The Palace of Pleasure Volume Ii Part 6

I know thy heart will not suffer thee to follow me, and yet if the same would serue thee, from whence shall I procure present shippinge? Vpon the Sea the Roman fleete beares swinge, vpon the land Scipio wyth hys Army occupieth euery Coast, and is generall Lord of the field. What then shall I most miserable and vnfortunate caitife do? for whilest I am thus makinge my bitter playnts, the night is past away, day light approcheth, and the bright shining mornyng begynneth to cleare the earth. And behold yonder commeth the General's messanger for Sophonisba, whom I must eyther deliuer into his hands or else commit her to present slaughter, beinge a.s.sured that she had rather make choise to dy, than fall into the Laps of the cruell Romans." Whereupon he determined to send hir the poyson, and for very sorrow fell downe vpon the ground like a man halfe deade. Afterwards being come agayne to him selfe, he cursed the Earth, the Ayre, the Fyre, Heauen, h.e.l.l, and all the G.o.ds of the same, and exclaming in lamentable wyse he called vnto him one of his most faithfull seruants, who according to the custome of those dayes, alwaies kept poyson in store, and sayde vnto him: "Receyue thys Cuppe of Golde, and deliuer the same with the poyson, to Queene Sophonisba now abiding within the City of Cirta, and tel hir that I with greatest good will would fayne haue kept the mariage knot, and the firste fayth whych I plighted vnto hir, but the Lorde of the Fielde, in whose power I am, hath vtterly forbidden the same. I haue a.s.sayed all possible meanes to preserue hir my Wyfe and Queene at liberty, but he which commaundeth me, hath p.r.o.nounced such hard and cruell sentence, as I am forced to offend my self, and to be the minister of mine own mischief.

Thys poyson I send hir with so dolefull Message, as my poore hearte (G.o.d knoweth) doth only fele the smart, being the most sorowfull present that euer was offred to any fayre Lady. This is the way alone to saue hir from the Romanes handes. Pray hir to consider the worthines of hir father, the dygnity of hir countrey, and the royal maiesty of the II. kings hir husbands, and to do as hir mynd and wil shall fansie best. Get the hence with all possible spede, and lose no tyme to do thys Message: for thou shalt cary the bane and present death of the fairest Ladye that euer Nature framed wythin hir fayrest mould." The seruaunt with this commaundment did departe, and Ma.s.sinissa lyke a Chylde beaten with the rodde, wept and cried. The messenger being come to the Queene, and giuing hir the cup with the poyson, declared his cruell amba.s.sage. The Queene took the poysoned Cuppe, and sayd vnto the messenger: "Geeue the king thy mayster myne humble thankes, and say vnto hym, that I receyue and Drynke thys Poyson wyth a wyll so good, as if hee had commaunded me to enter in Tryumph wyth Laurel Garlande ouer myne ennymyes: for a better gifte a husbande can not gyue to wyfe, than accomplyshment of a.s.sured fayth the funeralles whereof shall bee done wyth present obsequie." And sayinge nothynge else vnto the messenger, shee tooke the Cuppe, and mynglynge well together the poyson wythin, shee vnfearfully quafft it vp: and when she had dronke it shee delyuered the messenger hys Cuppe agayne, and layed hir selfe vpon hir bed, commaunding hir gentlewomen in comely wyse to couer hir wyth Clothes, and withoute lamentation or Sygne of feminine minde, shee stoutly waighted for approching death. The Gentlewomen which wayted vpon hir, bewayled the rufull state of their Maystresse, whose plaints and scriches were heard throughout the palace, whereof the brute and rumor was great. But the good Queene vanquished with the strong force of the poyson, continued not long before she died. The messanger returned these heauie newes vnto Ma.s.sinissa, who so sorowfully complained the losse of his beloued wife, in such wise as many tymes hee was lyke to kyll hymselfe, that hys Soule might haue accompanied the ghost of hir, whych was beloued of hym aboue all the dearest things of the Worlde. The valyant and wyse capitayne Scipio vnderstanding the newes hereof, to the intente Ma.s.sinissa shoulde not commit any cruelty agaynst hymselfe, or perpetrate other vncomely deede, called hym beefore him, and comforted hym wyth the sweetest wordes he could deuise, and frendly reproued him. The next day in the presence of al the army hee highly commended him, and rewarded him wyth the kyngdome of Numidia, geuing hym many rych Iewels and treasures, and brought hym in great Estimation amonges the Romaynes: whych the Senate and people of Rome very well approued and confirmed with most ample Priuileges, attributinge vnto hym the t.i.tle of kynge of Numidia, and freende of the Romaynes. Sutch was the ende of the vnhappy loue of kynge Ma.s.sinissa, and of the fayre and lucklesse Queene Sophonisba.

THE EIGHTH NOUELL.

_The cruelty of a Kynge of Macedone who forced a gentlewoman called Theoxena, to persuade hir children to kill and poison themselves: after which fact, she and hir husband Poris ended their lyfe by drowninge._

Bvt now we haue beegon to treate of the stoutnesse of certayne n.o.ble Queenes, I wyll not let also to recite the Hystory of a lyke vnfearfull dame of Thessalian land, called Theoxena, of right n.o.ble Race, the Daughter of Herodicus Prynce of that Countrey in the tyme that Phillip the Sonne of Demetrius was kynge of Macedone, tolde also by t.i.tus Liuius, as two of the former be. Thys Lady Theoxena, first was a notable example of piety and vertue and afterwardes of rigorous cruelty: for the sayd kyng Philip, hauinge through his wickednesse first murdred Herodicus, and by succession of time cruelly done to death also the husbands of Theoxena and of Archo hir naturall sister, vnto eyther of them being Wydowes remayninge a Sonne: afterwardes Archo being maryed agayne to one of the princ.i.p.all of their Countrey named Poris, of him she had many children. But when she was dead, the sayd Lady Theoxena hir sister, who was of heart more constant and stout than the other, still refused the second mariage, although sued vnto by many great Lordes and Princes: at length pityinge her nephewes state, for fere they should fall into the handes of some cruell Stepdame, or that theyr father would not bryng them vp with sutch diligence, as tyll that tyme they were, was contented to bee espoused agayne to Poris, (no lawe that time knowen to defend the same) to the intente she might trayne vp hir sister's children as her owne. That done she began (as if they were hir owne) to intreate and vse them louingly, with great care and industrie: wherby it manifestly appeared that she was not maried againe to Poris for hir owne commodity and pleasure, but rather for the wealth and gouernement of those hir sister's children. Afterwards Philip king of Macedone, an vnquiet Prince, determininge to make newe warres vpon the Romanes (then throughout the worlde famous and renouned for theyr good fortune) exiled not onely the chiefe and n.o.ble men, but almost al the auncient inhabitants of the Cities along the sea coaste of Thessalia, and theyr whole and entier families into Paeonia afterwards called Emathia, a Countrey farre distant from the sea, giuing their voided Cities for the Thracians to inhabite, as most propre and faithful for the Romains warres, which he intended to make: and hearinge also the cursses and maledictions p.r.o.nounced against him by the banished people, and vniuersally by al other, thought he was in no good surety, if he caused not likewyse all the sonnes of them, whom a litle before he had slayne, to be put to Death. Wherefore he commaunded them to be taken and holden vnder good gard in prison, not to do them al to be slain at once, but at times now one and then an other, as occasion serued. Theoxena vnderstanding the edicte of this wicked and cruell king, and wel remembring the death of hir husband, and of him that was husband to hir sister, knew wel that hir sonne and nephew incontinently should be demaunded, and greatly fearinge the king's wrath, and the rigour of his guard, if once they fell into theyr hands, to defend them from shame and cruelty, sodainly applied hir minde vnto a straunge deuice: for shee durst to saye vnto hir husband their father's face, that soner she would kil them with hir owne handes, if otherwise she coulde not warraunt them, then suffer them to bee at the will and power of kinge Philip. By reason wherof Poris abhorring so execrable cruelty, to comfort his wife and to saue hys Chyldren, promysed hyr secretelye to transporte them from thence, and caryed them himselfe to certayne of hys faythfull Fryendes at Athens, whych done wythoute longe delaye, hee made as thoughe hee woulde goe from Thessalonica to Aenias, to bee at the Solemnytye of certayne Sacrifices, which yearelye at an appoynted tyme was done wyth greate ceremonies to the honour of aeneas the founder of that Citty, where spendinge the time amonges other in solemne bankets, the thrirde watch of the night when euery man was a sleepe, as though he would haue returned home to his countrey with his wyfe and children, priuely embarked himselfe and them, in a ship hired of purpose to pa.s.se into Euboea, and not to retourne to Thessalonica. But his intent was cleane altered and chaunged, for his ship was no sooner vnder saile, but at that instant a contrary winde and tempest rose, that brought him back againe, in despite of their labour, and all the endeuour they were able to doe. And when daye lighte appeared, the king's garrison descried that shippe, and manned out a boate, to bring in the same, which secretly they thoughte was about to escape away, giuing them straight charge, that by no meanes they should returne without hir. When the boate drew neare the shippe, Poris bent him self to encourage the mariners to hoyse vp saile againe, and to make way with their oares into the Sea, if it were possible, to auoide the imminent and present daunger, to saue the life of him selfe, his wife and children: then hee lyfted hys handes vp vnto the heauens to implore the helpe and succor of the G.o.ds, which the stoute Gentlewoman Theoxena perceiuing, and manifestly seeing the Daunger wherein they were, callinge to hir minde hir former determinate vengeance which she ment to do, and beholding Poris in his prayers, she prosecuted hir intente, preparing a poysoned drink in a cuppe, and made readye naked swordes: al which bringing forth before the Childrens face, she spake these words: "Death alone must bee the reuenge of your siely liues, wherunto there be two wayes, poison or the sworde. Euery of you choose which ye list to haue: or of whether of them your heart shall make the frankest choice. The king's cruelty and pride you must auoid. Wherfore deare children be of good chere, raise vp your n.o.ble courage: ye the elder aged boyes, shew now your selues like men, and take the sword into your handes to pierce your tender hearts: but if the bloudy smart of that most dreadfull death shal feare and fright your greene and vnripe age, then take the venomed cup, and gulpe by sundry draghtes this poisoned drinke. Be franke and l.u.s.ty in this your destened Death, sith the violence of Fortune, by Sea, doeth let the lengthning of your life. I craue this requeste of choyse, and let not the same rebound with fearfull refuse of thys my craued hest. Your mother afterwardes shal pa.s.s that strayght, whereof she prayeth hir babes to bee the poastes: ye the vaunt currours, and shee, with your louing sire, shall end and finishe Philip's rage bent agaynst vs." When shee had spoken these woordes and sawe the enimies at hand, this couragious dame, the deuiser of the death, egged and prouoked these yong trembling children (not yet wel resolued what to do) with her encharmed woords in sutch wyse, as in the ende, some dranke the poyson, and other strake them selues into the body and by hir commaundement were throwen ouer boord, not altogether dead, and so she set them at liberty by death whom tenderly she had brought vp. Then she imbracing hir husband the companion of hir death, both did voluntarily throw themselues also into the sea: And when the kinge's espials were come aborde the ship, they found the same abandoned of theyr praye. The cruelty of which fact did so moue the common people to detestatyon and hatred of the kinge, as a generall cursse was p.r.o.nounced against him and his children, which heard of the G.o.ds aboue was afterwardes terribly reuenged vpon his stocke and posterity. Thys was the end of good Poris and his stout wyfe Theoxena, who rather then she would fall into the lapse of the king's furie, as hir father Herodicus, and hir other husbande did, chose violently to dye with hir own hands, and to cause hir husband's children and hir owne, to berieue them selues of Lyfe, whych although agaynst the louinge order of naturall course, and therefore that kinde of violence to bee abhorred, as horrible in it self, yet a declaration of a stout mind, if otherwise she had ben able to reuenge the same. And what coward heart is that, that dare not vpon such extremity, when it seeth the mercilesse ennimy at hand, with shining blade ready bent, to stryke the blowe, that withoute remedye must ridde the same of breath, specially when it beholdeth the tremblyng babe, naturally begotten by hys owne kinde and nature, before the face imploryng father's rescue, what dastarde heart dare not to offer himselfe, by singular fight (thoughe one to twentye) either by desperate hardinesse to auoyd the same, or other anoyance, aduenture what he can? which in Christians is admitted as a comely fight, rather than wyth that Pagane Dame to do the death it selfe. But now returne wee to describe a fact that pa.s.seth al other forced deedes. For Theoxena was compelled in a maner thus to do of meere constraint to eschue the greater torments of a tyrant's rage and thought it better by chosen death to chaunge hir lyfe, than by violent hands of bloudy Butchers to be haled to the slaughter. But thys Hidrusian dame was weary of hir owne life, not for that she feared losse of lyfe, but desperate to think of Fortune's fickle staye: whych if fortune's darlings would regarde in time, they would foresee theyr slippery holde.

THE NYNTH NOUELL.

_A straunge and maruellous vse, which in old time was obserued in Hidrvsa, where it was lawfull, with the licence of a magistrate ordayned for that purpose, for euery man, and woman that list, to kill them selues._

Bandello amonges the company of hys Nouels, telleth this history: and in his own person speaketh these words. If I should begin to tell those things which I saw in the tyme that I sayled alongs the Leuant seas, very tedious it would be for you to heare, and I in reporting could not tell which way to ende, bicause I saw and heard thynges ryght worthy to bee remembred.

Notwythstandinge, for satisfaction of dyuers that be my frendes, I will not sticke to reherse some of them. But first of all one straunge custome, whych in the Romayes tyme was vsed in one of the Ilandes of the sea aegeum, called Hidrusa, in these dayes by the trauaylers called Cea or Zea, and is one of the Ilandes named Ciclades, whilome full of Populous and goodly Cities, as the ruins therof at this day do declare. There was in olde time in that Iland a yery straunge lawe and ordynaunce, which many hundred yeares was verye well and perfectly kept and observed.

The Law was, that euery person inhabitant within the sayd Isle, of what s.e.xe and condition so euer, being throughe age, infirmity, or other accidents, weary of their lyfe, might choose what kind of death that liked them best: howbeit it was prouyded that the partye, before the dooing of the same, should manifest the cause that moued him therevnto, before the Magistrate elected by the people for that speciall purpose, which they const.i.tuted because they sawe that diuers persons had voluntarily killed themselues vpon trifling occasions and matters of little importance: according to whiche lawe very many Men and Women, hardily with so merry chere went to theyr Death, as if they had gone to some bankette or mariage. It chaunced that Pompeius Magnus the dreadfull Romane, betwene whom and Iulius Caesar were fought the greatest battailes for superiority that euer were, sailing by the Sea aegeum, arriued at Hidrusa, and there goynge a land vnderstoode of the inhabitantes the maner of that law and how the same day a woman of great worship had obteined licence of the Magistrate to poyson hir selfe.

Pompeius hearing tell hereof, was driuen into great admiration, and thought it very straunge, that a woman which al the dayes of hir life had liued in great honour and estimation, shoulde vpon light cause or occasion poyson her selfe sith it was naturally giuen to ech breathyng wyght to prolong theyr liuing dayes with the longest threede that Atropos could draw out of dame Nature's webbe. Whervpon he commaunded the said matrone to be brought before hym, whose Death for hir vertue was generallye lamented by the whole Countrye. When the gentlewoman was before hym, and had vnderstanding that she was fully resolued and determined to dye, hee began by greate persuasions to exhort hir, that she should not wilfully cast hir selfe away, vpon consideration that she was of l.u.s.ty yeares, riche and welbeloued of the whole countrey: and how greate pitye it were but shee shoulde renue hir Mynde and gyue hir selfe still to lyue and remayne, till Natural course dyd ende and finysh hir life: howbeit his graue and earnest persuasion could not diuert hir from hir intended purpose. But Pompeius loth to haue hir dye, cea.s.sed not styll to prosecute hys former talke with newe reasons and stronger arguments. All which shee paciently heard with fixed countenaunce, til at lengthe with cleare voyce and smiling cheere she answered him in this maner: "You be greatly deceyued (my lord Pompeius) if you do beleeue that I wythout very great prouidence and mature aduise goe about to ende my dayes: for I do know and am fully persuaded, that eche creature naturally craueth the prolongation and lengthninge of lyfe, and so mutch abh.o.r.eth to die, as the desirous to lyue detesteth the poyson whych I haue prepared for consumation of my lyfe. Whereupon as I haue diuers times thought, considered and discoursed with my selfe, and amongs many considerations oftentimes debated in my minde, there came into the same the instability and fickle change of Fortune, whose whirling wheele neuer cea.s.seth, ne yet remayneth stedfast. It is dayly seene how she doth exalte and aduaunce some man from the lowest and bottomlesse Pit, euen to the top of high Heauens, endowinge him with so mutch Substaunce as he can desire. An other that was most happy, honoured in this world lyke a G.o.d, vnto whom no goods and welfare were wantinge, who might wel haue bene called in his lyfe, a three times happy and blessed wyght, sodaynly from his honour and state depriued and made a very poore man and begger. Some man also, that is both riche and l.u.s.ty, accompanied with a fayre wyfe and goodly Children, lyuinge in great mirth and ioylity, this wicked Lady Fortune, the deuourer of all our contentations, depriueth from the inestimable treasure of health, causeth the fayre Wyfe to loue an other better than hir husbande, and with hir venomous Tooth biteth the children, that in short s.p.a.ce myserable death catcheth them al within his dreadfull Clouches whereby he is defrauded of those children, whom after his death he purposed to leaue for hys Heyres. But what meane I to consume tyme and words in declaration of Fortune's vnsteady stay, which is more cleare than the beams of the Sunne, of whom dayly a Thousande thousande examples be manifest: all histories be full of theym. The mighty countrey of Graecia doth render ample witnesse wherein so many excellent men were bred and brought vp: who desirous with their finger to touch the highest heauen, were in a moment throwen downe: and so many famous Cities, which gouerned numbers of people, now at this present day we see to be thrall and obedient to thy City of Rome. Of these hurtfull and perillous mutations (O n.o.ble Pompeius) thy Romane City may be a most cleare gla.s.se and Spectacle, and a mult.i.tude of thy n.o.ble Citizens in tyme past and present, may geeue plentifull witnesse. But to come to the cause of this my death, I say, that fyndyng myself to haue liued these many yeares (by what chaunce I can not tell) in very great prosperity, in al which tyme I neuer did suffer any one myssehappe, but styll from good to better, haue pa.s.sed my time vntil thys daye: nowe fearyng the frownynge of Ladye Fortune's face, and that she will repente hir long continued fauour, I feare, I say, least the same Fortune should chaung hir stile, and begynne in the middest of my pleasaunt life to sprinckle hir poysoned bitternesse, and make mee the Receptacle and Quiuer of hir sharpe and noysome arrowes. Wherefore I am nowe determined by good aduyse, to rid my selfe from the captivity of hir force, from all hir misfortunes, and from the noysom and grieuous infirmities, which miserably be incident to vs mortall Creatures: and beleeue me (Pompeius) that many in theyr aged dayes haue left their life with little honour, who had they bene gone in their youth, had dyed Famous for euer. Wherefore (my lord Pompeius) that I may not be tedious vnto thee, or hinder thyne affayres by long discourse, I besech thee to geeue me leaue to follow my deliberate disposition, that frankely and freely I may be vnburdened of all daunger: for the longer the life doth grow, to the greater annoysaunce and daunger it is subiect." When she had so sayd, to the great admiration and compa.s.sion of all those which were present, with tremblinge handes and fearefull cheare, she quaffed a great Cup of poysoned drynke, the which she brought with hir for that purpose, and within a while after dyed. This was the straunge vse, and order obserued in Hidrusa. Which good counsel of the Dame had the n.o.ble and valiaunt captayne followed, no doubt he would haue bin contented to haue bin brought to order: and then he had not lost that bloudy battel atchieued agaynst hym by Iulius Caesar at Pharsalia in aegypt. Then hee had not sustayned so many ouerthrowes as he did, then had hee not ben forsaken of his frendes, and in the ende endured a death so miserable. And for so mutch as for the most part hitherto we haue intreated of many Tragicall and bloudy chaunces, respyring now from those, let vs a little touch some medicinable remedies for loue, some lessons for gouernment and obedience, some treaties of amorous Dames, and hauty Gestes of Prynces, Queenes and other persons, to variate the chaungeable diet, wherewyth dyuers bee affected, rellishinge their Stomackes wyth some more pleasaunt Digestions than they haue tasted.

THE TENTH NOUELL.

_The dishonest Loue of Favstina the Empresse, and with what remedy the same loue was remoued and taken away._

True and most holy is the sentence, that the Lady, Gentlewoman, or other wyght of Female kinde, of what degree or condition soeuer she be, be she fayre, fowle, or ylfauoured, cannot be endued with a more precious Pearle or Iewell, than is the neate and pure vertue of honesty: which is of sutch valour, that it alone without other vertue, is able to render her that glistereth in her attire, most famous and excellent. Be she more beautiful than Helena, be she mightier than the Amazon, better learned than Sappho, rycher than Flora, more louinge than Queene Dido, or more n.o.ble than the best Empresse and Queene of the worlde, or be she full of any other vertue, if she want the name of chast, shee is not worthy so mutch as to beare the t.i.tle of honour, nor to be entertayned in honest company. Yee shall peruse hereafter an history of a Countesse of Celant, that was a pa.s.sing fayre Dame, singularly adorned with Nature's gifts. She was fayre, pleasaunt, amiable, comely, and perchaunce not altogether barrayne of good erudition and learninge: she could play vpon the instruments, sing, daunce, make and compose witty, and amorous Sonets, and the more her company was frequented, the more amiable and gracious the same was esteemed. But bicause she was unshamfast and lesse chaste, she was voyde of honest regarde. Sutch as bee dishonest, do not onely hurt themselues, but gieue cause to the common people to mutter and grudge at their parentes education, at their husbands gouernment and inst.i.tution of their Children, causing them most commonly to leade a discontented and heauy lyfe. Thinke you that Augustus Caesar (albeit he was a victorious Emperour, and led a triumphant raygne) liued a contented life when he saw the two Iuliae, one of them his daughter, the other his Niece, to vse them selues like common strumpets, constrained through their shameful acts to pin, and close vp himselfe, shunning the conuersation of men, and once in minde to cut his Daughter's Vaynes to let out hir l.u.s.ty bloud? Was not he wont (the teares trickling downe his Princely Face) to say, that better it was neuer to haue children and to be deade without them, than to haue a fruteful wife and children so disordred? He termed his Daughter to be a Carrion lumpe of fleshe, full of stenche and filthinesse. But if I list to speake of women of this age, from n.o.ble to vnn.o.ble, from an Emperor's Daughter to a Ploughman's modder, whose liues do frame after Iulia hir lore, my pen to the stumpes would weare, and my hande be wearied with writing. And so likewise it would of numbres no doubt in these dayes that folow the trace of Lucrece line, that huswifely and chastly contriue the day and nightes in pure and G.o.dly exercise. But of the naughty sorte to speake, (leauing to voyde offence, sutch as do flourish in our time) I will not conceale the Empresse Messalina, that was Wyfe to the emperour Claudius, not only vnworthy of Empresse degree, but of the t.i.tle of Woman: who being abused by many, at length arriued to sutch abhominable l.u.s.t, as not contented with dayly adulterous life, would resort to the common stewes, where the ruffians and publike harlots haunted, for little hire, and there for vilest price with eche slaue did humble herselfe: and at night not satisfied, but weared, returned home to hir Palace, not ashamed to disclose hir selfe to any that list to looke vpon hir: and for victory of that beastly game, contended with her lyke. But not to say so mutch of hir as I finde in Plinie his naturall history, in Suetonius, and Cornelius Tacitus, I leaue hir to hir selfe, bycause I haue made promise to remember the dishonest loue for example sake, which I read of Faustina, whose beauty of al Writers is vouched to be most excellent, if excellency of good life had thereunto ben coupled. She was the daughter and wyfe of two holy and vertuous Emperours, the one called Antonius Pius, the other Marcus Antonius. This M. Antonius in all vertuous workes was perfect and G.o.dly, and singulerly loued his wife Faustina, and although she was infamous to the world, and a Fable to the people, yet he cared not for the same, sutch was the pa.s.sing loue hee bare vnto hir.

Leaue we to speake of hir beastly behauiour amongs the n.o.ble sort, without regard vnto hir most n.o.ble husbande, and come wee to treate of a certaine sauage kind of l.u.s.t she had to one of the Gladiatores, whych were a certaine sort of Gamsters in Rome, which we terme to be Maisters of defence. She was so far in loue with this Gladiator, as she could not eat, drink, or slepe, ne take any rest. This Faustina was so vnshamefast, as not regarding hir state, being as I sayde before the daughter and wife of two most worthy Emperors, dysdayned not to submitte her Body to the Basenesse of one of the vilest sort, a Rascal Fencer, and many times would goe to Caieta, a Citie and hauen of Campania, to ioyne hir selfe with the galye slaues there. Hir husbande which loued her dearely, comfortying his feble louing wyfe so well as he coulde, caused the best Physicians he could finde, to come vnto hir for recouery of hir health. But all the deuysed physike of the world was not able to cure her, she was so louesicke. In the end knowing by long experience the fauour and loue hir husband bare vnto hir, and knowing that nothing could withdraw his continued minde, she tolde him, that al the torment and payne shee sustained, was for the loue of a gladiator, towards whom hir loue was so miserably bent, that except she had his company, death was the next medicine for hir disease. The good husband whych beyond measure loued his wife, comforted hir with so louing wordes as he could, and bad hir to bee of good cheare, promisinge hee would prouide remedy.

Afterwards consulting with a wise man a Chaldee born, opened vnto him the effect of his wiue's disease, and how she was louesicke with sutch a person one of the Gamsters of the City, promising great rewardes if he could by his secretes serche out redresse to saue hir life. The Chaldee could tel him none other remedy, but that he must cause the Gladiator to be slaine, and with the bloud of him to anoint the body of the Empresse, not telling vnto hir what the ointment was: which don, that he must goe to naked bed to hir, and do the act of matrimony. Some Historiographers do write, that the Chaldee gaue him counsell, that Faustina should drinke the bloud of the Gladiator, but the most part, that hir body was bathed in the same. But how so euer it was, it would haue cooled the hottest Gentlewoman's stomack in the world, to be anoynted with like Salue. To conclud the Gladiator was slayne and the medicine made and applied to the Pacient, and the Emperour lay with the Empresse, and begat hir with childe. And immediatly she forgot the Gladiator, neuer after that tyme remembring him. If this medicine were applied to our carnall louinge dames (which G.o.d defend) they would not onely follow Faustina in forgetfulnes, but also would mislike hir Phisike: and not greatly regard the counsell of sutch doctours. By meanes of this medicine and copulation was the Emperour Commodus borne, who rather resembled the Gladiator than his Father: in whose breast rested a storehouse of mischyefe and vyce, as Herodian and other Wryters plentifully do wryte.

THE ELEUENTH NOUELL.

_Chera hid a treasure: Elisa going about to hang her selfe, and tying the halter about a beame found that treasure, and in place thereof left the halter. Philene the daughter of Chera going for that treasure, and busily searching for the same, found the halter, wherewithal for dispayre she would haue hanged hir selfe, but forbidden by Elisa, who by chaunce espied hir, she was restored to part of hir losse, leading afterwards a happy and prosperous lyfe._

Fortune, the Lady Regent and Gouernesse of man's lyfe, so altreth and chaungeth the state thereof, as many times we see the n.o.ble borne from that great mighty port, wherein they be, debased so farre, as either infamously their lyfe is spent in the hungry lap of Dame Penury, or else contriued in the vgly lothsom house of Wantonnesse, the stepdame of all honesty and vertue. Sometimes we marke the vnn.o.ble ladde that was nooseled in the homely countrey caban, or rude ciuile shoppe, attaine to that whych the onely honorable and gentle do aspire: and he agayne that is ambicious in climbing vp the turning wheele, throwen down beneth the brink of aduerse luck, whelmed in the ditch and pit of black despaire. We note also sometimes that the carelesse wyght of Fortune's giftes, hath (vnlooked for) his mouth and throte crammed full of promotion and worlde's delights. Such is the maner of hir fickle stay: whereof this History ensuing, gyueth some intelligence, by remembring the destenied luck of 2 pore sory girles that were left dest.i.tute of desired things, both like to fal into despaire, and yet both holpen with that they most desired: which in this sort beginneth. In the time that Scipio Affrica.n.u.s had besieged the City of Carthage, Chera that was a widow (dwellinge there) seeinge the daunger at hand wherein the Citty stoode, and doubtynge the losse and ouerthrowe of the same, and that the honor of the dames and womankinde, coulde vneths be safe and harmelesse, determined not to abide the vttermost: and hauinge a good quant.i.ty of Gold and precious stones, she bestowed the same in a casquet, and hid it vpon one of the beames of hir house, purposinge when the stir and daunger was past, to retourne to hir house agayne for those hir hidden things. Which done, in the habite of a poore woman with her onely daughter in hir hand that was about 5 or 6 yeares of age, she went out of Carthage, and pa.s.sed ouer the Seas into Scicilia, where falling sicke, after she had bene there three or foure yeares, at length died. But before shee departed, shee called her Daughter before hir, then about Ten yeares olde, and told hir the place where she had layed hir Casket. And by reason of the victory gotten by Scipio, the city was maruellously chaunged, and amongs other things, the house of Chera was giuen to a Romane Souldiour that was so enriched with n.o.bilyty of Mynd, as hee was poore of Fortune's Goods. Whych Chera vnderstandyng, was sorowfull, and doubted of hir thynges secretlye bestowed vppon the beame. Wherevpon she sayd vnto hir daughter, that for so much as their house was in the possession of an other, she ought to be wise and circ.u.mspect in the recouerye of hir hidden goods: and that hir death was the more greuous vnto hir, because she must leaue hir (so yong a maiden) vnprouided of frendes for hir good gouernement. But yet she incouraged hir againe and sayd: that sith necessity approched, she must in childyshe age, put on a graue and auncient minde, and beware howe shee bewrayed that casket to any person, for that of purpose shee reserued the knowledge thereof, to hir self, that it might serue for hir preferment, and procure hir a husband worthy of hir selfe. And the maiden demaundinge the value of the same, shee told hir that it was worth CC.

Talentes, and gaue hir in writing the particulars inclosed within the Caskette, and that the lyke bill shee should find within the same, written wyth hir owne Hande. And so the good woman within a while after dyed, leauyng behynde hir the yong mayden hir daughter, that maruellously lamented the death of hir mother, accordingly as nature taught hir, and ech other reasonable wyght depriued from their dearest friends. The maiden for hir yeres was very wise, and would disclose to none what her mother had sayd, keeping the writing very carefully. Not long after Philene (whych was the maiden's name) fell in loue with a Gentleman of Scicilia of greate reputation and authority, who al bee it he saw hir to be very faire and comely, yet cared not for hir loue in respect of Maryage, for that hee knewe hir to bee poore, and withoute dowrie mete for a Gentleman, iestyng and mocking to see hir fixe hir minde on him, for desyre to haue him to hir husbande, that was a personage so n.o.ble and rich: which refusall pierced the hearte of the tender maiden, bicause she saw hir selfe forsaken for nothynge else, but for want of goods: whych made hir to think and consider, howe shee myght recouer the riches that hir mother had layed vp in Carthage. It chaunced as she was in this meditation, the daughter of him to whome the House of Chera was giuen, called Elisa, was likewise enamoured of a n.o.ble yong gentleman in Carthage, who bicause Elisa was the daughter of a Souldiour, and not very rich, in like manner laughed and iested at hir loue, no lesse than the other did at Philene. Notwithstanding Elisa attempted al meanes possible to induce the yong man to loue hir, but hir practise and attemptes tended to none effect. And last of all, desirous to haue a resolute answere, and thereby vnderstode, that he would rather dye than take hir to Wyfe, she fell into despayre and curssed fortune, and hir fate, that she was not borne riche enough to match wyth hir chosen Gentleman, and that she being poore, must fall in loue wyth sutch a personage: whereupon she miserably tormented hir selfe, still bewaylinge hir vnhappy lucke, that shee could not win him to be hir husband, for whych only intent and purpose she loued him. And this amorous pa.s.sion incredibly growing in hir, the rootes whereof be planted in the restlesse humor of melancholy, and wanting all hope and comforte to stay that Ranke and Rammishe weede, it so increased in her, as shee franticke in raging loue gaue hir selfe ouer to the spoyle of herself: and to rid her from the griefe, she determined to kill hir selfe, imagining whych way she might do the same. At length she was resolued, with hir father's sword to peerce hir body: but hir heart not seruing hir thereunto, deuised by the halter to end her lyfe, saying thus to herselfe: "Thys death yet shal do me good, that the cruel man may know that for his sake I haue done this fact: and if his heart be not made of Iron or steele, he can not chose but sorrowe and lament, that a poore mayde whych loued him better than hir owne lyfe, hath made sutch wretched ende onely for his cruelty." Elisa concludinge vpon this intent, prepared a Halter: and being alone in her house, in the chamber where the Casket lay vpon the beame, placed a stoole vnder the same, and began to tye the halter about the beame: in doinge whereof, she espied the casket, and reached the same vnto hir, who feeling it to be heauy and weighty, immediatly did open it, and founde the Byll within, which Chera had written with hir owne hand, agreable to that which she had deliuered to hir daughter, wherein were particularly remembred the Iewels and other riches fast closed within the casket. Who disclosing the bagges wherein the gold and Iewels were bound vp, and seeing the great value of the same, wondred thereat, and ioyfull for that fortune, hid the rope which she had prepared for hir death, in the place where she found the casket, and with great gladnesse and mirth went vnto hir father, and shewed him what she had found, whereat the father reioyced no lesse, then his daughter Elisa did, bicause he sawe himselfe thereby to be discharged of his former poore life, and like to proue a man of inestimable wealth and substance: and saw likewise that the poore wench his daughter, by the addicion of those riches, was like to attayne the party whom shee loued. When he had taken forth those bagges and well surueyed the value, to the intent no man might suspect the sodayne mutation of his state, tooke his daughter with him, and went to Rome, where after he had remayned certayne monethes, hee returned to Carthage, and began very galantly to apparell himselfe, and to keepe a bountifull and liberall house. His table and port was very delicate and Sumptuous, and hys Stable stored wyth many fayre Horsse, in all poynctes sheewinge himselfe very n.o.ble and rich: by which sodayne chaunge of state, the whole Citty beleeued that he had brought that wealth from Rome. And bicause it is the common opinion of the vulgar sort, that where there is no riches, there is no n.o.bility, and that they alone make men n.o.ble and gentle (a foolyshe Opinion in deede proceedinge from heads that be rash and light) the people markynge that porte and charge kept by the Souldiour, conceyued that he was of some n.o.ble house. And throughout the whole Citty great and solemne honour was done vnto him: whereupon the young Gentleman, with whom Elisa was in loue, began to bee ashamed of himselfe, that he had disdayned the mayden. Whych mayden seeing hir Father's house to be in sutch reputation, made sute to her father, that he would procure the Gentleman to bee hir husband.

But hir father wylled hir in any wyse to keepe secret hir desire, and not to seeme her selfe to bee in loue, and wysely tolde hir, that more meete it was that she should bee solicited by him, than shee to make sute or request for mariage: alleaginge that the lesse desirous the gentleman had bene of hir, the more deare and better beloued shee shoulde be to hym.

And many tymes when hys Daughter was demaunded to Wyfe, he made aunswere that matrimony was a state of no litle importance, as enduring the whole course of Lyfe, and therefore ought well to bee considered and wayed, before any conclusion were made. But for all these demaundes and aunswers, and all these stops and stayes, the mayden was indowed with an honest dowry, and in the end her louer and she were maried, with so great pleasure and satisfaction of them both, as they deemed themselues happy. In the meane time while these things were done at Carthage, Philene in Scicilia toke thought how she might recouer her goods geuen to her by her mother, desirous by their meanes also to sort hir earnest and ardent loue to happy successe. And debatinge with her selfe (as we haue sayd before) howe she might obtayne them, because the house was in possession of an other, thought it to bee agaynst reason and order, that although she had lost hir house, yet hir goods ought to be restored vnto hir, which were hir onely mayntenance and reputation, and the fittest instrument that should conduct her loue to happy ende. And hearinge tell that the Father of Elisa the possessor of hir mother's house liued at Carthage in great royalty and magnificence, thought that if by some sleight and pollicie she founde not meanes to enter the house without suspicion, hir attempt would be in vayne: determined therefore to goe to Carthage, and to seeke seruice in that house, counterfaytinge the kynde and habite of a Page. For she considered, that if she went thither in order and apparell of a mayden, she should incur the perill of her virginity, and fall into the lapse of diuers other daungers, purposed then to go thyther in maner of a Page and lacky. And when she had in that sort furnished hirselfe, she pa.s.sed the Seas, and arriued at Carthage. And seekinge seruice about the City at length chaunced to be retayned in a house that was next neyghbour to the Souldier, and bicause this wench was gentle and of a good disposition, was wel beloued of her maister, who being the frend of Elisa, hir Father many times sent vnto him diuers presents and gifts by Philene, wherevppon she began to be acquainted and familiar with the seruantes of the house, and by her oft repayre thyther viewed and marked euery corner, and vpon a time entred the chamber wherein hir Mother Chera {t}olde hir, that shee had bestowed hir goods, and lookinge vpont the Beames espied by certayne Signes and tokens, one of them to be the same where the Casket lay: and therewithal wel satisfied and contented, verily supposed that the casket still remayned there, and without further businesse for that time, expected some other season for recouery of the same. In the ende, the good behauiour and diligence of Philene, was so liked of Elisa, as hir father and she made sute to hir maister to giue hir leaue to serue them, who bycause they were his friends, preferred Philene vnto them, and became a page of that house. And one day secretly repayrynge into the chamber, where the treasure lay mounted vppon a stoole, and sought the beame for the casket: where she found no casket, but in place where that lay, the halter, wherwithal Elisa woulde haue strangled hir self. And searching all the parts of the Chamber and the beames, and finding nothing else but the halter, she was surprised with sutch incredible sorrowe, as she seemed like a stock, without spiryte, voice or life. Afterwardes, being come againe to hir selfe, shee began pitifully to lament and complayn in this maner: "Ah wretched Philene, vnder what vnluckie signe and planet was thou begotten and borne? wyth what offence were the heauens wroth, when they forced thee to pierce thy mother's wombe? Could I poore creature when I was framed within the moulde of nature, and fed of my mother's substance within hir wombe, and afterwards in due time brought forth to light, commit such crime, as to prouoke the celestiall impressions to conspire agaynst my Natiuity, to brynge mine increased age into such wretched state and plighte wherein it is now wrapped? No, no, my faulte was nothing, it was parent's offence, if any were at all: for many times we see the innocent babe afflicted for the father's guilt. The G.o.ds do punish the posterity, for som sacrilege or notorious crime committed by progenitors: theyr manner is not to suffer heynous faultes vnreuenged: their iustice cannot abide such mischief vncorrected for example sake: so fareth it by me. First my father died, after wardes my Mother a widow was driuen to abandon natiue soyle, and seeke reliefe in forrain land: and leauing that wherwith we were possessed in enimies keping, were forced a simple life to leade among straungers. And my mother, yelding forth hir ghost, made me beleue that shee had hidden great treasures here: and I vnhappy wench thinking to obteine the pray, haue wandred in counterfeit kind, and fetcheed many a bitter sigh, vntil I came into this place: and the thing I hoped for, which myght haue bene the meanes and ende of all my care, is turned to nothyng: a casket transformed into a halter: gold and Iewels into a piece of rope? Is this the mariage dowry (Philene) thou art like to haue to match with him whom thou so derely louest? Is this the knot that shall conioyne you both in yoke of man and wife? Ah wretch and miserable caitife, the goods thy mother layd vp for thee, for maintenance of thy rest, and safegarde of thine honour, and for the reputation of thy n.o.ble house, wherof thou camst, is now berieued from thee: they that kepe this stately house, and beare their lofty port amid the best, haue despoiled thee pore wench of that after which thou didst vainly trauayle. But what remedye now? sith thy wicked lot doth thus fall out, sith thy cruel fate is loth thou shouldest atteine the thing on whych thy mind is bente, and sith thy painfull lyfe can take no ende, make spede to rid thy selfe from misery by that meanes which he hath prepared for thee that hath found thy goods: who seeing his good aduenture to be thy bane, his happy pray to bee thy spoyle, hath left in lieu of treasure, a halter, that therwith thou mightest dispatch thy selfe from all thy griefes, and in their vnhappye companye to cease thy life, that the lothsom, lengthning of the same might not increase thy further plaints, sorowes, anguish and affliction.

And in the place where infortunate Philene toke hir beginning, ther the Miserable wretche must finishe that, which without hir desired gaine no longer can be maynteined. Peraduenture it may come to pa.s.se as when thy soule is losed from this mortall charge, it shall stalke by hym, by whom it liueth, and by him also whom she thought to ioy in greatest contentation that euer mortall woman did." And thus plaininge and sighing hir il fortune, when she had ended those words she tyed the halter about the beame, where sometimes hir Treasure lay, which beyng done shee put the same about hir necke, sayinge: "O crooked Lady Fortune, that hast thus vnfrendly dealt with thine humble clyent: Ah dispayre, thou vgly wretch and companion of the distressed that is vnwillinge to leaue my haunte vntyll thou playe the Hangman. Ah Dyuell incarnate that goest aboute to hale and plucke the innocent into thy h.e.l.lish caue. Out vppon the thou deformed h.e.l.lish dogge, that waitest at the fiery gate to lette them in, which faine would pa.s.se an other porte." And as shee was powrying forth these spitefull wordes, redy to remove the stoole to fetch hir swynge, the G.o.ds which would not giue consent, that the innocent wench should enter that vile and opprobrious death, moued the heart of Elisa, to pa.s.se by the place where she was in workynge on her selfe that desperate end: who hearing those moneful plaints vttred after such terrible manner, opened the Chamber doore, and saw that myserable sight: and ignorant of the occasion, moued with pity, ranne and stayed hir from the fact, saying thus vnto hir: "Ah Philene," (whych was the name that she had giuen to hir selfe) "what folie hath bewitched thy mind? What phrensie hath incharmed thy braine?

What harde aduenture hath moued thee in this miserable wise, to ende thy life?" "Ah" (sayd Philene) "suffer me Elisa, to finish my tormentes: giue me liberty to vnburden myselfe from the bande of cares that do a.s.saile me on euery side: lette these Helhoundes that stande heare rounde about mee, haue theyr praye for which they gape. Thou moued by compa.s.sion, arte come hither to stay mee from the Halter: but in doyng so, thou doest mee greater wrong, than doeth despayre whych eggeth me therunto.

Suffer I say, that mine afflictions may take some end, sith cruel fortune willeth it to be so, or rather vnhappy fate: for sowre death is sweeter in my conceit, than bitter life contriued in sharper sauce than gall or wormwood." Elisa hearing her speake these wordes, sayd: "For so much as thy myshap is such, as onely death is the nearest remedy to depriue thy payne, what wicked chaunce hath induced thee, in this house to finish those thy miseries? What hath prouoked the to sutch augury to this our most happy and ioyfull family?" "Forced is the partye" (sayd Philene) "so to doe when destenye hath so appointed." "What desteny is that?" demaunded Elisa. "Tell mee I beseech thee, perchaunce thou mayst preuent the same by other remedy than that whereabout thou goest." "No," (answered Philene) "that is impossible, but to satisfie thy request which so instantly thou crauest of me, I wil tel thee the summe of al my miserie." In saying so the teares gushed forth hir eyes, and hir voice brake oute into complaints, and thus began to say: "Ah Elisa, why should I seke to prolong my wretched life in this vale of wretchednesse, wherein I haue ben so miserably afflicted? my mother pitieng mine estate and seeynge me voide of frends, and a fatherlesse child vpon hir death bed, disclosed vnto me a treasure which she had hidden vpon this beam whervnto this halter (the best remedy of my misery) is tied: and I making serch for the same, in place of that treasure found this halter, ordeined as I suppose (by what misfortune I knowe not) for my death: and where I thought among the happy to be the most happy, I see my selfe amongs al vnlucky women to be the most vnfortunate." Elisa hearing hir say so, greatly maruelled and sayd: "Why then I perceiue thou art a woman and not a man."

"Yea, truly," answered the vnhappy mayden: "A singuler example of extreme misery to all sortes of women." "And why so?"

demaunded Elisa. "Bicause" (answered Philene) "that the pestilent planet vnder which I was borne, will haue it to be so." And then she told hir al that which had chaunced from the time of hir mother's departure out of Carthage, and how she went into Scicilia and recounted vnto hir the loue that she bare to a Scicilian Gentleman, and howe that he disdayning hir for hir pouerty, refused to be hir husband: whervpon to atchieue hir desire as loth to forgoe him, was come in maner of a page to Carthage, to recouer the riches which hir Mother had hidden there, to the intente she might obtaine (if not by other meanes) with som rich dowrie, the yong Gentleman to husband whom she so dearely loued. And then reenforcing hir complaint, she said: That sith Fortune had despoiled hir of that which might haue accomplished hir desire, resting no cause why she should any longer liue, the halter was prepared for hir to end her daies, and to rid hir life from troubles. And therefore she praied hir to be contented, that she might make that end which hir misaduenture and wicked fortune had predestinate. I doubt not but there be many, which vnderstanding that the treasure did belong to Philene, if they had found the like as Elisa did, would not onely not haue forbidden hir the Death, but also by speedy meanes haue hastened the same, for so mutch as by that occasion the hidden treasure should haue ben out of strife and contention: so greate is the force of couetousnesse in the minde of man. But good Elisa knew ful wel the mutability of Fortune in humaine thinges, for so mutch as she by seeking death, had fonde the thinge which not onely deliuered hir from the same, but made hir the best contented woman of the worlde. And Philene seekinge hir contentation, in place thereof, and by like occasion, found the thinge that would haue ben the instrument of hir death, and moued with very great compa.s.sion of the mayden, desired to haue better aduertis.e.m.e.nt howe that treasure could belong to her.

Then Philene shewing forth hir mother's writing, which particularly remembred the parcels within the casket, and Elisa seeinge the same to be agreeable to the hand wherewith the other was written that was founde in the casket, was a.s.sured that all the gold and Iewels which she had found, did belong vnto Philene, and sayd vnto hirselfe: "The G.o.ds defend that I should prepare the halter for the death of this innocent Wench, whose substaunce hath yelded vnto mee my hart's desire." And comforting the mayden, in the ende she sayd: "Be contented Philene, and giue ouer this thy desperate determination, for both thy lyfe shalbe prolonged, and thy discontented minde appeased, hoping thou shalt receyue the comforte thou desirest."

And with those words she losed the halter from hir neck, and takinge hir by the hand, brought hir to the place where hir Father and husband were, and did them to vnderstand the force and terms whereunto the fier of loue and desperation had brought that amorous mayden: tellinge them that all the treasure and Iewels which she had found (where she left the halter, and wherewith Philene was minded to hang hir selfe) did by good right and reason belonge to hir: then she did let them se the counterpayne of that bill which was in the casket, in all points agreeable thereunto, declaringe moreouer that verye lyke and reasonable yt were, like curtesie should bee vsed vnto her, as by whom they hadde receyued so greate honoure and delyghte. Her husband which was a Carthagian borne, very churlishe and couetous, albeit by conferring the writings together, he knewe the matter to be true, and that Philene ought to be the possessor thereof, yet by no meanes would agree vnto hys wyue's request, but fell into a rage, callinge hir Foole and Ideot, and sayinge that hee had rather that shee had bene a Thousande tymes hanged, than he would giue hir one peny: and although she had saued hir life, yet she ought to be banished the Citty, for so mutch as the same and all the propertie thereof was brought into the Romane's handes, and amongs the same hir mother's house, and al hir goods in possession of the victors, and euery part, at their disposition and pleasure. And moreouer, for so mutch as hir mother and shee had departed Carthage, and would not abide the hazarde and extremity of their country as other Citizens did, and hauing concealed and hidden those riches which ought to haue ben brought forth for the common defence of their countrey, and gone out of the Citty as though she had ben a poore simple Woman, poorely therefore she ought to lyue in Scicilia, whyther she was fled. Wherefore he was of opinion, that she in this maner beinge departed when the Citty had greatest neede of hir helpe, was disfranchised of all the rightes and customes of the countrey, and that like as a straunger can recouer nothinge in that Citty, except he haue the priuiledge and Freedome of the same, euen so Philene (for the considerations before recited) ought to be compted for a straunger, and not to partic.i.p.ate any thinge within the City, accordingly as the lawes forbid. When he had so sayd, he was like by force to expell the sorrowfull mayden out of the house. These wordes greatly grieued Philene, who doubted least his father in law would haue ioyned with him, and agree vnto hys alleaged reasons, whych seemed to be of great importaunce and effect: and therefore thought newly to returne to the Halter for remedy of hir griefes; but it otherwise chaunced, for the Father of Elisa, which was a Romane borne, and affected with a Romane minde, and therefore of a Gentle and well disposed nature, knew ful wel, that although the house was giuen vnto him by the consent of Scipio, and other the Captaynes, yet he knew that their pleasure was not to bestowe on him the treasure hidden in the same, and therefore ought to be restored to the true owner, or else confiscate and properly due to the Romane Eschequer, or common treasure house of the same: and albeit that it was true that hir Mother went out of Carthage, in the time of the Siege, and therefore had forfayted the same, yet he determined to shewe some curtesie vnto the younge mayden, and to be thankfull to fortune, for the benefite which by hir meanes he had receyued, thinkinge that she would be displeased with him, if he with vngratefull minde or dishonourable intent should receyue hir giftes. For in those dayes the Romans highly reuerenced Lady Fortune, and in hir honour had Erected Temples, and Dedicated Aultars, and in prosperous tyme and happy aduentures, they consecrated vowes, and sacrifices vnto hir, thinkinge (although supersticiously) that like as from G.o.d there proceeded none euil, euen so from him all goodnesse was deriued: that all felicity and other good happes, whych chaunced vppon the Romane Common wealth, proceeded from Fortune, as the Fountayne and most Princ.i.p.all Occasion, and that they which would not confesse hir force, and be thanckful vnto hir G.o.dheade, incurred in the ende hir Displeasure and Daungers very great and haynous. This Romane then hauing this opinion, beinge (as I sayd before) of a gentle Disposition woulde at one instant both render thankes to Fortune, and vse curtesie vnto that mayden, by whose riches and goods from lowe degree he was aduanced to honourable state. Wherefore turning his Face vnto hir, with louing countenaunce he spake these wordes: "Right gentle damosel, albeit by the reasons alleged by my sonne in law, none of the treasure hidden by thy mother, and founde by my Daughter in thys house, of right doth appertayne to thee, yet I will that thou shalte vnderstande my curtesie, and that thou see how the Romanes doe more esteeme the n.o.bility of their minde, than all the riches of the world. Therefore that thou mayst enioy thy loue, I referre vnto thee and to thy disposition all the goods and Iewels that were in the Casket, and contayned in thy writinge. Beholde therefore (causing the casket to be brought vnto him) all the Iewels and other parcels that were in the same when they were founde, take so mutch thereof as thou wilt, and if so bee thou desire the whole, willingly I render the same vnto thee, sithens by means of those riches, and the industry of my trafique, I haue gayned so mutch, as hauinge gyuen a conuenient dowry vnto my daughter, I honorably liue without it." Philene seeing the curtesie of this valiaunt gentleman, gaue him infinite thanks, and then sayd vnto him: "Sir, I for my part dare aske nothinge, well knowinge that if you geue me nothinge, there is no cause why I shoulde complayne of you, but of my hard and wicked fortune, whych hath offered and giuen that to you, which ought to haue bin mine. Wherefore, sith your curtesie is sutch, as you refer the whole to mee, I purpose to take nothing, but will that the whole shall bee in your disposition, and giue mee what you list, and that so gieuen of your liberality, I shal more thankfully receiue, than if debt or duty did constrayne it: and if it shall please you to giue me nothing, my heart shal bee so well appeased, for that your curtesie, as rather woulde I chose to liue in the poore estate wherein I am, than be rych with your displeasure." Howbeit, the Romayne intreated Philene to take thereof what shee thought good: and Philene craued no more than it pleased hym to gyue.

Eyther of them standinge vpon these termes Elisa, brake the strife, who knowinge the force of loue, and the griefes incident to his clients, by hir own harmes, moued to haue compa.s.sion vpon the afflicted, turned towardes hir father, and sayd vnto him: "Right louinge father, the contencion betweene Philene and you, is risen of a matter which came by me. The treasure for which you striue, and committed to the will of Philene, was found by me, whereof if it please you both, I wyll take sutch order, as both you shalbe satisfied." "I am contented," sayd hir father: "And I likewise," aunswered Philene. Then sayd Eliza: "You father hitherto haue had but one Daughter, which am I, vnto whom like a chylde and louinge daughter I haue bene obedient, and shalbe all the dayes of my lyfe: and I agayne haue receiued from you sutch fatherly education, as your ability and state required. This treasure I found and gaue to you for ease and comfort of vs both: to me it yelded the only delectation of my heart in choyse of husband: to you honour and estimation within thys Citty. Wherefore, sith the princ.i.p.al came from me, and the right resteth in this careful maiden, my desire is, that where before you had but one daughter, you will adopt this mayden for another, and thinke that you have twaine, and that you will intreate Philene in like sort as if shee were my sister: and where this Inheritance and reuenue wherewith now you be possessed, and this casket also ought to be onely myne after your decease, for that you haue no sonnes, nor other Issue, my desire is that you geue vnto her the halfe, and that you accept hir for your daughter, as I doe meane to take hir for my sister: and accordingely to vse hir duringe lyfe." With these wordes Elisa imbraced Philene, and louingly dyd kisse hir, sayinge vnto hir: "For my sister I entertayn thee Philene." And then shee tooke hir by the hand and gaue hir vnto hir father with these wordes: "Beholde father, your new daughter, whom I beseech you so hartily to loue as you do Elisa your naturall chylde." The father praysed the curtesie of Elisa, and receiued Philene for his daughter and was contented wyth the Arbitrament of his Daughter. But Elisa perceyuing hir husband to be somewhat offended therewyth, specially for that the same should be deuided into two partes, which was like to haue bene hys wholly before, persuaded hym by gentle meanes to be content wyth that agreement: and although at the first he could not well brooke the liberality of his wyfe, yet at length viewinge the good behauiour and gentle disposition of Philene, and the contented minde of his father in law, together with the n.o.ble nature of his wyfe, and hir wise aduertis.e.m.e.nt of Fortune's fickle a.s.surance, yelded, and acknowledged Philene for hys kinswoman.

And so Philene put in possession of the halfe of those goods, whereof she was altogether out of hope, was well satisfied, and had the Romane for hir father, Elisa for hir sister, and hir husband for hir kinsman. That valyant Roman was so careful ouer Philene, as if she had ben his owne daughter, and so indeuored, as he brought to pa.s.se that she obteined hir beloued Scicilian to husbande: who also sent for hym to Carthage, where he continued with his wife in the Romane's house, and loved them both so dearely as though he had ben father to the one, and father in lawe to the other. In this maner these two poore wenches attained their two husbands, for hauing of whom, theyr onely care was for Ryches, and for lacke thereof were dryuen to despayre: and in the ende both (though diuersly, and the one more fortunat than the other) recouered riches, and with the same theyr husbandes, to their heartes singular ioye and contentation. Which lucke I wyshe to all other poore Girles (but not hangyng rype, or louynge in despayre) that bend their mindes on Mariage, and seeke to people by that estate, their countrey common wealth. But leauinge for a time these Tragicall Nouels and heauy chaunces, wee purpose to remember some morall matters right worthy of remembraunce: Letters they bee from a G.o.dly Pagane clerk, the famous Philosopher Plutarch, Schoolemaister to an Emperour of no lesse vertue, than hys mayster's Schoole and mynde was fraught with diuine Precepts. Wherefore proceede (good Reader) to continue the paynes vpon the readinge of these, so well as thou hast vouchsafed to employ thy time before. They shal no lesse delite thee, if vertue brooke thee, they shal no lesse content thee if duty please thee, than any delightsome thing, whereupon (at any tyme) thou hast employed thy vacaunte tyme.

THE TWELFTH NOUELLE.

LETTERS OF THE EMPEROUR TRAIANE.

_Letters of the Philosopher Plutarch to the n.o.ble and vertuous Emperour Traiane, and from the sayd Emperour to Plutarch: the lyke also from the sayd Emperour to the Senate of Rome. In all which be conteyned G.o.dly rules for gouernment of Princes, obedience of Subiects, and their duties to common wealth.