The Palace of Pleasure Volume Iii Part 6

THE THIRTY-FIRST NOUELL.

_A Wydow called Mistresse Helena, wyth whom a Scholler was in loue, (shee louing an other) made the same Scholler to stande a whole Wynter's night in the Snow to wayte for hir, who afterwardes by a sleyght and pollicie, caused hir in Iuly, to stand vppon a Tower starke naked amongs Flies and Gnats, and in the Sunne._

Diuert we now a little from these sundry haps, to solace our selues wyth a merry deuice, and pleasaunt circ.u.mstaunce of a Scholler's loue, and of the wily guily Subtilties of an amorous Wydow of Florence. A Scholler returned from Paris to practise hys knowledge at home in his owne Countrey, learneth a more cunning Lecture of Mistresse Helena, than he did of the subtillest Sorbone Doctor, or other Mathematicall from whence he came. The Scholler as playnely hee had applied his booke, and earnestly harkned his readings, so he simply meant to be a faythfull Louer and deuout requirant to this Iolly dame, that had vowed his Deuotion and promised Pilgrimage to an other Saynct. The Scholler vpon the first view of the Wydowe's wandring Lookes, forgetting Ouide's Lessons of Loue's guiles, pursued his conceipt to the vttermost. The Scholler neuer remembred how many valiaunt, wise and learned men, wanton Women had seduced and deceyued. Hee had forgot how Catullus was beguiled by Lesbia, Tibullus by Delia, Propertius by Cynthia, Naso by Corinna, Demetrius by Lamia, Timotheus by Phryne, Philip by a Greeke mayden, Alexander by Thays, Hanniball by Campania, Caesar by Cleopatra, Pompeius by Flora, Pericles by Aspaga, Psammiticus the king of aegypt by Rhodope, and diuers other very famous by Women of that stampe. Hee had not ben wel trayned in holy writ, or heard of Samson's Dalida, or of Salomon's Concubins, but like a playne dealinge man, beleued what she promised, followed what she bad him, waited whiles she mocked him, attended till shee laughed him to scorne. And yet for all these Iolly pastimes inuented by this Widdow, to deceyue the poore Scholler, she scaped not free from his Logike rules, not saife from his Philosophy. He was forced to turne ouer Aristotle, to reuolue his Porphyrie, and to gather his Wits about hym to requite this louing Peate, that had so charitably delt with him. He willingly serched ouer Ptolome, perused Alb.u.mazar, made haste to Haly, yea and for a shift besturred him in Erra Pater, for matching two contrary Elements. For colde in Christma.s.se holy dayes, and Frost at Twelftide, shewed no more force on this poore learned Scholler, than the Sunne's heate in the Feries of Iuly, Gnats, Flyes, and Waspes, at Noone dayes in Sommer vpon the naked tender Corpse of this fayre Wyddow. The Scholler stoode belowe in a Court, benoommed for colde, the Wyddowe preached a lofte in the top of a Tower, and fayne would haue had water to coole hir extreme heate. The Scholler in his Shyrt bedecked wyth his demissaries. The Wyddow so Naked as hir Graundmother Eue, wythout vesture to shroud hir. The Wyddow by magike arte what so euer it cost, would fayne haue recouered hir lost Louer. The Scholler well espying his aduantage when hee was asked councell, so Incharmed hir with his Sillogismes, as he made hir to mount a Tower, to cursse the time that euer she knew him or hir Louer. So the Wydow not well beaten in causes of Schoole, was whipt with the Rod, wherewith shee scourged other.

Alas good Woman, had she known that olde malice had not bene forgotten, she woulde not haue trusted, and lesse committed hir selfe to the Circle of his Enchauntments. If women wist what dealings are wyth men of great reading, they would amongs one hundred other, not deale wyth one of thee meanest of those that be Bookish. One Girolamo Ruscelli, a learned Italyan making prety notes for the better elucidation of the Italyan Decamerone of Boccaccio, iudgeth Boccaccio himselfe to be this scholler, whom by an other name he termeth to be Rinieri. But whatsoeuer that Scholler was, he was truely to extreme in reueng, and therein could vse no meane. For hee neuer left the poore feeble soule, for all hir curteous Words and gentle Supplication, vntill the Skin of hir flesh was Parched with the scalding Sunne beames. And not contented with that, delt his Almose also to hir Mayde, by sending hir to help hir Mistresse, where also she brake hir Legge. Yet Phileno was more pityfull ouer the 3 nymphes and fayre G.o.ddesses of Bologna, whose Hystory you may reade in the 49 Nouell of my former Tome. He fared not so roughly with those, as Rinieri did with thys, that sought but to gayne what she had lost. Well, how so euer it was, and what differency betweene eyther of theym, this Hystory ensuinge, more aptly shall gieue to vnderstande. Not long sithens, there was in Florence, a young Gentlewoman of worshipfull parentage, fayre and comely of personage, of courage stout, and abounding in goods of Fortune (called Helena,) who being a widow, determined not to mary agayne, bicause she was in loue with a yong man that was not voyde of Nature's good gifts, whom for hir owne Tooth, aboue other shee had specially chosen. In whom (setting aside all other care) many tymes (by meanes of one of hir maydes which she trusted best) she had great pleasure and delight. It chaunced about the same time that a yong Gentleman of that Citty called Rinieri, hauinge a great time studied at Paris, returned to Florence, not to sell his Science by retayle, as many doe, but to knowe the reasons of things, and the causes thereof, which is a speciall good exercise for a Gentleman. And being there honoured and greatly esteemed of all men, aswell for his curteous behauiour, as also for his knowledge, he liued like a good Cittizen. But it is commonly seene, they which haue best vnderstandinge and knowledge, are soonest tangled in Loue: euen so it hapned with this Rinieri, who repayringe one day for his pa.s.setime to a Feaste, this Madame Helena clothed al in blacke, (after the manner of Widowes) was there also, and seemed in his eyes so beautifull and well fauored, as any woman euer he saw, and thought that hee might bee accoumpted happy, to whom G.o.d did shewe so mutch fauoure, as to suffer him to be cleped betweene hir Armes: and beholdinge her diuers tymes and knowing that the greatest and dearest things cannot be gotten with out labour, he determined to use all his endeuour and care in pleasing of hir, that thereby he might obtayne hir loue, and so enioy hir. The yong Gentlewoman not very bashfull, conceyuing greater opinion of hir selfe, than was needefull, not castinge hir Eyes towards the Ground, but rolling them artificially on euery side, and by and by perceyuing mutch gazing to be vpon hir, espied Rinieri earnestly beholding hir, and sayd, smiling to hir selfe: "I thinke that I haue not this day lost my time in comming hither, for if I bee not deceyued, I shall catch a Pigeon by the Nose." And beginning certayne times stedfastly to looke vpon him, she forced hir selfe so mutch as she could, to seeme very ernestly to beholde him. And on the other part thinking, that the more pleasaunt and amorous she shewed hirselfe to be, the more hir beauty should be esteemed, chiefly of him whom specially shee was disposed to loue. The wise Scholler giuing ouer his Philosophy, bent all his endeuour here vnto, and thinking to be hir seruaunt, learned where she dwelt, and began to pa.s.se before hir house under pretence of some other occasion: whereat the Gentlewoman reioysed for the causes beforesayde, fayning an earnest desire to looke vpon him. Wherefore the Scholler hauing found a certayne meane to be acquaynted wyth hir Mayde discouered his loue: Praying her to deale so with hir mistresse, as he might haue hir fauor. The maide promised him very louingly incontinently reporting the same to hir mistresse, who with the greatest Scoffes in the Worlde, gaue ear thereunto and sayd: "Seest thou not from whence this Goodfellowe is come to lose al his knowledge and doctrine that he hath brought vs from Paris. Now let vs deuise therefore how he may bee handled for going about to seeke that, which he is not like to obtaine.

Thou shalt say vnto him, when he speaketh to thee agayne, that I loue him better than he loueth me, but it behooueth me to saue mine honoure, and to keepe my good name and estimation amongs other Women." Whych thinge, if he be so wise (as hee seemeth) hee ought to Esteeme and Regarde. "Ah, poore Wench, she knoweth not wel, what it is to mingle Huswiuery with learning, or to intermeddle distaues with bookes.{"} Now the mayde when she had founde the Scholler, tolde him as hir mistresse had commaunded: whereof the Scholler was so glad, as he with greater endeuor proceded in his enterprise, and began to write Letters to the Gentlewoman, which were not refused, although he could receyue no aunsweres that pleased him, but sutch as were done openly.

And in this sorte the Gentlewoman long time fed him with delayes. In the ende she discouered all this new loue vnto hir frend, who was attached with sutch an Aking Disease in his heade, as the same was Fraught with the Reume of Iealousie: wherefore she to shewe hir selfe to be suspected without cause (very carefull for the Scholler) sent hir mayde to tell him, that she had no conuenient time to doe the thinge that should please him, sithens he was first a.s.sured of hir loue, but hoped the next Christma.s.se holly dayes to be at his commaundement: wherefore if he would vouchsafe to come the night following the first holly day, into the Court of hir house, she would wayte there for his comminge. The Scholler the best contented man in the Worlde fayled not at the time appoyncted, to go to the Gentlewoman's house: where being placed by the Mayde in a base Court, and shut fast within the same, he attended for hir, who Suppinge with hir friende that night, very pleasauntly recited vnto him all that she had determined then to doe, saying: "Thou mayst see now what loue I do beare vnto him, of whom thou hast foolishly conceyued thys Iealousie. To which woordes hir Freende gaue eare with great delectation, desiringe to see the effect of that, whereof she gaue him to vnderstand by wordes." Now as it chaunced the day before the Snowe fell downe so thicke from aboue, as it couered the Earth, by which meanes the Scholler within a very little s.p.a.ce after his arriuall, began to be very colde: howbeit hopinge to receyue recompence, he suffred it paciently. The Gentlewoman a little whyle after, sayd vnto hir Freende: "I pray thee let vs goe into my chuamber, where at a little Window we may looke out, and see what he doth that maketh thee so Iealous, and herken what aunswere he will make to my Mayde, whom of purpose I wyll send forth to speake vnto him."

When she had so sayde, they went to the Window, where they seeing the Scholler (they not seene of hym,) heard the Mayde speake these wordes: "Rinieri, my Mystresse is the angriest Woman in the World, for that as yet she cannot come vnto thee.

But the cause is, that one of hir Brethren is come to visite hir this Euening, and hath made a long discourse of talke vnto hir, and afterwardes bad himselfe to Supper, and as yet is not departed, but I thinke hee will not tary longe, and then immediately she will come. In the meane tyme she prayeth thee to take a little payne." The Scholler beleeuing this to be true, sayde vnto hir: "Require your Mistresse to take no care for mee till hir leasure may serue: But yet entreat hir to make so mutch hast as she can." The Mayde returned and went to Bed, and the Dame of the house sayd then vnto hir frend: "Now sir, what say you to this? Doe you thincke that if I loued him, as you mystrust, that I would suffer him to tarry beneath in this greate colde to coole himselfe?" And hauing sayd so, she went to Bed with hir frende, who then was partly satisfied, and all the night they continued in greate pleasure and solace, laughing, and mocking the miserable Scholler that walked vp and downe the Court to chafe himselfe, not knowing where to sit, or which way to auoyde the colde, and curssed the long taryinge, of his mistresse Brother, hoping at euery noyse he heard, that she had come to open the dore to let him in, but his hope was in vayne.

Now she hauinge sported hir selfe almost till midnight, sayd vnto hir frend: "How think you (sir) by our Scholler, whether iudge you is greater, his Wysedome, or the loue that I beare vnto him? The colde that I make him to suffer, will extinguish the heate of suspition whych yee conceyued of my wordes the other day." "Yee say true," (sayd hir frend,) "and I do a.s.sure you, that like as you are my delight, my rest, my comfort, and all my hope, euen so I am yours, and shalbe during life." For the confirmation of which renewed amity, they spared no delights which the louing G.o.ddesse doeth vse to serue and imploy vpon her seruaunts and suters. And after they had talked a certayne time, she sayd vnto him: "For G.o.d's sake (sir) let vs rise a little, to see if the glowing fire which this my new louer hath dayly written vnto me, to burn in him, bee quenched or not." And rysing out of their Beds, they went to a little Window and looking downe into the Courte, they saw the Scholler dauncing vpon the Snow, whereunto his shiuering teeth were so good Instruments, as he seemed the trimmest Dauncer that euer trode a Cinquepace after sutch Musicke, being forced thereunto through the great colde which he suffered. And then she sayde vnto him: "What say you to this my frende, do you not see how cunninge I am to make men daunce without Taber, or Pipe?" "Yes in deede,"

(sayd hir Louer) "yee be an excellent Musitian." "Then" (quod shee) "let vs go downe to the dore, and I will speake vnto him, but in any Wise say you nothing, and we shal heare what reasons and arguments he will frame to mooue me to compa.s.sion, and perchaunce shall haue no little pastime to behold him."

Whereupon they went downe softly to the dore, and there without opening the same, shee with a softe voyce out at a little whole, called the Scholler vnto hir. Which hee hearinge, began to prayse G.o.d and thancke hym a thousande times, beleeuing veryly that he should then be let in, and approching the dore, said: "I am heere mine (owne sweete heart) open the dore for G.o.d's sake, for I am like to die for Cold." Whom in mocking wise she answered: "Can you make me beleue (M. Scholler) that you are so tender, or that the colde is so great as you affirme, for a little Snow newly falne downe? There be at Paris farre greater Snowes than these be, but to tell you the troth, you cannot come in yet, for my Brother (the deuell take him) came yesternight to supper, and is not yet departed, but by and by hee wyll be gon, and then you shall obtayne the effect of your desire, a.s.suring you, that with mutch a doe I haue stolne away from hym, to come hither for your comfort, praying you not to thincke it longe."

"Madame" sayd the Scholler, "I beseech you for G.o.d's sake to open the dore, that I may stand in couert from the Snow, which within this houre hath fallen in great aboundaunce, and doth yet continue: and there I will attend your pleasure." "Alas sweet Friend" (sayd she) "the dore maketh sutch a noyse when it is opened, that it will easily be heard of my brother, but I will pray him to depart, that I may quickely returne agayne to open the same." "Goe your way then" (sayd the Scholler) "and I pray you cause a great fire to be made, that I may warme mee when I come in, for I can scarce feele my selfe for colde." "Why, it is not possible" (quod the Woman) "if it be true that you wholly burne in loue for me, as by your sundry Letters written, it appeareth, but now I perceyue that you mocke me, and therefore tary there still on G.o.d's name." Hir frende which heard all this, and tooke pleasure in those wordes, went agayne to Bed with hir, into whose eyes no slepe that night coulde enter for the pleasure and sport they had with the poore Scholler. The vnhappy wretched Scholler whose teeth chattered for colde, faring like a Storke in colde nights, perceyuing himselfe to be mocked, a.s.sayed to open the dore, or if he might goe out by some other way: and seeing it impossible, stalking vp and downe like a Lyon, curssed the nature of the time, the wickednesse of the woman, the length of the Night, and the Folly and simplicity of himselfe: and conceyuing great rage, and despight agaynst hir, turned sodaynely the long and feruent loue that he bare hir, into despight and cruell hatred, deuising many and diuers meanes to bee reuenged, whych he then farre more desired, than hee did in the beginninge to lye with his Widow. After that longe and tedious night, day approched, and the dawning thereof began to appeare: wherefore the mayde instructed by hir mistresse, went downe into the court, and seemyng to haue pity uppon the Scholler, sayd vnto hym: "The Diuell take hym that euer he came hyther this nyghte, for hee hath bothe let vs of sleepe, and hath made you to be frozen for colde, but take it paciently for this tyme, some other Nyght must be appointed. For I know well that neuer thyng coulde chaunce more displeasantly to my Mistresse than this." But the Scholler full of dysdayne, lyke a wyse man which knew well that threats and menacyng words, were weapons without hands to the threatned, retayned in hys Stomacke that whych intemporate wyll would haue broken forth, and wyth so quiet Woordes as hee coulde, not shewynge hymselfe to bee angry, sayd: "In deede I haue suffred the worste Nyghte that euer I dyd, but I knowe the same was not throughe your mistresse fault, bicause shee hauing pitye vppon me, and as you say, that which cannot be to Night, may be done another time, commend me then vnto hir, and farewell." And thus the poore Scholler stiffe for colde, so well as hee coulde, retourned home to his house, where for the extremitye of the tyme and lacke of sleepe beyng almost deade, he threwe hymselfe vppon his bed, and when he awaked, his Armes and Legges had no feeling. Wherefore he sent for Physitions and tolde them of the colde he had taken, who incontinently prouided for his health: and yet for al their best and spedy remedies, they could scarce recouer his Iointes and Sinewes, wherein they did what they could: and had it not bene that he was yong, and the Sommer approching, it had ben to mutch for him to haue endured. But after he was come to Healthe, and grewe to be l.u.s.ty, secrete Malyce still resting in his breaste, hee thought vpon reuenge. And it chaunced in a lytle tyme after, that Fortune prepared a new accident to the scholer to satisfy his desire, bycause the young man which was beloued of the Gentlewoman, not caring any longer for hir, fel in loue with an other, and gaue ouer the solace and pleasure he was wont to doe to mistresse Helena, for which despite she consumed herself in wepings and lamentations. But hir maid hauing pity vpon hir mistresse sorrowes, knowing no meanes to remoue the melancoly which she conceiued for the losse of hir friend, and seing the scholler daily pa.s.se by accordinge to his common Custome, conceiued a foolishe beliefe that hir mistresse friend might be brought to loue hir agayne, and wholly recouered, by some charme or other sleight of Necromancy, to bee wrought and brought to pa.s.se by the Scholler. Which deuise she tolde vnto hir mistresse, and she vndiscretely (and without due consideration that if the scholler had any knowledge in that science, he would helpe himselfe) gaue credite to the words of hir mayde, and by and by sayd vnto hir, that shee was able to bring it to pa.s.se, if he would take it in hande, and therewithall promised a.s.suredly, that for recompense he should vse hir at his pleasure. The mayde diligently tolde the Scholler hereof, who very ioyfull for those newes, sayd vnto himselfe: "O G.o.d, praysed be thy name, for now the time is come, that by thy helpe I shall requite the iniuries done vnto me by this wicked Woman, and be recompensed of the great loue that I bare vnto hir:" And aunswered the mayd: "Go tell thy mistresse that for this matter she neede to take no care, for if hir frend were in India, I can presently force him to come hither, and aske hir forgiuenesse of the fault he hath committed agaynst hir. And the maner, and way how to vse hir selfe in this behalfe, I will gieue hir to vnderstand when it shal please hir to appoinct me: and fayle not to tell hir what I say, comforting hir in my behalfe." The mayde caried the aunswere, and it was concluded, that they should talke more hereof at the Church of S. Lucie, whither being come, and reasoning together alone, not remembring that she had brought the Scholler almost to the poynct of death, she reueyled vnto him all the whole matter, and the thing which he desired, praying him instantly to helpe hir, to whome the scholler sayd: "True it is lady, that amongs other things which I learned at Paris, the arte of Necromancie, (whereof I haue very great skill,) is one: But bycause it is mutch displeasaunt to G.o.d, I haue made an othe neuer to vse it, eyther for my selfe, or for any other: howbeit the loue which I beare you, is of sutch force, as I cannot deny you any request, yea and if I should be d.a.m.ned amongs all the deuils in h.e.l.l, I am ready to performe your pleasure. But I tell you before, that it is a harder matter to be done, than paraduenture you belieue, and specially where a Woman shall prouoke a Man to loue, or a Man the Woman, bycause it can not be done by the propre Person, whome it doth touche, and therefore it is meete, whatsoeuer is done, in any wyse not to be affrayde, for that the coniuration must bee made in the Nyght, and in a solytarie place wythout Companye: which thing I know not how you shal bee disposed to doe." To whom the Woman more amorous than wise, aunswered: "Loue prycketh mee in sutch wise, as there is nothyng but I dare attempt, to haue him againe, that causelesse hath forsaken me. But tel me I beseech you wherein it behoueth that I be so bold and hardy." The Scholer (subtil inough) said: "I muste of necessity make an image of bra.s.se, in the name of him that you desire to haue, which being sent vnto you you must, when the Mone is at hir ful, bath your self stark naked in a running riuer at the first houre of sleepe VII. times with the same image: and afterwards beyng stil naked, you must go vp into some tree or house vnhabited, and turning your selfe towardes the North side thereof wyth the image in your hand you shal say VII. times certain words, that I wil giue you in writing, which when you haue done, two damsels shal come vnto you, the fairest that euer you saw, and they shall salute you, humbly demaundyng what your pleasure is to commaund them: to whome you shal willingly declare in good order what you desire: and take hede aboue al things, that you name not one for an other: and when they begonne, you may descend downe to the place where you left your Apparel, and array your selfe agayne, and afterwardes retourne home vnto your house, and a.s.sure your self, that before the mid of the nexte Nyghte folowing, your Fryend shall come vnto you weepyng, and crying Mercye and forgyuenesse at youre Handes. And know yee, that from that tyme forth, he wil neuer forsake you for any other." The gentlewoman hearing those words, gaue great credyte thervnto: and thought that already she helde hir fryend betweene hir Armes, and very ioyfull sayd: "Doubt not sir, but I wyll accomplysh al that you haue inioyned me: and I haue the meetest place in the World to doe it: for vppon the valley of Arno, very neare the Ryuer syde I haue a Manor house, secretly to woorke any attempt that I list: and now it is the moneth of Iuly, in which tyme bathing is most pleasaunt. And also I remembre that not far from the Ryuer, there is a lyttle Toure vnhabited, into which one can scarce get vp, but by a certain Ladder made of chesnut tree, which is already there, whereuppon the shephierds do sometime ascende to the turra.s.se of the same Toure, to looke for their cattell when they be gone astray: and the place is very solitarie out of the way. Into that Toure wyll I goe vp, and trust to execute what you haue requyred me." The Scholler which knew very well both the village whereof she spake, and also the Toure, right glad for that he was a.s.sured of his purpose, sayde: "Madame, I was neuer there, ne yet do knowe the village, nor the Toure, but if it bee as you saye, it is not possible to finde anye better place in the Worlde: wherefore when the tyme is come, I wyll send you the Image, and the prayer. But I heartily beseech you, when you haue obtained your desire, and do perceyue that I haue well serued your turne, to haue me in remembraunce, and to keepe your promyse." Which the Gentlewoman a.s.sured hym to doe withoute fayle, and taking hir leaue of him, she retired home to hir house. The Scholer ioyfull for that his deuise should in deede come to pa.s.se, caused an image to be made with certaine Characters, and wrote a tale of a Tubbe in stede of the prayer. And when hee sawe tyme he sent them to the Gentlewoman, aduertising hir that the Nyght folowyng, she must doe the thing he had appoynted hir. Then to procede in his enterprise, he and his man went secretly to one of his fryends houses that dwelte harde by the towne. The Woman on the other side, and hir Mayde repaired to hir place: where when it was nyght, makyng as though she would go slepe, she sent hir Mayde to Bed: afterwards about ten of the Clocke she conueyed hirself very softly out of hir lodgyng, and repayred neare to the Towne vpon the riuer of Arno, and lookyng aboute hir, not seeing or perceiuing any man, she vnclothed hir selfe, and hidde hir apparell vnder a bush of Thornes, and then bathed hir selfe VII. tymes with the Image, and afterwardes starke naked, holding the same in her hand, she went towardes the Toure. The Scholler at the beginning of the Nyghte beying hydden wyth hys seruaunt amongs the willowes and other trees neere the Toure, saw all the aforesayde thinges, and hir also pa.s.sing naked by him, (the whitenesse of whose body surpa.s.sed as he thought, the darknesse of the night, so farre as blacke exceedeth white) who afterwardes behelde hir Stomack, and the other partes of hir body, which seemed unto him to be very delectable. And remembringe what would shortly come to pa.s.se, he had some pitty vppon hir, on the other side, the temptation of the Flesh sodaynely a.s.sayled hym, prouoking him to issue forth of the secret corner, to Surprise hir, and to take his pleasure vpon hir. But calling to hys rememberaunce what shee was, and what great wrong hee had sustayned, his mallice began to kindle agayne, and did remoue his pitty, and l.u.s.t, continuing still stedfast in his determination, suffring her to pa.s.se hir Iorney.

The Wydow being vppon the Toure, and turning hir face towards the North, began to say the wordes which the Scholler had giuen hir. Within a while after the Scholler entred in very softly, and tooke away the ladder whereupon she got vp, and stoode still to heare what she did say and doe. Who hauing VII. times recited hir prayer, attended the comming of the two damsels: for whom she wayted so long in vayne, and therewithall began to be extreemely colde, and perceyued the dawning of the day appeare.

Wherefore taking great displeasure that it came not to pa.s.se as the Scholler had tolde hir, she spake theese wordes to hir selfe: "I doubt mutch least this Scholler will rewarde mee with sutch another night, as wherein once I made him to wayte: but if he haue done it for that respect, he is not well reuenged, for the nights now want the third part of the length of those, then, besides the colde that he indured, which was of greater extremity." And that the day might not discouer hir, she woulde haue gone downe from the Toure, but she found the Ladder to be taken away. Then as thou the Worlde had molten vnder hir Feete, hir heart began to fayle, and Fayntinge, fell downe vppon the tarra.s.se of the toure, and when hir force reuiued agayne, she began pitifully to weepe and complayne. And knowing well that the Scholler had done that deede for reuenge, she grew to be angry wyth hir selfe, for that shee hadde Offended another, and to mutch trusted hym whom she ought (by good reason) to haue accoumpted hir enimy. And after she had remayned a great while in this plight, then looking if there were any way for hir to goe downe, and perceyuinge none, she renued hir weeping, whose minde great care and sorrow did pierce saying thus to hir selfe: "O vnhappy wretch, what will thy brethren say, thy Parents, thy Neyghbors, and generally all they of Florence, when they shall vnderstande that thou hast bene found heere naked? Thy honesty which hitherto hath bene neuer stayned, shall now bee blotted with the stayne of shame, yea, and if thou were able to finde (for reamedy hereof) any matter of excuse (sutch as might be founde) the wicked Scholler (who knoweth all thy doings) will not suffer thee to ly: ah miserable wretch, that in one houre's s.p.a.ce, thou hast lost both thy freende and thyne honour. What shall become of thee? Who is able to couer thy shame?" When she had thus complayned hirselfe, hir sorrowe was not so great as shee was like to cast hirselfe headlong downe from the Toure: but the Sunne being already risen, she approched neare one of the corners of the Walle, espying if she coulde see any Boy keeping of cattell, that she might send him for hir Mayde. And it chaunced that the Scholler which lay and slept in couert, awaked, one espying the other, the Scholler saluted hir thus: "Good morow, Lady, be the Damsels yet come?" The Woman seeing, and hearing him, began agayne bitterly to weepe, and prayed him to come vp to the Toure, that she might speake with him. The Scholler was thereunto very agreable, and she lying on hir belly vpon the terra.s.se of the Touer, discouering nothing but hir head ouer the side of the same, sayd vnto him weeping: "Rinieri, truly, if euer I caused thee to endure an ill Night, thou art now well reuenged on me; for although it be the moneth of Iuly, I thought (because I was naked) that I should haue frosen to death this night for cold, besides my great, and continuall Teares for the offence which I haue done thee, and of my Folly for beleeuing thee, that maruell it is mine eyes do remayne within my head: And therefore I pray thee, not for the loue of me, whom thou oughtest not to loue, but for thine owne sake which art a gentleman, that the shame and payne which I haue sustayned, may satisfy the offence and wrong I haue committed agaynst thee: and cause mine apparell I beseech thee to be brought vnto me, that I may goe downe from hence, and doe not robbe mee of that, which afterwardes thou art not able to restore, which is, myne honor: for if I haue deceyued thee of one night, I can at all times when it shall please thee, render vnto thee for that one, many. Let it suffice thee then with this, and like an honest man content thy selfe by being a little reuenged on me, by making me to know now what it is to hurt another. Do not, I pray thee, practise thy power against a woman: for the Egle hath no fame for conquering of the Doue.

Then for the loue of G.o.d, and for thine honor sake, haue pitty and remorse vpon me." The Scholler with a cruel heart remembring the iniury that he hath receyued, and seeing hir so to weepe and pray, conceyued at one instant both pleasure and griefe in his minde: pleasure of the reuenge which he aboue all things desired, and griefe mooued his manhoode to haue compa.s.sion vpon the myserable woman. Notwithstanding, pitty not able to ouercome the fury of his reuenge, he aunswered: "Mistresse Helena, if my praiers (which in dede I could not moysten with teares, ne yet sweeten them with sugred woordes, as you doe yours nowe) might haue obtained that night wherein I thought I should haue died for colde in the Court full of snowe, to haue bene conueyed by you into some couert place, an easie matter it had beene for mee at this instant to heare your suite. But if now more than in times past your honor do waxe warme, and that it greeueth you to stand starke naked, make your prayers to him, betweene whose Armes you ware not offended to be naked that night, wherein you hearde me trot vp and downe your Courte, my Teeth chattering for cold and marching vpon the Snow: And at his handes seeke releefe, and pray him to bring your Clothes, and fetch a Ladder that you may come downe: Force your selfe to set your honor's care on him for whom both then, and now besides many other times, you haue not feared to put the same in perill, Why doe you not cal for him to come and help you? And to whom doth your help better appertayne than vnto him? You are his owne, and what things will he not prouyde in this distresse of yours? Or else what person will hee seeke to succour, if not to helpe and succour you? Call him (O foolish woman) and proue if the loue which thou bearest him, and thy wit together with his, be able to deliuer thee from my Folly, where (when both you were togethers) you tooke your Pleasure. And now thou haste Experience wheather my Folly or the Loue which thou diddest beare vnto him, is greatest. And be not now so Lyberall, and Curteous of that which I go not about to seeke: reserue thy good Nights to thy beloued freende, if thou chaunce to escape from hence aliue: for from my selfe I cleerely discharge you both.

And truly I haue had to mutch of one: and sufficient it is for mee to bee mocked once. Moreouer by thy crafty talke vttered by subtill speache, and by thyne vntimely prayse, thou thinkest to force the getting of my good will, and thou callest me Gentleman, valiaunt man, thinkinge thereby to withdrawe my valyaunte minde from punishing of thy wretched body: but thy flatteries shall not yet bleare mine vnderstanding eyes, as once wyth thy vnfathyfull promises thou diddest beguile my ouerweeninge wit. I now to well do know, and thereof thee well a.s.sure, that all the time I was a Scholler in Paris, I neuer learned so mutch as thou in one night diddest teach mee. But put the Case that I were a valiaunt man, yet thou art none of them vpon whom valiaunce ought to shewe his effects: and for the end of sutch tormenting and pa.s.sing cruell beasts, as thou art, only death is fittest rewarde: for if a Woman made but halfe these playnts, there is no man, but woulde a.s.swage his reuenge. But yet as I am no Eagle, and thou no Doue, but a most venomous Serpent, I intend so well as I can to persecute thee mine auncient enimy, wyth the greatest mallice I can deuise, which I cannot so properly cal reuenge, as I may terme it Correction: for that the reuenge of a matter ought to surmount the Offence, and I will bestow no reuenge on thee: for if I were disposed to apply my mynde therevnto, for respect of thy displeasure done to me, thy Lyfe should not suffise, nor one hundred more like vnto thine: which if I tooke away, I should but rid the Worlde of a most vile, and wicked woman. And to say the truth, what other art thou then a Deuill accept a little beauty in thy Face, which within few yeares will vanishe and consume: for thou tookest no care to kill, and destroy an honest man (as thou euen now diddest terme me) whose Life, may in tyme to come bee more profitable to the Worlde, than an hundred thousand sutch as thyne, so long as the World indureth. I wil teach thee then by the paine thou suffrest, what is it to mock sutch Men as bee of skyll, and what maner of thyng it is to delude and Scorne poore schollers, gyuing thee warning hereby, that thou never fall into sutch folly, if thou escapest this. But if thou haue so great a will to come downe as thou sayest thou hast, why doest thou not throwe downe thy selfe headlonge, that by breaking of thy Necke (if it please G.o.d) at one instante thou rid thy selfe of the payne, wherein thou sayest thou art, and make mee the best contented man of the Worlde. For this tyme I will say no more to thee, but that I haue done inough to make thee clime so high.

Learne then now so wel how thou maist get down, as thou didst know how to mock and deceyue me." While the Scholler had preached vnto hir these words, the wretched woman wepte continually, and the time stil did pa.s.se away, the Sunne increasing more and more: but when the Scholler held his peace, she replyed: "O cruell man, if that curssed nyght was grieuous vnto thee, and my fault appeared great, cannot my youth and Beauty, my Teares and humble Prayers bee able to mitigate thy wrath and to moue thee to pitty: do at least that thou mayst be moued and thy cruell minde appeased for that onely act, let me once again be trusted of thee, and sith I haue manifested al my desire, pardon me for this tyme, sith thou hast sufficiently made me feele the penance of my sinne. For, if I had not reposed my trust in thee, thou hadst not now reuenged thy self on me, which with desire most spytefull thou doest full well declare.

Gyue ouer then thine anger, and pardon me henceforth: for I am determined if thou wilt forgeue mee, and cause me to come downe out of this place, to forsake for ever that vnfaithfull Louer, and to receive thee for my only friend and Lord. Moreouer where thou greatly blamest my beauty, esteeming it to be short, and of smal accompt, sutch as it is, and the like of other women I know, not be regarded for other cause but for pastime and plesure of youthly Men, and therefore not to be contemned: and thou thy self truly art not very old; and albeit that cruelly I am intreated of thee, yet can I not beleue that thou wouldest haue me so miserably to die, as to cast my selfe down headlong, like one desperate, before thine eyes, whome (except thou were a lier as thou seemest to be now) in time past I did wel please and like. Haue pitye then upon me, for G.o.d's sake, for the Sunne begins to grow exceding hot, and as the extreame and bitter cold did hurt me the last Night euen so the heat beginneth to molest me." Whereunto the Scholler which kept hir there for the nonce, and for his pleasure, answered: "Mistresse you did not now commit your faith to me for any loue you bare, but to get that again which you had lost, wherfore that deserueth no good turne, but greater pain: and fondlye thou thinkest this to be the onely meanes, whereby I am able to take desired reuenge. For I haue a thousand other wayes and a thousand Trappes haue I layed to tangle thy feete, in makynge thee beleue that I dyd loue thee: in sutch wyse as thou shouldest haue gone no where at any tyme, is thys had not chanced but thou shouldest haue fallen into one of them: and surely thou couldest haue falne into none of them, but would haue bred thee more anoyaunce and shame than this (which I chose not for thyne ease, but for my greater pleasure.) And besides if all these meanes had fayled me, the pen should not, wherewyth I would haue displayed thee in sutch Colours, as when the simple brute thereof hadde come to thyne eares, thou wouldest haue desired a thousand times a Day, that thou hadst neuer bene born. For the forces of the pen be farre more vehement, than they can esteeme that haue not proued them by experience. I swear vnto thee by G.o.d, that I doe reioyse, and so wil to the ende, for this reuenge I take of thee, and so haue I done from the beginning: but if I had with pen painted thy maners to the Worlde, thou shouldest not haue ben so mutch ashamed of other, as of thy selfe, that rather than thou wouldest haue loked mee in the Face agayne, thou wouldest haue plucked thyne Eyes oute of thy head: and therefore reproue no more the Sea, for beeing increased wyth a lyttle Brooke. For thy loue, or for that thou wilt be mine own, I care not, as I haue already told thee, and loue him again if thou canst, so mutch as thou wilt, to whome for the hatred that I haue borne, I presently bear so mutch good wyll agayne, and for the pleasure that he hath don thee now. You be amorous and couet the loue of young men, bicause you see theyr Colour somewhat fresh, their beard more black, their bodies well shaped to daunce and runne at Tylt and Ryng, but al these qualities haue they had, that be growne to elder yeares, and they by good experience know what other are yet to learn. Moreouer you deeme them the better horss.e.m.e.n, bicause they can iourney more myles a day than those that be of farther yeares. Truely I confesse, that with great paynes they please sutch Venerial Gentlewomen as you be, who doe not perceyue (like sauage Beastes) what heapes of euill doe lurke vnder the forme of fayre apparance. Younge men be not content with one Louer, but so many as they behold, they do desire, and of so many they think themselues worthy: wherefore their loue cannot be stable. And that this is true, thou mayest now be thine owne wytnesse. And yong men thynkyng themselues worthy to be honoured and cherished of theyr Ladies, haue none other glory but to vaunt themselues of those whome they have enioyed: whych fault maketh many to yeld themselues to those that be discrete and wise, and to sutch as be no blabbes or Teltales. And where thou sayest that thy loue is knowne to none, but to thy mayde and me, thou art deceiued, if thou beleue the same, for al the inhabitants of the streete wherein thy Louer dwelleth, and the streete also wherein thy house doth stand, talke of nothynge more than of your Loue. But many times in sutch cases, the party whome sutch Brute doth touch, is the last that knoweth it. Moreouer, young men do robbe thee, where they of elder yeares do gyue thee. Thou then (which hast made sutch choyse), remayne to him whome thou hast chosen, and me (whom thou floutest) gyue leaue to apply to an other: for I haue found a Woman to bee my fryend, which is of an other discretion than thou art, and knoweth me better than thou dost. And that thou mayst in an other world be more certaine of myne Eyes desire, than thou hitherto art, throwe thy selfe downe so soone as thou canst, that thy soule already (as I suppose) receiued betwene the armes of the diuel hym selfe may se if mine eyes be troubled or not, to view thee breake thy Necke. But bicause I think thou wilt not do me that good turne, I say if the Sunne begin to warme thee, remember the cold thou madest me suffer, which if thou canst mingle with that heat, no doubt thou shalt feele the same more temperate." The comfortlesse Woman seeing that the Scholler's words tended but to cruell end, began to weepe and said: "Now then sith nothing can moue thee to take pity for my sake, at lest wise for the loue of hir, whom thou saiest to be of better discretion than I, take some compa.s.sion: for hir sake (I say) whom thou callest thy friend, pardon mee and bryng hither my clothes that I may put them on, and cause me if it please thee to come down from hence." Then the Scholler began to laugh, and seing that it was a good while past III. of the clocke, he answered: "Well go to, for that woman's sake I cannot wel say nay, or refuse thy request, tel me where thy garments be, and I wyll go seke them, and cause thee to come downe." She beleuing hym, was some what comforted, and told hym the place where she had bestowed them. And the Scholler going out of the Toure, commaunded his seruaunt to tarry there, and to take heede that none went in vntil he came againe. Then he departed to one of hys friends houses, where he wel refreshed himselfe, and afterwards when he thought time, he layd him downe to slepe. Al that s.p.a.ce mistresse Helena whych was styll vpon the Toure, and recomforted with a lyttle foolish hope, sorrowful beyonde measure, began to sit downe, seeking some shadowed place to bestow hir selfe, and with bitter thoughts and heauy cheare in good deuotion, wayted for his comming, now musing, now wepyng, then hopyng, and sodaynely dispayring the Scholler's retourne wyth hir Clothes: and chaunging from one thought to another, like one that was weary of trauel, and had taken no rest al the Nyght, she fel into a litle slumbre. But the Sun whych was pa.s.sing hote, being aboute noone, glaunced his burning beames vpon hir tender body and bare head, with sutch force, as not only it singed the flesh in sight, but also did chip and parch the same with sutch rosting heat, as she which soundly slepte, was constrayned to wake: and feling that raging warmth, desirous somewhat to remoue hir self, she thought in turning that all hir tosted flesh had opened and broken, like vnto a skyn of parchement holden against the fire: besides with payne extreame, hir head began to ake, with sutch vehemence, as it seemed to be knocked in pieces: and no maruel, for the pament of the Toure was so pa.s.sing hotte, as neither vpon hir feete, or by other remedy, shee could find place of rest. Wherefore without power to abide in one place, she stil remoued to and fro wepying bitterly. And moreouer, for that no Wynd did blow, the Toure was haunted wyth sutch a swarme of Flies, and Gnats, as they lighting vppon hir parched flesh, did so cruelly byte and stinge hir, that euery of them seemed worsse than the prycke of a Nedle, which made hir to bestirre hir hands, incessantly to beate them off cursing still hir selfe, hir Lyfe, hir friend and Scholler. And being thus and with sutch pain bitten and afflicted with the vehement heat of the Sun, with the Flies and gnats, hungry, and mutch more thyrsty, a.s.sailed with a thousand grieuous thoughts, she arose vp, and began to loke about hir if she could heare or see any person, purposing whatsoeuer came of it to call for helpe. But hir ill fortune had taken way al this hoped meanes of hir reliefe: for the Husbandmen and other Laborers were al gone out of the fields to shrowd themselues from the heate of the day, sparing their trauail abrode, to thresh their corn and doe other things at home, by reason whereof she neither saw nor hearde any thing, except b.u.t.terflies, humble bees, crickets, and the riuer of Arno, which making hir l.u.s.t to drink of the water quenched hir thirst nothing at al, but rather did augment the same. She sawe besides in many places, woodes, shadows and houses, which lykewyse did breede hir double grief, for desire she had vnto the same. But what shal we speak any more of this vnhappy woman? The Sunne aboue, and the hot Toure paiment below, wyth the bitings of the flies and gnats, had on euery part so dressed hir tender corps, that where before the whitenesse of hir body did pa.s.se the darkenesse of the Night, the same was become red, al arayed and spotted wyth gore bloud, that to the beholder and viewer of hir state, she seemed the most yll sauored thyng of the Worlde: and remayning in thys plyght without hope or councel, she loked rather for death than other comfort. The Scholler after the Clocke had rounded three in the afternoon, awaked, and remembring his lady, went to the Toure to see what was become of hir, and sent his man to dinner, that had eaten nothing all that day. The Gentlewoman hearing the Scholler, repayred so feeble and tormented as shee was, vnto the trap doore, and sitting vppon the same, pityfully weeping began to say: "Rinieri, thou art beyonde measure reuenged on me, for if I made thee freese all night in mine open Court, thou haste tosted me to day vppon this Toure, nay rather burnt with heate, consumed me: and besides that, to dye and sterue for hunger, and thirst.

Wherefore I pray thee for G.o.d's sake to come vp, and sith my heart is faynt to kill my selfe, I pray thee heartely speedily to do it. For aboue all things I desire to dy, so great and bitter is the torment which I endure. And if thou wilt not shewe me that fauor, yet cause a gla.s.se of Water to be brought vnto me, that I may moysten my mouth, sith my teares bee not able to coole the same, so great is the drouth and heate I haue within."

Wel knew the Scholler by hir voyce, hir weake estate, and sawe besides the most part of hir body all tosted with the Sunne: by the viewe whereof, and humble sute of hir, he conceiued a little pitty. Notwythstanding he aunsweared hir in this wise: "Wicked woman thou shalt not dye with my hands, but of thine owne, if thou desire the same, and so mutch water shalt thou haue of me for coolinge of thine heate, as dampned Diues had in h.e.l.l at Lazarus handes, when he lifted up his cry to Abraham, holdinge that saued wighte within his blessed bosome, or as I had fire of thee for easing of my colde. The greater is my griefe that the vehemence of my colde must be cured with the heate of sutch a stincking carion beast, and thy heate healed with the coldnesse of most Soote and sauerous Water distilled from the orient Rose.

And where I was in daunger to loose my Limmes, and life, thou wilt renew thy Beauty like the Serpent that casteth his Skin once a yeare." "Oh myserable wretch" (sayd the woman) "G.o.d gieue him sutch Beauty gotten in this sorte, that wisheth me sutch euill. But (thou more cruell than any other beast) what heart haste thou, thus like a Tyraunte to deale with me? What more grieuous payne coulde I endure of thee, or of any other, than I do, if I had killed, and done to death thy parents or whole race of thy stocke and kin with most cruel torments? Truely I know not what greater tyranny coulde be vsed agaynst a Trayter that had sacced or put a whole Citty to the sword, than that thou haste done to me, to make my flesh to bee the foode and rost meate of the Sunne, and the baite for licorous flies, not vouchsafing to reach hither a simple gla.s.se of Water whych would haue bene graunted to the condempned Theefe, and Manqueller, when they be haled forth to hanging, yea wine most commonly, if they aske the same. Now for that I see thee still remayne in obstinate mind, and that my pa.s.sion can nothinge mooue thee, I wyll prepare paciently to receiue my death, that G.o.d may haue mercy on my soule, whom I humbly beseech with his righteous eyes to beholde that cruell act of thyne." And with those woords, she approched with payne to the middle of the terra.s.se, despayring to escape that burning heate, and not onely once, but a thousande times, (besides hir other sorowes) she thought to sowne for thirst, and bitterly wept without ceasing, complayning hir mishap. But being almost night, the Scholler thought hee had done inough, wherefore he tooke hir clothes, and wrapping the same within his seruaunt's cloke, he went home to the Gentlewoman's house where he founde before the gate, hir mayde sitting al sad and heauy, of whom he asked where hir mistresse was. "Syr," (sayd she) "I cannot tell, I thought this morning to finde hir a Bed, where I left hir yester night, but I cannot finde hir there, nor in any other place, ne yet can tell wheather to goe seeke hir, which maketh my hearte to throb some misfortune chaunced vnto hir. But (sir quod she) cannot you tell where she is?" The Scholler aunswered: "I would thou haddest bene with hir in the place where I left hir, that I might haue bene reuenged on thee so well, as I am of hir. But beleue a.s.suredly, that thou shalt not escape my handes vntill I pay thee thy desert, to the intent hereafter in mocking other, thou mayst haue cause to remember me." When hee had sayde so, hee willed his man to gieue the mayde hir Mistresse Clothes, and then did bidde hir seeke hir out if shee would. The Seruaunte did his Mayster's commaundment, and the Mayde hauinge receyued them, knewe them by and by, and markinge well the scholler's wordes, she doubted least hee had slayne hir Mistresse, and mutch adoe she had to refrayne from crying out. And the Scholler being gone, she tooke hir Mistresse Garments, and ran vnto the Toure. That day by hap, one of the Gentlewoman's labouring Men had two of his hogges runne a stray, and as he went to seeke them (a little while after the Scholler's departure) he approched neare the Toure looking round about if he might see them. In the busie searche of whom hee heard the miserable playnt that the vnhappy Woman made, wherefore so loude as he coulde, be cried out: "Who weepeth there aboue?" The Woman knew the voice of hir man, and calling him by his name, shee sayde vnto him: "Goe home I pray thee to call my mayde and cause her to come vp hither vnto me." The fellow knowing his mistresse voice sayd vnto hir: "What Dame, who hath borne you vp so hygh?

Your mayde hath sought you al this day, and who would haue thought to finde you there?" He then taking the staues of the Ladder, did set it vp against the Toure as it ought to be, and bounde the steppes that were wanting, with fastenings of Wyllowe twigges, and sutch like pliant stuffe as he could finde. And at that instant the mayde came thither, who so soone as she was entred the Toure, not able to forbeare hir voyce, beating hir hands, shee began to crye: "Alas sweete Mistresse where be you?"

She hearing the voyce of hir Mayde aunswered so well as shee could: "Ah (sweete Wench) I am heere aboue, cry no more, but bring me hither my clothes." When the mayde heard hir speake, by and by for ioy, in haste she mounted vp the Ladder, which the Labourer had made ready, and with his helpe gat vp to the Terra.s.se of the Toure, and seeing hir Mystresse resembling not a humayne body but rather a wodden f.a.ggot halfe consumed with fire, all weary and whithered, lying a long starke naked vppon the Grounde, she began with hir Nayles to wreke the griefe vpon hir Face, and wept ouer hir with sutch vehemency as if she had beene deade. But hir Dame prayed hir for G.o.d's sake to holde hir peace, and to help hir to make hir ready: and vnderstanding by hir, that no man knewe where she was become, except they which caried home hir clothes, and the Labourer that was present there, shee was somewhat recomforted, and prayed them for G.o.d's sake to say nothing of that chaunce to any person. The Laborer after mutch talke, and request to his Mistresse, to be of good cheere, when shee was rysen vp, caried hir downe vpon his Necke, for that she was not able to goe so farre, as out of the Toure.

The poore Mayde which came behinde, in goinge downe the Ladder without takinge heede, hir foote fayled, and fallinge downe to the Grounde, shee brake hir Thigh, for griefe whereof she roared, and cryed out lyke a Lyon. Wherefore the Labourer hauing placed his Dame vpon a greene banke, went to see what hurt the Mayde had taken, and perceyued that she had broken hir Thigh, he caried hir likewise vnto that banke, and placed hir besides hir mistresse, who seeing one mischiefe vppon another to chaunce, and that she of whom she hoped for greater help, than of any other, had broken hir Thigh, sorrowfull beyonde measure, renewed hir cry so miserably, as not onely the Labourer was not able to comforte hir, but he himself began to weepe for company. The Sunne hauinge trauayled into hys Westerne course, and taking his farewell by settling himselfe to rest, was at the poynct of goinge downe. And the poore desolate woman vnwilling to be benighted, went home to the Labourer's house, where taking two of his Brothers, and his Wyfe, returned to fetch the Mayde, and caried hir home in a Chayre. Then cheering vp hys Dame with a little fresh water, and many fayre Wordes, he caried hir vpon his Necke into a Chaumber, afterwardes his Wyfe made hir warm Drinks and Meates, and putting of hir clothes, layd hir in hir Bed, and tooke order that the mistresse and maide that night were caried to Florence, where the Mistresse ful of lies, deuised a Tale all out of order of that which chaunced to hir, and hir Mayde, making hir Brethren, hir Sisters, and other hir neighbours beleeue, that by flush of lightning, and euill Sprites, hir face and body were Blistered, and the Mayde stroken vnder the a.r.s.e bone with a Thunderbolt. Then Physitians were sent for, who not without greate griefe, and payne to the Woman (which many tymes left hir Skin sticking to the Sheets) cured hir cruell Feuer, and other hir diseases, and lykewise the mayde of hir Thigh: which caused the Gentlewoman to forget hir Louer, and from that time forth wisely did beware and take heede whom she did mocke, and where she did bestow hir loue. And the Scholler knowing that the Mayde had broken hir Thigh, thought himselfe sufficiently reuenged, ioyfully pa.s.sing by them both many times in silence. Beholde the reward of a foolish wanton widow for hir Mockes and Flouts, thinking that no greate care or more prouident heede ought to be taken in iesting with a Scholler, than with any other common person, nor well remembring how they doe know (not all, I say, but the greatest parte) where the Diuell holdeth his Tayle: and therefore take heede good Wyues, and Wydowes, how you giue your selues to mockes and daliaunce, specially of Schollers. But nowe turne we to another Wyddow that was no amorous Dame but a sober Matrone, a motherly Gentlewoman, that by pitty, and Money Redeemed, and Raunsomed a King's Sonne out of myserable Captiuity, that was vtterly abandoned of all his Friendes. The manner and meanes how the Nouell ensuing shall shewe.

THE THIRTY-SECOND NOUELL.

_A Gentlewoman and Wydow called Camiola of hir owne minde Raunsomed Roland the Kyng's Sonne of Sicilia, of purpose to haue him to hir Husband, who when he was redeemed unkindly denied hir, agaynst whom very Eloquently she Inueyed, and although the Law proued him to be hir Husband, yet for his vnkindnes, shee vtterly refused him._

Bvsa a Gentlewoman of Apulia, maynetayned ten Thousande Romayne souldiers within the walles of Cannas, that were the remnaunte of the army after the ouerthrow there: and yet hir State of Rychesse was saulfe and nothynge dimynished, and left therby a worthy Testimony of Lyberality as Valerius Maximus affirmeth. If this worthy woman Busa for Liberality is commended by auncient Authors: if she deserue a Monument amongs famous Wryters for that splendent vertue which so brightly blasoneth the Heroicall natures of n.o.ble dames, then may I bee so bolde amonges these Nouels to bring in (as it were by the hand) a Wyddow of Messina, that was a Gentlewoman borne, adorned with pa.s.sing beauty and vertues. Amongs the rancke of which hir comely Qualities, the vertue of Liberality glistered lyke the morninge Starre after the Night hath cast of his darke and Cloudy Mantell. This Gentlewoman remayning in Wyddowes state, and hearing tell that one of the Sonnes of Federicke, and Brother to Peter that was then King of the sayd Ilande called Rolande, was caried Prysoner to Naples, and there kept in miserable Captiuity, and not like to bee redeemed by his Brother for a displeasure conceyued, nor by any other, pittying the state of the young Gentleman, and mooued by hir gentle, and couragious disposition, and specially with the vertue of liberality, raunsomed the sayd Rolande, and craued no other interest or vsury for the same, but him to husband, that ought upon his knees to haue made sute to be hir slaue and seruaunte for respect of his miserable state of Imprisonment. An affiaunce betweene them was concluded, and he redeemed, and when hee was returned, hee falsed his former fayth, and cared not for hir: for which vnkinde part, she before his Frends inueyeth agaynst that ingrat.i.tude, and vtterly forsaketh him, when (sore ashamed) he would very fayne haue recouered hir good wil. But she like a wise gentlewoman well waying his inconstant mynde before mariage, l.u.s.ted not to taste or put in proofe the fruicts and successe thereof. The intire Discourse of whom you shall briefly and presently vnderstand.

Camiola a widow of the City of Siena, the Daughter of a gentle Knight called Signor Lorenzo Toringo, was a Woman of great renoume and fame for hir beauty liberality and shamefastnesse, and led a life in Ma.s.sina, (an auncient Citty of Sicile) no lesse commendable than famous, in the company of hir parentes, contenting hirself wyth one only Husbande, while she liued, which was in the tyme when Federick the thirde was Kyng of that Isle: And after their death she was an heyre of very great wealth and ritchesse, which were alwayes by hir conserued and kept in maruellous honest sort. Nowe it chaunced that after the death of Federick, Peter succeedinge by his Commaundement, a great Army by Sea was equipped from Messina, vnder the conduct of Iohn Countee of Chiaramonte, (the most Renoumed in those dayes in Feats of Warre,) for to ayde the people of Lippary, which were so strongly and earnestly besieged, as they were almost all dead and consumed for hunger. In this Army, ouer and besides those that were in pay, many Barons and Gentlemen willingly went vpon their own proper costes, and charges, as well by Sea as Lande, onely for fame, and to be renoumed in armes. This Castell of Lippari was a.s.saulted by G.o.defrey of Squilatio a valiaunt Man, and at that time Admiral to Robert Kyng of Ierusalem and Sicile: Which G.o.defrey by long siege and a.s.sault, had so famished the people within, as dayly he hoped they would surrender. But hauing aduertis.e.m.e.nt (by certayne Brigandens which he had sent abroade to scour the Seas) that the Enimies Army (which was farre greater than his) was at hand, after that he had a.s.sembled all his Nauy togeather in one sure place, he expected the euent of Fortune. The Enimies so soone as they were seased and possessed of the place, without any resistaunce of the places abandoned by G.o.defrey, caried into the Citty at their pleasure all their victualles. which they brought wyth them, for which good happe and chaunce the sayde Countee Iohn being very mutch encouraged and puffed vp wyth pryde, offred Battell to G.o.defrey. Wherefore he not refusing the same, being a man of great corage, in the Night time fortified his Army with Boordes, Timber, and other Rampiers, and hauing put his Nauy in good order, he encouraged his Men to fight, and to doe valiauntly the next day, which done, hee caused the Ankers to bee wayed, and gieuing the signe, tourned the prowees of hys Shyppes agaynst the Sicilians Army, but Countee Iohn who thought that G.o.defrey would not fight, and durst not once looke vpon the great army of the Sicilians, did not put his Fleete in order to fight, but rather in readinesse to pursue the enimies. But seeing the Courage, and the approch of theym that came agaynste him, began to feare, his heart almost fayling him, and repented him that he had required his Enimy to that which he thought neuer to haue obtayned. In sutch wise as mistrusting the Battayle with troubled minde, changing the order giuen, and notwithstanding not to seeme altogither fearefull, incontinently caused his Ships to be put into order after the best maner he could for so little tyme, himselfe gieuing the signe of battell.

In the meane while their enimies being approched neere vnto them, and making a very great noyse with Cryes and Shoutes, furiously entred the Sicilians, which came slowly forth, and hauing first throwne their Hookes and Grapples to stay them, they began the fight with Dartes, Crosse-bowes, and other Shot, in sutch sort as the Sicilians being amazed for the sodayne mutation of Councell, and all enuironned with feare, and the Souldiers of G.o.defrey perceyuing the same, entred their enimies Ships, and comming to blowes, even in a moment all was filled with bloud, by reason whereof the Sicilians, then despayring of themselues, and they that feared turning the prowes fled away: But neuerthelesse the Victorye reclininge towardes G.o.defrey, many of their Ships were drowned, many taken, and diuers Pinna.s.ses by force of their Oares escaped. In that fight died fewe people, but many were hurt, and Ihon the Captayne Generall taken Prysoner, and with him almost all the Barons, which of their own accordes repayred to those Warres, and besides a great number of Souldiers, many Ensignes as well of the field, as of the Galleyes, and specially the mayne Standerd was taken. And in the ende, the Castell being rendred after long Voyages, and great Fortunes by Sea, they were al chayned, caried to Naples and there imprisoned. Amongs those Prisoners, there was a certayne Gentleman named Rowlande, the Naturall Sonne of King Federick deceased, a yong prince very comely and valyaunt. Who not being redeemed, taried alone in prison very sorrowfull to see all others discharged after they had payd their Raunsome and himselfe not to have wherewith to furnish the same. For king Pietro (to whom the care of him appertayned by reason he was his Brother), for that his warres had no better successe, and done contrary to his commaundement, conceyued displeasure so wel agaynst him, as all others which were at that battell. Nowe hee then being prisoner without hope of any liberty, by meanes of the dampishe prison, and his feete clogged with yrons, grewe to bee sicke and feeble. It chaunced by fortune, that Camiola remembred him, and seeing him forsaken of his brethren, had compa.s.syon vppon his missehappe in sutch wise, as she purposed (if honestly she