitude of Galleys were on a sudden come upon them, that the Thracians not having time to weigh Anchor, or to retire into the Sea, were become a prey to fire, which in a mighty quantity was thrown upon them. Although the distance was of many miles, those terrors were nevertheless heard, which declaring the burning rendered the damage irreparable. Their fear was increased upon them, when they understood that the enemies who had made the fire, in a grand number being landed, were marching thence to fall upon them.  
This was Astidamo King of Create, who, joyful that he had found her alive, without whom he could not live, had resolved to return into his Kingdom. Whilst they were in their voyage, by ask after news, they understood the destruction of the Kingdom of Cyprus made by the Thracians. That all the firm land of the Island being lost, Arsinoe only held out besieged by so many Arms, and so many Armies, that it could but a little longer resist the force of so many enemies. That the Armeniuns, the Scythians, the Macedonians, with many other Princes, had declared themselves against King Vassileo, and to their detriment had raised Money and Soldiers. Dianea at these news was not able to stop her tears that in abundance fell to vent forth the passion of her mind, casting herself at the King's feet, she said to him:  
I supplicate Astidamo, over whom my affection presumes to find some desert. Sir, If I should not love my Father I were unworthy to be yours, and in the same time to live. You yourself would but be a shadow of that heart that had not affections for him who hath given me my being. If I had no other reason to love him, I have that of his begetting me to be yours. His having condemned me to death altars not my love. I rather glory to be daughter to a Father, who had rather punish his Child than derogate from Justice. That mind should not be but celebrated which condemns itself not to leave Crimes unpunished. At this present, that he is exposed to the invasion of Barbarians, to the power of the Thracians, who boast to impose servitude upon Cyprus, I beseech you, by that affection that interests you, to afford aid to my affairs, which at other times you have not known how to refuse to him. Permit not (O magnanimous) that these wicked ones should vaunt to have the Father of her Prisoner to whom you have acknowledged yourself so many times a Prisoner. Besides, how could you rejoice in my embraces which would be continually sadded by my fears? I need not add that the Kingdom of Cyprus is mine after the death of my Father, because where my entreaties prevail, it is not fit that Interest should plead a Title. So much the rather, because the greatness of your mind receives not an alteration from those lownesses that reign only in vulgar bosoms. I know if Cyprus should fall under the subjection of the Thracians, Crete would not be secure from the ambition of those who would enlage the mightiness of their Empire beyond the Confines of the World. But of this also I need not use a word to that heart which hath never been capable of fear, and which rejoices that others conquer to make his own triumphs the more glorious. Let this only be an Adjunct to the immortality of your name, that you have twice delivered Cyprus from the barbarismes of the Thracians, and given twice life to a King when he the least hoped for it, and lest deserved it. Dianea hath never entreated Astidamo without being heard. I assure myself the more in it, because I supplicate for a Father.  
Astidamo embraced her, saying to her: Dianea, I was unwilling to interrupt you, extremely rejoicing in your piety. The tendernesses showed toward your Father, confirms my opinion that you know how to love. I glory that the heavens have vouchsafed me the possession of a mind which forgets not the Obligations of Nature. Not to have a memory for injuries is proper to your generosity. The wrongs a Father doth, should not beget anger in those that receive them. The earth at no time hath reason to complain of the Lightnings that Jove throws on it. I will go to the succour of your Father, because it is not convenient, that any beloved by you should be in danger to be lost. I know that beauty will carry felicity into that Kingdom which undergoes so many miseries only by reason of your absence. He speedily commanded that their Voyage should be directed towards Cyprus; Fame giving out that having obtained a Wife he went to get possession of her dowry. To the Soldiers he promised the spoils of the Thracians, proposing one other interval to the victory but till he met with the enemy.  
Favoured by the Sea and the Winds, they arrived upon the Fleet, which under the Command of the Count of Brandilia was dispersed into the Ports without fear, and without defence. The Thracians beheld at one and the same time the Fire, Arms, and Death. The Count was busy in play with all the other prime men that had Command in the Fleet in a Galley far distant from the rest. Being informed of the fire, not willing to leave off play, he being a winner, commanded it should be quenched, supposing it kindled by accident through the carelessness of the Galeyots, or Mariners. Being assured the Navy was assaulted by enemies, now persuaded the winds could not have such force, he would not nevertheless stir, until the violence of the fire represented the inevitable danger to him. Then necessity rendering him a certainty of his neglect, he consented not to retire or fly, much more fearing the displeasure of the King than death. Perceiving the flames unextinguishable, and defence impossible, he commanded his Galliots they should charge upon one of those Galleys, whilst he himself resolved to die on the weapons of some worthy person. There was not any there that would understand, or that would obey him. Fear had so daunted the minds of them all, that to avoid the fire they leapt out to swim, finding no defence but in desperation. The slaughter was great, whilst both Elements conspired to the damage of the Thracians.  
Astidamo victorious, without delay made his Soldiers go a Land; understanding by his Scouts the discord that was in the Camp in the Enemy's Army, heightening his courage, he said to his:  
On O valorous! Let us pursue the Victory: Here is neither danger, nor labour in assaulting those who are overcome by their own discords. Being at division among themselves, they will bring confusion and terror among themselves. They were infinite in number, but there hath happened such a slaughter among them, that they will not any more have strength to make resistance. The prime Chieftains that rendered that Army formidable are killed by their own weapons, and the Gods would have made them all die so, had they not been willing to have afforded some glory to your valour.  
On, on (O valorous) take to heart the tears of Dianea, my entreaties, and your own reputation. Make a slaughter of these impious ones; kill them, for they would do the same to you if your virtue would permit them. To take a Prisoner is to add an impediment to you, and to save enemies. Spoils will not be wanting to you. These words being ended, which were attended by a felicious shout of all the Soldiers, he marched against the Thracians, who being got out of the Lists, were put into that order which sear, danger, and the shortness of the time would permit them.  
Dorcone, on the other side, inanimating, and exhorting his, said: See to what terms your particular angers have reduced you. Now by a general resolution repair that honour which in the opinion of men would be hardly censured of by reason of your rage. Although the past misfortune hath swept away a great part of our Soldiers, we are nevertheless yet the more in number. They would not have had the boldness to have affronted us without the advantage of our own differences. They have been invited by us, having built their hopes uponour ruin. Perhaps you believe the Cretans will venture their lives for an old man  with ingratitude: That they will die without hope of reward. They will hardly make trial of your force but they will supplicate us for pardon. If you have nor the heart to defend yourselves, you will be necessitated to die basely. We are encompassed by enemies; We must conquer or die. Call to mind your victories, and that you are in the presence of your King, who hath returned from all battles with honour.  
These and other words the Thracian used to encourage them. The fight begun, the two Kings of Crete and Thracia defended their right Wings. The left of the Thracians was maintained by the Duke of Nicopolis, whilst the opposite was commanded by the Count of Cornia of the blood Royal, and who among the Chieftains of Crete held the first place. Both the Armies fell to it with such an impetuousness, that the desperation of the Thracians was very easily discerned, and the boldness of the Cretensians. Ire from itself presented miserable speeches. Every thing was slaughter, every thing demonstrated death horribly. Dead bodies were seen in heaps, in mountains, without distinction either of their dignity or merit. The wounded fell upon the dead, and before they could die, they had the horror to see the destruction of a Parent, or a friend. Many unburied bodies the living buried. Blood fell in so great an abundance that the Soldiers could not keep their feet.  
The Count of Cornia shown proofs worthy truly of his valour, opening a way through the thickest, with the genuine fierceness of his heart. He encountered the Duke of Soitone. He turned upon him, willing to Nobilitate his Victories, by the death of some remarkable Person. He struck him with two redoubled blows upon the Helm, while not being able to resist such a force, gave way to the Iron to enter, making almost his life to follow them. The Count called out to his to strip him: but being treacherously wounded in the Flank by the Baron of Achialo, he was enforced to fall, with such a Resentment of his, that they killed the Duke, not yielding to take him Prisoner: for the which he used all Importunity, promising Mountains of gold.  
Astidamo, hearing of the death of the Count, became in such wise encruellized, that neither Prayers nor Lamentations had power to move him to pity. Shields and Helmets had no more resistance against his sword, then if they were of Glass. Every stroke felled to the Earth, or killed. By his look and voice he drove the soldiers before him, who equally dreaded his menaces, and strength: And for the most part, when his Sword fell upon them, they believed it a Thunderbolt.  
Also Dorcone rushed into the Troops, routing them with such a courage, that there was not any that fled not from his blows. He struck down, wounded, flew, and with a desperate resolution, abandoned himself into all dangers. Astidamo, who to attain to the Victory, knew the head of the Thracian was necessary, called him by name in the thickest Crowd of the soldiers. These words often, and often repeated, arrived to the Ears of Dorcone, who disdaining himself for being challenged the first, ran speedily thither, where Astidamo carried death, both in his Countenance and Sword. Before he would strike him, he said to him: Who art thou that hast the boldness to invite me to the Combat? Astidamo answered; I am he who am glorious by the death of thy Brother. O ye Gods, replied the Thracian, I render you thanks of passion, that I have suffered till now, since you have presented me the occasion to revenge that blood which was shed by so much injustice. To thee (O beloved soul) I offer up this victory, it thou disdainest not a Sacrifice so infamous. Astidamo replied not, but with his Sword, giving the Thracian a blow that made him a little wound in his Flank. On the other side, the Thracian struck Astidamo on the arm, so that the blood issued forth in great abundance.  
Whilst these Combated, Victory turned her back upon the Thracians, who by little and little drew back, retreating. All their Chief were either slain or wounded. Whereupon, not having any that should awaken their Courages, they began to be disordered, and to fly thence, whither they were transported by their fear; Which increased much more upon them, when King Vassileo, not pardoning those years which necessitated him to repose, marched out with the Count of Salinera, falling upon the backs of the Thracians, who being so intercepted, knew not whither to fly thence. The burning of the Fleet, and the cry of Soldiers, confused by the fragour of Armours, carried into Arsinoe, the state of the Enemy, who nevertheless took on them a Resolution to issue out, not willing to overcome without danger, neither without labour. Here the slaughter was more than great, because the Thracians shut up into the midst, knew not how to get off, becoming of Besiegers, the Besieged. They knew not what to do, but to cry for Quarter, and throwing down their Arms to embrace the feet of the Conquerors. All the Standards were laid on the Earth, and the Companies no longer acknowledged their Officers. There was nothing else heard but indistinct Cries and pitiful of the overcome, which inhorridated the air.  
Death and Fear had deprived the Thracians of all Resistance, so that excepting Dorcone there was not any that made head, at the least not to die cowardly. The Thracian perceiving himself encompassed by so many victorious soldiers, said to Astidamo; You confess your baseness, that you have not the boldness to overcome me one to one. Astidamo answered; Let us withdraw aside: for I would that you yourself should be judge of it. This said, he commanded his, that they should not offend him, receiving many times on his own Shield, the strokes of those that ran solicitous to wound him. They went forth together, retiring after many Compasses into a Valley, which enclosed round by some Hills, made show as if it were so shut up for some Fight. Here than they stayed to renew the Assault.  
They began then afresh to strike with so much Anger, and so much Force, as if then only they gave beginning to a Battle. Astidamo rendered vain all the blows of his Adversary, knowing him of great strength. Now he fenced, now he bowed, now with his Sword he put by the Thracians; whose Valour being in great measure decreased, by a continual toil, his blows were not but weak. Whereupon, Astidamo, although wounded in many places, preserved the more his mind, and his courage more; Feigning he would strike Dorcone on the face, he wounded him in the Hip, who grown furious at it, made in a moment a wound on Astidamo's Head.  
They both lost blood, and leaving warding, and the rules of a Duel, they attempted not but to kill. How much the more the fight wanted of Art, it was so much the more perilous and mortal. The Fury in those debilitated strengths than began to languish, when Astidamo wounded Dorcone in his Breast, in that part the nearest to his Heart, plucking back his Sword all bathed in blood. The Thracian fell, but with that heart that feared not death; helping himself with his left hand, he stood to his Guard, resting on a knee. Astidamo admiring at the virtue of such a man, said, Yield (O Generous) since that Fortune wils that thou shalt be overcome. The Thracian abusing that gentleness, which offered him the gift of his life, stuck his Sword into his Thigh, running it quite thorough. Astidamo grown furious, and crying; Is this the recompense of my Mercy, thrust his Blade into the sight of his Helm, which could not resist the force of an Arm, moved by a most just Anger. The Thracian died, when Astidamo, not having strength any longer to stan, fell likewise down, ready to die, not leaving any distinction to know the Victor from the Conquered.  
King Vassileo in the mean while remaining with the Cretensians master of the Field, gave leave to the Soldiers, that they might enrich themselves with Plunder and Prisoners. This Victory in such wise rejoiced the mind of the Citizens, that there was not any of them, who enjoyed not part of the fruit of the Victory. The weakest old men could not stay in the City, nor the infirmest Company of Women and Children. Every one ran out to get some prey of the spoils of the Enemy. The Prisoners were without number, and the booty was above value. So rich preys, never Cyprus nor Crect had enjoyed.  
King Vassileo, seeing the Crown settled on his Head, and those destroyed that attempted on his Kingdom, and life; would be informed, if this succour was dropped from Heaven. When he understood, that that Army belonged to Astidamo, King of Crete, he was assaulted by grave thoughts. Peradventure, he had a fear equal to that he had had of the Thracians. He knew that Enmities with Kings were not appeased, but with blood. He very well remembered, that he had forbidden him the Court with terms more than severe: And that by the condemnation of Dianea, he had expressed signs of the hatred he bore to the Kingdom of Crete, unwilling to endure her in life, who had presumed to match herself with his Enemy. He feared these succours aimed not but to oppress him; the Armies of Potentates not moving, but upon grand Interest. Nevertheless, dissembling those Passions, which permitted him not to enjoy the joys of the Victory, leaving to the Count of Salinera the Command of his men, with some few of his, he went in quest of Astidamo, willing by a demonstation of Confidence and Affection, to mascherate his diffidences, and his fears.  
Astidamo, not being to be found in the field, he imagined he was retired to the Navy.  
He took his way thitherwards, but being something near, he espied a Lady, who by her fashion and motion, made a grand Pomp of herself. Approaching nearer, and descrying the likenesses of Dianea, he cried out: What is this that is made an Object to my eyes? Are these Dreams or Phantasms, that occupy my Cognoscitive virtue? This was Dianea, who hearing of her Fathers coming to the Navy, was descended thence to meet him.  
Suddenly, as he drew near her, prostrating herself at his feet, she said to him; Father, I am that unhappy Dianea, who have demerited your affections. I have lived, not because I have deserved life, but because Destiny hath been pleased to make me an Instrument for your security. Excuse me (O Father) if by my presence I am come to funerallize the joys of your Victories. But in Consolations, Favours, and Graces are dispensed: I supplicate you therefore, (most benign Father) for pardon. Forgive by your favour the Errors of that heart that hath offended you, not to injure itself. It is true, I have loved the King of Crect, and I could not but love him, he having elected me for his Consort. I conceived it a greater Crime to deny him, then to afford him my affection. Who ever knows Astidamo, and loves him not, knows not who deserves Affection. Father, excuse my tongue, that presumes to run so much in the Applauses of Astidamo, for I know not how to honestize my Error better, then by exalting the Prerogatives of him, who hath made me commit them. I should plead something in Excuse of my fault, if I could repent me of it. I know not how to acknowledge a penitency for such an Excess, since from thence the Defence of your State, and the safety of your person is derived. Behold, (O Father) at your benign feet, Dianea, who until now, through your displeasure confesses herself unhappy. Behold her at your feet, who though condemned by you, hath not therefore refused to love you. Let my sorrow to have provoked your indignation make amends for what I have trespassed in. Awaken (merciful Father) those Affections to which Nature obliges you. Remember that you are a Father, and that only I can preserve alive the memories of your greatness; suffer not (affectionate Father) that your Daughter Dianea should supplicate and weep without being heard.  
King Vassileo, that hitherto remained oppressed by a not known alteration, shedding so many tears, that one might even say, that the snow of his head thawing issued through his eyes, with a very great affection cast his Arms about the neck of Dianea; saying to her: Oh! Of how many victories to day have the Gods been favourable to me! Beloved Dianea, lay aside those sorrowful remembrances which perchance may render my presence odious to you. Let Oblivion take possession of all things past. I receive you for my daughter with a double consolation, having so many times bemoaned you for dead. Believe me, I have received punishment for the sentence fulminated against you, because a Father is condemned in the guiltiness of a Daughter. But where is Astidamo, to whom we profess ourselves doubly engaged, both for your preservation, and my life? To this purpose I came to the Navy. We are a severe Judge, but not an ingrateful Prince.  
Dianea replying the same solicitousness, not knowing what was become of Astidamo, began to suspect some ill. She used all diligence to have a certain account. Many of the chief spread themselves through the field to direct them the way, when they were turned aside by the slaughter of their enemies. Others with lighted Torches disquieted the dead, with a fear to find him whom they sought for. The night was much spent, when the report was that Astidamo was found dead not far off of the field. Fear carried the news of it to the ears of Dianea, who, with an inquietude equal to the love she bore him, gave command that the authors of the report should be found; she heard too much of that she would not from two Soldiers who had found him by chance, and were come thence to acquaint their Captains with it.  
His death divulged, and the night assisting these cruelties, rather amplifying into worse all that Fame delivered, there was to be seen in the faces of all signs of sadness and displeasue. The voices of the Soldiers were in such wise heated, that, abandoning their Ranks, and not obeying their Officers, they knew not what else to do but with horrible exclamations to lament and sigh. There neither Ostentation nor Adulation had place, for they felt a mightier passion in their souls than they could express with tears. The Army now appeared a Desert for silence, now an hell for the cries that were heard there. All the Soldiers in Arms with lighted Torches roared out the world was ruined, all their hopes were destroyed, with a behaviour so licentious, that King Vassileo was in some hazard of his life.  
Dianea, after the manner of one distracted, ran crying, Where art thou O friend? Who hath had the presumption to ravish thee from me? You tutelar Gods of Cyprus, how have you a sufferance at these injuries which this death hath administered? Is this the recompense he receives for his Labours, his Assistances, his Love? Most unjust heaven, since that evermore against him thou hast produced malign Influences. O inconstant Fortune, what avails it me to have escaped from the anger of thy punishment, to have fall'n into the hands of him whom I adored, to have delivered my Father from his enemies, and my Country, to have obtained a pardon for the errors of my heart, to have twice beheld the destruction of the Barbarians; if finally these joyful remembrances serve to no other purpose but to infelicitate me!  
Unhappy Astidamo, dead without the last embracements of Dianea. But how could he have been able to endure the presence of her, who hath been the cause of his death? To save my Father, I have killed him. Then could not I gain my Father without the loss of my Husband, nor enjoy my Spouse without the loss of my Father. O rigours of Destiny! O inexorable necessities of Fate! Trust yourselves O mortals in the graces of that blind Goddess that affords prosperities, to the end that with greater oppression we may receive her discourtesies. I having freed my Father, seen the Thracians destroyed, and having attained to the Title of the Queen of Crete, and of Princess of Cyprus, believed I was not subject to the instability of her inconstancies. But these highnesses have proved no other but instruments to precipitate me the more.  
So saying, she arrived where Astidamo lay. Then, redoubling her tears and sobs, it seemed that her heart would issue through her eyes, or that she would altogether distil herself into tears. She said sometimes, when her lamentation allowed her an interval:  
Unhappy Dianea, who could have presaged to thee an object so infelicious? The fear of Lovers, which presents to the Intellect, things which befall not under sense, could not, no, not by the assistance of sleep could not have presented Scenes so unlucky. Who could have made my eyes believe thy presence would have proved offensive? O beloved, O delighted in, O desired Astidamo! I should number up thy beauties, and thy perfections ravished from me in that time wherein I chief hoped to enjoy them, but I will not render the Parcaes more proud of so worthy a Rapine. Pardon me, if, having a mind to follow thee, I rob from thy memory the due Tribute of my tears. 'Tis true, I ought to love life only to bewail thee, but I know the Recordancie of thy virtues have no need of Commiserations; who knows not eternally how to lament Astidamo, will wear the brand of the punishment not to have known him.  
With these and the like conceits Dianea bemoaned herself, not permitting that her words should come forth but accompanied with tears and sighs. That hot humour which bubled from her eyes, falling upon the face of Astidamo, gave some spirit to him; whereupon opening his lips languishingly, he sent forth a sign. Dianea perceiving that messenger of life, using violence against her grief that rendered her desperate, having taken some part of comfort, began to say to him:  
Beloved Astidamo, observe the Exequys which Dianea celebrates to thee with lamentation. Friend, abandonate not Dianea, for Dianea will not forsake thee alive or dead. Astidamo opened his eyes, but was again enforced to close them, made heavy and troubled by weariness, and the abundance of blood he had lost. The Surgeons came, who found his wounds perilous, but not without hope of life. They only bound them up, applying Remedies and Lenitives to the sword of the Thracian, to the astonishment of those who knew not the secrets of Nature, and the power of Sympathy. Wounds are healed with medicining the sword of him that made them, without the pain of the patiented, and without the violences of those remedies which render a thousand times to the Infirm, death desirable.  
He was brought into Arsinoe upon the arms of his. Being left to repose, the Physicians commanded that he should not be disquieted for any accident whatsoever. Dianea notwithstanding would wait at his bed all the remainder of the night. Ever and anon she stole to the Curtains, doubtful of some new fainting, and fearing lest Destiny again should ravish him from her. He languished between sleeping and waking, and it was near upon day, when he had not opened his eyes, neither had any knowledge where he was, nor of who attended on him. His voice was languishing and imperfect, so that his words proceeded so ill composed, that they were hardly distinguished by ears, the nearest to him.  
As soon as he could discern Dianea, who by main force kept back her tears, he said to her; Friend, do not doubt of my life: For I cannot die having you near me. Afterwards, understanding the destruction of the Thracians, obtained with little loss to his, and the discourse of King Vassileo with Dianea, in a great measure he gathered strength, and gave signs of recovery. The Surgeons having found in the Arms all the best tokens, promised him sound within the space of a few days.  
The people then, and the Soldiers, receiving a certainty of this, gave themselves up to rejoicings. Some walked to the Temples to render thanks to the Gods. Others seeming mad for joy, ran up and down the streets. Divers studied Epithalamiums, and Panegyrics. Many prepared for Banquets. All finally embracing their Friends, and rehearsing to others that which all knew, redoubled their Consolations. Yet there was not any that equalled the mind of King Vassileo, and of Dianea. The first time the King visited Astidamo, he said to him: Friend, The affection you bear this house doth not allow me the occasion to pass into the duty of an excuse. Who knows how to oblige without hope of reward, can also suffer ill satisfactions without disdain. I make preparations for the Nuptials of Dianea, not to give you that which is yours, but that in the celerity you might take knowledge of my heart.  
So the Espousals were hastened on with that solemnity which is proper to so grand Princes. There was not a Pomp that could be equalised to this. The superbiousnesse of Asia, and the rarities of Africa here demonstrated the extremes of their power. In the Temple of Venus the Ceremonies were celebrated. Afterwards attended by all the people, they returned to the Palace, wearing away many days in Banquets, and Tournaments. Their rejoicings were afterwards redoubled in the Childbed of Dianea; she was delivered of two Sons, who for valour and beauty need not envy their Parents. Dianea, being accounted of as an heaven, would also emulate it in Twins. I remit the relation of their glories to the Genius of some pen more sublime.    
FINIS.