THE TENTH NOVELL

 

     WHEREIN MAY BE OBSERVED, WHAT PALPABLE ABUSES DO MANY TIMES

           PASSE, UNDER THE COUNTERFEIT CLOAKE OF RELIGION

 

  Fryer Onyon, promised certaine honest people of the Countrey, to

shew them a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was with Noah in his

Arke. In sted whereof, he found Coales, which he avouched to be

those very coals, wherewith the same Phoenix was roasted.

 

  When of them had delivered their Novels, Dioneus knowing, that it

remained in him to relate the last for this day: without attending for

any solemne command (after he had imposed silence on them, that

could not sufficiently commend the witty reprehension of Guido),

thus he began. Wise and worthy Ladies, although by the priviledge

you have granted, it is lawfull for me to speake any thing best

pleasing to my self: yet notwithstanding, it is not any part of my

meaning, to varrie from the matter and method, whereof you have spoken

to very good purpose. And therefore, following your footsteppes, I

entend to tell you, how craftily, and with a Rampiar sodainly raised

in his owne defence: a Religious Frier of Saint Anthonies Order,

shunned a shame, which two O wily companions had prepared for him. Nor

let it offend you, if I run into more large discourse, then this day

hath bene used by any, for the apter compleating of my Novell:

because, if you well observe it, the Sun is as yet in the middest of

heaven, and therefore you may the better forbeare me.

  Certaldo, as (perhaps) you know, or have heard, is a Village in

the Vale of Elsa, and under the authority and commaund of our

Florence, which although it be but small: yet (in former times) it

hath bin inhabited with Gentlemen, and people of especiall respect.

A religious Friar of S. Anthonies Order, named Friar Onyon, had long

time used to resort thither, to receive the benevolent almes, which

those charitably affected people in simplicity gave him, and chiefly

at divers daies of the year, when their bounty and devotion would

extend themselves more largely then at other seasons. And so much

the rather, because they thought him to be a good Pastor of holy

life in outward appearance, and carried a name of much greater matter,

then remained in the man indeed; beside, that part of the country

yeilded far more plentifull abundance of Onyons, then all other in

Tuscany elsewhere, a kinde of foode greatly affected by those

Friars, as men alwaies of hungry and good appetite. This Friar Onyon

was a man of litle stature red haire, a chearfull countenance, and the

world afforded not a more crafty companion, then he. Moreover,

albeit he had very little knowledge or learning, yet he was so prompt,

ready and voluble of speech, uttering often he knew not what himselfe:

that such as were not wel acquainted with his qualities, supposed

him to be a singular Rhetoritian, excelling Cicero or Quintilian

themselves; and he was a gossip, friend, or deerely affected, by every

one dwelling in those parts. According to his wonted custome, one time

he went thither in the month of August, and on a Sunday morning,

when all the dwellers thereabout, were present to heare Masse, and

in the chiefest Church above all the rest: when the Friar saw time

convenient for his purpose, he advanced himselfe, and began to

speake in this manner.

  Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, you know you have kept a commendable

custom, in sending yeerly to the poore brethren of our Lord Baron S.

Anthony, both of your Corne and other provision, some more, some

lesse, all according to their power, means, and devotion, to the end

that blessed S. Anthony should be the more carefull of your oxen,

sheep, asses, swine, pigs, and other cattle. Moreover, you have used

to pay (especially such as have their names registred in our

Fraternity) those duties which annually you send unto us. For the

collection whereof, I am sent by my Superior, namely our L. Abbot, and

therfore (with Gods blessing) you may come after noone hither, when

you shal heare the Bels of the Church ring: then wil I make a

predication to you; you shall kisse the Crosse, and beside, because

I know you al to be most devout servants to our Lord Baron S. Anthony,

in especiall grace and favor, I wil shew you a most holy and goodly

Relique, which I my selfe (long since) brought from the holy Land

beyond the seas. If you desire to know what it is, let me tell you,

that it is one of the Feathers of the same Phoenix, which was in the

Arke with the Patriarch Noah. And having thus spoken, he became

silent, returning backe to heare Masse. While hee delivered these

and the like speeches, among the other people then in the church,

there were two shrewde and crafty Companions; the one, named John de

Bragoniero, and the other, Biagio Pizzino. These subtile Fellowes,

after they had heard the report of Fryer Onyons Relique: althogh

they were his intimate friends, and came thither in his company; yet

they concluded betweene themselves, to shew him a tricke of

Legierdumaine, and to steale the Feather from him. When they had

intelligence of Friar Onyons dining that day at the Castle, with a

worthy Friend of his: no sooner was he set at the Table, but away went

they in all haste, to the Inne where the Fryar frequented, with this

determination, that Biagio should hold conference with the Friars boy,

while his fellow ransackt the Wallet, to finde the Feather, and

carry it away with him, for a future observation, what the Friar would

say unto the people, when he found the losse of the Feather, and could

not performe his promise to them.

  The Fryars Boy, whom some called Guccio Balena, some Guccio Imbrata,

and others Guccio Porco, was such a knavish Lad, and had so many bad

qualities, as Lippo Topo the cunning Painter, or the most curious

Poeticall wit, had not any ability to describe them. Friar Onyon

himself did often observe his behaviour, and would make this report

among his Friends. My Boy (quoth he) hath nine rare qualities in

him, and such they are, as if Salomon, Aristotle, or Seneca had

onely but one of them: it were sufficient to torment and trouble all

their vertue, all their senses, and all their sanctity. Consider then,

what manner of man he is like to be, having nine such rarities, yet

voide of all vertue, wit, or goodnes. And when it was demaunded of

Friar Onyon, what these nine rare conditions were: hee having them all

readie by heart, and in rime, thus answered.

 

    Boyes I have knowne, and seene,

      And heard of many:

          But,

    For Lying, Loytring, Lazinesse,

    For Facing, Filching, Filthinesse;

    For Carelesse, Gracelesse, all Unthriftinesse,

      My Boy excelleth any.

 

  Now, over and beside all these admirable qualities, hee hath manie

more such singularities, which (in favour towards him) I am faine to

conceale. But that which I smile most at in him, is, that he would

have a Wife in every place where he commeth, yea, and a good house

to boot too: for, in regard his beard beginneth to shew it selfe,

rising thicke in haire, blacke and amiable, he is verily perswaded,

that all Women will fall in love with him; and if they refuse to

follow him, he will in all hast run after them. But truly, he is a

notable servant to mee, for I cannot speake with any one, and in never

so great secrecy, but he will be sure to heare his part; and when

any question is demanded of me, he standes in such awe and feare of my

displeasure: that he will bee sure to make the first answer, yea or

no, according as he thinketh it most convenient.

  Now, to proceede where we left, Friar Onyon having left this

serviceable youth at his lodging, to see that no bodie should meddle

with his commodities, especially his Wallet, because of the sacred

things therein contained: Guccio Imbrata, who as earnestly affected to

be in the Kitchin, as Birds to hop from branch to branch,

especially, when anie of the Chamber-maides were there, espyed one

of the Hostesses Female attendants, a grosse fat Trugge, low of

stature, ill faced, and worse formed, with a paire of brests like

two bumbards, smelling loathsomely of grease and sweate; downe shee

descended into the Kitchin, like a Kite upon a peece of Carion. This

Boy, or Knave, chuse whither you will style him, having carelesly left

Fryar Onyons Chamber doore open, and all the holy things so much to be

neglected, although it was then the moneth of August, when heate is in

the highest predominance, yet hee would needs sit downe by the fire,

and began to conferre with this amiable creature, who was called by

the name of Nuta.

  Being set close by her, he told her, that he was a Gentleman by

Atturniship, and that he had more millions of Crownes, then all his

life time would serve him to spend; beside those which he payed away

dayly, as having no convenient im-ployment for them.

  Moreover, he knew how to speake, and do such things, as were

beyond wonder or admiration. And, never remembring his olde tatterd

Friars Cowle, which was so snottie and greazie, that good store of

kitchin stuffe might have beene boiled out of it; as also a foule

slovenly Trusse or halfe doublet, all baudied with bowsing, fat

greazie lubberly sweating, and other drudgeries in the Convent

Kitchin, where he was an Officer in the meanest credite. So that to

describe this sweet youth in his lively colours, both for naturall

perfections of body, and artificiall composure of his Garments;

never came the fowlest silks out of Tartaria or India, more ugly or

unsightly to bee lookt upon. And for a further addition to his neate

knavery, his breeches were so rent betweene his legges, his shooes and

stockings had bin at such a mercilesse massacre: that the gallantest

Commandador of Castile (though he had never so lately bin releast

out of slavery) could have wisht for better garments, then he; or make

larger promises, then he did to his Nuta. Protesting to entitle her as

his onely, to free her from the Inne and Chamber thraldomes, if she

would live with him, be his Love, partaker of his present possessions,

and so to succeed in his future Fortunes. All which bravadoes,

though they were belcht foorth with admirable insinuations: yet they

converted into smoke, as all such braggadochio behaviours do, and he

was as wise at the ending, as when he began.

  Our former named two craftie Companions, seeing Guccio Porco so

seriously employed about Nuta, was there-with not a little

contented, because their intended labour was now more then halfe

ended. And perceiving no contradiction to crosse their proceeding,

into Friar Onyons chamber entred they, finding it ready open for their

purpose: where the first thing that came into their hand in search,

was the wallet. When they had opened it, they found a small Cabinet,

wrapped in a great many foldings of rich Taffata; and having

unfolded it, a fine formall Key was hanging thereat: wherwith having

unlockt the Cabinet, they found a faire Feather of a Parrots taile,

which they supposed to bee the verie same, that he meant to shew the

people of Certaldo. And truly (in those dayes) it was no hard matter

to make them beleeve any thing, because the idle vanities of Aegypt

and those remoter parts, had not (as yet) bin seene in Tuscany, as

since then they have bin in great abundance, to the utter ruine

(almost) of Italy.

  And although they might then be knowne to very few, yet the

inhabitants of the Country generally, understoode little or nothing at

all of them. For there, the pure simplicitie of their ancient

predecessors still continuing; they had not seene any Parrots, or so

much as heard any speech of them. Wherefore the two crafty consorts,

not a little joyfull of finding the Feather, tooke it thence with

them, and beecause they would not leave the Cabinet empty, espying

Charcoales lying in a corner of the Chamber, they filled it with them,

wrapping it up againe in the Taffata, and in as demure manner as

they found it. So, away came they with the Feather, neither seene or

suspected by any one, intending now to heare what Friar Onyon would

say, uppon the losse of his precious Relique, and finding the Coales

there placed insted thereof.

  The simple men and women of the country, who had bin at morning

Masse in the Church, and heard what a wonderful Feather they should

see in the after noone, returned in all hast to their houses, where

one telling this newes to another, and gossip with gossip consulting

theron; they made the shorter dinner, and afterward flocked in maine

troopes to the Castle, contending who shold first get entrance, such

was their devotion to see the holy feather. Friar Onyon having

dined, and reposed a litle after his wine, he arose from the table

to the window, where beholding what multitudes came to see the

feather, he assured himselfe of good store of mony. Hereupon, he

sent to his Boy Guccio Imbrata, that uppon the Bels ringing, he should

come and bring the wallet to him. Which (with much ado) he did, so

soone as his quarrell was ended in the kitchin, with the amiable

Chamber-maid Nuta, away then he went with his holy commodities:

where he was no sooner arrived, but because his belly was readie to

burst with drinking water, he sent him to the Church to ring the bels,

which not onely would warme the cold water in his belly, but

likewise make him run as gaunt as a Grey-hound.

  When all the people were assembled in the Church together, Friar

Onyon (never distrusting any injurie offered him, or that his close

commodities had bin medled withal) began his predication, uttering a

thousand lies to fit his purpose. And when he came to shew the feather

of the Phoenix (having first in great devotion finisht the confession)

he caused two goodly torches to be lighted, and ducking downe his head

three severall times, before hee would so much as touch the Taffata,

he opened it with much reverence. So soone as the Cabinet came to be

seen, off went his Hood, lowly he bowed downe his body, and uttering

especial praises of the Phoenix, and sacred properties of the

wonderfull Relique, the Cover of the Cabinet being lifted uppe, he saw

the same to bee full of Coales. He could not suspect his Villaine

boy to do this deede, for he knew him not to be endued with so much

wit, onely hee curst him for keeping it no better, and curst

himselfe also, for reposing trust in such a careles knave, knowing him

to be slothfull, disobedient, negligent, and void of all honest

understanding or grace. Sodainly (without blushing) lest his losse

should be discerned, he lifted his lookes and hands to heaven,

speaking out so loude, as every one might easily heare him, thus: O

thou omnipotent providence, for ever let thy power be praised. Then

making fast the Cabinet againe, and turning himselfe to the people,

with lookes expressing admiration, he proceeded in this manner.

  Lords, Ladies, and you the rest of my worthy Auditors: You are to

understand, that I (being then very young) was sent by my Superiour,

into those parts, where the Sun appeareth at his first rising. And I

had received charge by expresse command, that I should seeke for (so

much as consisted in my power to do) the especiall vertues and

priviledges belonging to Porcellane, which although the boyling

thereof bee worth but little, yet it is very profitable to any but us.

In regard whereof, being upon my journey, and departing from Venice,

passing along the Borgo de Grecia, I proceeded thence (on horseback)

through the Realme of Garbo, so to Baldacca, till I came to Parione;

from whence, not without great extremity of thirst, I arrived in

Sardignia.

  But why do I trouble you with the repetition of so many countries? I

coasted on still, after I had past Saint Georges Arme, into Truffia,

and then into Buffia which are Countries much inhabited, and with

great people. From thence I went into the Land of Lying, where I found

store of the Brethren of our Religion, and many other beside, who

shunned all paine and labour, onely for the love of God, and cared

as little, for the paines and travailes which others tooke, except

some benefit arised thereby to them; nor spend they any money in

this Country, but such as is without stampe. Thence I went into the

Land of Abruzzi, where the men and women goe in Galoches over the

Mountaines, and make them garments of their Swines guts. Not farre

from thence, I found people, that carried bread in their staves, and

wine in Satchels, when parting from them, I arrived among the

Mountaines of Bacchus, where all the waters run downe with a deepe

fall, and in short time, I went on so far, that I found my selfe to be

in India Pastinaca; where I swear to you by the holy habit which I

weare on my body, that I saw Serpents Bye, things incredible, and such

as were never seene before.

 But because I would be loth to lye, so soone as I departed thence,

I met with Maso de Saggio, who was a great Merchant there, and whom

I found cracking Nuts, and selling Cockles by retale. Neverthelesse,

al this while I could not finde what I sought for, and therefore I was

to passe from hence by water, if I intended to travaile thither, and

so into the Holy Land, where coole fresh bread is sold for foure

pence, and the hot is given away for nothing. There I found the

venerable Father (blame me not I beseech you) the most woorthie

Patriarch of Jerusalem, who for the reverence due to the habite I

weare, and love to our Lord Baron Saint Anthony, would have me to

see al the holy Reliques, which he had there under his charge:

wherof there were so many, as if I should recount them all to you, I

never could come to a conclusion. But yet not to leave you

discomforted, I will relate some few of them to you. First of all,

he shewed me the finger of the holy Ghost, so whole and perfect, as

ever it was. Next, the nose of the Cherubin, which appeared to Saint

Frances; with the payring of the naile of a Seraphin; and one of the

ribbes of Verbum caro, fastened to one of the Windowes' covered with

the holy garments of the Catholique Faith. Then he tooke me into a

darke Chappel, where he shewed me divers beames of the Starre that

appeared to the three Kings in the East. Also a Violl of Saint

Michaels sweate, when he combatted with the divell: And the jaw-bone

of dead Lazarus, with many other precious things beside. And because I

was liberall to him, giving him two of the Plaines of Monte Morello,

in the Vulgare Edition, and some of the Chapters del Caprezio, which

he had long laboured in search of; he bestowed on me some of his

Reliques. First, he gave me one of the eye-teeth of Santa Crux; and

a litle Violl, filled with some part of the sound of those Belles,

which hung in the sumptuous Temple of Salomon. Next, he gave mee the

Feather of the Phoenix, which was with Noah in the Arke, as before I

told you. And one of the Woodden Pattens, which the good Saint Gerrard

de Magnavilla used to weare in his travailes, and which I gave (not

long since) to Gerrardo di Bousy at Florence, where it is respected

with much devotion. Moreover, he gave me a few of those Coales,

wherwith the Phoenix of Noah was roasted; all which things I brought

away thence with me. Now, most true it is, that my Superiour would

never suffer mee to shew them any where, untill he was faithfully

certified, whether they were the same precious Reliques, or no. But

perceyving by sundrie Myracles which they have wrought, and Letters of

sufficient credence receyved from the reverend Patriarch, that all

is true, he hath graunted me permission to them, and because I wold

not trust any one with matters of such moment, I my selfe brought them

hither with me. Now I must tell you, that the Feather of the same

Phoenix, I conveyed into a small Cabinet or Casket, because it

should not be bent or broken. And the Coales wherewith the said

Phoenix was roasted, I put into another Casket, in all respects so

like to the former, that many times I have taken one for another. As

now at this instant it hath bin my fortune: for, imagining that I

brought the Casket with the feather, I mistooke my self, and brought

the other with the coales. Wherein doubtles I have not offended,

because I am certaine, that we of our Order do not any thing, but it

is ordred by divine direction, and our blessed Patron the Lorde

Baron Saint Anthony. And so much the rather, because about a senight

hence, the Feast of Saint Anthony is to bee solemnized, against the

preparation whereof, and to kindle your zeale with the greater

fervencie: he put the Casket with the Coales into my hand, meaning,

let you see the Feather, at some more fitting season. And therefore my

blessed Sonnes and Daughters, put off your Bonnets, and come hither

with devotion to looke upon them. But first let me tell you, whosoever

is marked by any of these Coales, with the signe of the Crosse: he

or she shal live all this yeare happily, and no fire whatsoever

shall come neere to touch or hurt them. So, singing a solemne

Antheme in the praise of S. Anthony, he unveyled the Casket, and

shewed the Coales openly.

 The simple multitude, having (with great admiration and reverence)

a long while beheld them, they thronged in crouds to Fryar Onyon,

giving him farre greater offerings, then before they had, and

entreating him to marke them each after other. Whereupon, he taking

the coales in his hand, began to marke their garments of white, and

the veyles on the Womens heads, with Crosses of no meane extendure:

affirming to them, that the more the Coales wasted with making those

great crosses, the more they still encreased in the Casket, as often

before hee had made triall.

  In this manner, having crossed all the Certaldanes (to his great

benefit) and their abuse: he smiled at his sodaine and dexterious

devise, in mockery of them, who thought to have made a scorne of

him, by dispossessing him of the Feather. For Bragoniero and

Pizzino, being present at his Learned predication, and having heard

what a cunning shift he found, to come off cleanly, without the

least detection, and all delivered with such admirable

protestations: they were faine to forsake the Church, least they

should have burst with laughing.

  But when all the people were parted and gone, they met Friar Onyon

at his Inne, where closely they discovered to him, what they had done,

delivering him his Feather againe: which the yeare following, did

yeeld him as much money, as now the Coales had done.

 

  This Novell affoorded equall pleasing to the whole companie, Friar

Onyons Sermon being much commended, but especially his long

Pilgrimage, and the Reliques he had both seene, and brought home

with him. Afterward, the Queene perceiving, that her reigne had now

the full expiration, graciously she arose, and taking the Crowne

from off her owne head, placed [it] on the head of Dioneus, saying. It

is high time Dioneus, that you should taste part of the charge and

paine, which poore women have felt and undergone in their soveraigntie

and government: wherefore, be you our King, and rule us with such

awefull authority, that the ending of your dominion may yeelde us

all contentment. Dioneus being thus invested with the Crowne, returned

this answer.

  I make no doubt (bright Beauties) but you many times have seene as

good, or a better King among the Chessemen, then I am. But yet of a

certainty, if you would be obedient to me, as you ought in dutie

unto a true King: I should grant you a liberall freedome of that,

wherein you take the most delight, and without which, our choisest

desires can never be compleate. Neverthelesse, I meane, that my

government shal be according to mine owne minde. So, causing the

Master of the Houshold to be called for, as all the rest were wont

to do for conference with him: he gave him direction, for al things

fitting the time of his Regiment, and then turning to the Ladies, thus

he proceeded.

  Honest Ladies, we have alreadie discoursed of variable devises,

and so many severall manners of humane industry, concerning the

busines wherewith Lacisca came to acquaint us: that her very words,

have ministred me matter, sufficient for our morrowes conference, or

else I stand in doubt, that I could not have devised a more convenient

Theame for us to talke on. She (as you have all heard) saide, that

shee had not anie neighbour, who came a true Virgin to her Husband,

and added moreover, that she knew some others, who had beguiled

their Husbandes, in very cunning and crafty manner. But setting

aside the first part, concerning the proofe of children, I conceive

the second to bee more apte for our intended argument. In which

respect, my will is (seeing Lacisca hath given us so good an occasion)

that our discoursing to morow, may onely concerne such slye cunning

and deceits, as women have heeretofore used, for satisfying their owne

appetites, and beguiling their Husbands, without their knowledge, or

suspition, and cleanly escaping with them, or no.

  This argument seemed not very pleasing to the Ladies, and

therefore they urged an alteration thereof, to some matter better

suting with the day, and their discoursing: whereto thus he

answered. Ladies, I know as well as your selves, why you would have

this instant argument altered: but to change me from it you have no

power, considering the season is such, as shielding all (both men

and women) from medling with any dishonest action; it is lawfull for

us to speake of what wee please. And know you not, that through the

sad occasion of the time, which now overruleth us, the judges have

forsaken their venerable benches, the Lawes (both divine and humane)

ceasing, granting ample license to every one, to do what best

agreeth with the conservation of life? Therefore, if your honesties

doe straine themselves a little, both in thinking and speaking, not

for prosecution of any immodest deede, but onely for familiar and

blamelesse entercourse: I cannot devise a more convenient ground, at

least that carrieth apparant reason, for reproofe of perils, to

ensue by any of you. Moreover, your company, which hath bin most

honest, since the first day of our meeting, to this instant: appeareth

not any jot to be disgraced, by any thing either said or done, neither

shal be (I hope) in the meanest degree.

  And what is he, knowing your choise and vertuous dispositions, so

powerfull in their owne prevailing, that wanton words cannot

misguide your wayes, no nor the terror of death it selfe, that dare

insinuate a distempred thought? But admit, that some slight or shallow

judgements, hearing you (perhaps sometimes) talke of such amorous

follies, should therefore suspitiously imagine you to be faulty, or

else you would bee more sparing of speech? Their wit and censure are

both alike, savouring rather of their owne vile nature, who would

brand others with their basebred imperfections. Yet ther is another

consideration beside, of som great injury offered to mine honor, and

whereof I know not how you can acquit your selves.

  I that have bin obedient to you all, and borne the heavy load of

your businesse, having now (with full consent) created mee your

King, you would wrest the law out of my hands, and dispose of my

authoritie as you please. Forbeare (gentle Ladies) all frivolotis

suspitions, more fit for them that are full of bad thoughts, then you,

who have true Vertue shining in your eyes; and therefore, let every

one freely speake their minde, according as their humors best pleaseth

them.

  When the Ladies heard this, they made answer, that all should bee

answerable to his minde. Whereupon, the King gave them all leave to

dispose of themselves till supper time. And because the Sun was yet

very high, in regard all the re-counted Novels had bin so short:

Dioneus went to play at the Tables with another of the yong Gentlemen,

and Madame Eliza, having withdrawne the Ladies aside, thus spake

unto them. During the time of our being heere, I have often bene

desirous to let you see a place somwhat neere at hand, and which I

suppose you have never seene, it being called The Valley of Ladies.

Till now, I could not finde any convenient time to bring you

thither, the Sunne continuing still aloft, which fitteth you with

the apter leysure, and the sight (I am sure) can no way discontent

you.

  The Ladies replyed, that they were all ready to walk with her

thither: and calling one of their women to attend on them, they set

on, without speaking a word to any of the men. And within the distance

of halfe a mile, they arrived at the Valley of Ladies, wherinto they

entred by a strait passage at the one side, from whence there issued

forth a cleare running River. And they found the saide Valley to bee

so goodly and pleasant, especially in that season, which was the

hottest of all the yeare; as all the world was no where able to

yeeld the like. And, as one of the said Ladies (since then) related to

mee, there was a plaine in the Valley so directly round, as if it

had beene formed by a compasse, yet rather it resembled the

Workmanship of Nature, then to be made by the hand of man:

containing in circuite somewhat more then the quarter of a mile,

environed with sixe small hils, of no great height, and on each of

them stood a little Palace, shaped in the fashion of Castles.

  The ground-plot descending from those hils or mountaines, grew lesse

and lesse by variable degrees, as wee observe at entering into our

Theaters, from the highest part to the lowest, succinctly to narrow

the circle by order. Now, concerning these ground-plottes or little

Meadowes, those which the Sun Southward looked on, were full of Vines,

Olive-trees, Almond-trees, Cherry-trees, and Figge-trees, with

divers other Trees beside, so plentifully bearing fruites, as you

could not discerne a hands bredth of losse. The other Mountaines,

whereon the Northerne windes blow, were curiously covered with small

Thickets or Woods of Oakes, Ashes, and other Trees so greene and

straite, as it was impossible to behold fairer. The goodly plaine it

selfe, not having any other entrance, but where the Ladies came in,

was planted with Trees of Firre, Cipresse, Laurell, and Pines; so

singularly growing in formall order, as if some artificiall or cunning

hand had planted them, the Sun hardly piercing through their branches,

from the top to the bottome, even at his highest, or any part of his

course.

  All the whole field was richly spred with grasse, and such variety

of delicate Flowers, as Nature yeilded out of her plenteous

Store-house. But that which gave no lesse delight then any of the

rest, was a smal running Brooke, descending from one of the Vallies,

that divided two of the little hils, and fell through a Veine of the

intire Rocke it selfe, that the fall and murmure thereof was most

delightfull to heare, seeming all the way in the descent, like

Quickesilver, weaving it selfe into artificiall workes, and arriving

in the plaine beneath, it was there receyved into a small Channell,

swiftly running through the midst of the plaine, to a place where it

stayed, and shaped it selfe into a Lake or Pond, such as our

Citizens have in their Orchards or Gardens, when they please to make

use of such a commodity.

  This Pond was no deeper, then to reach the breast of a man, and

having no mud or soyle in it, the bottome thereof shewed like small

beaten gravell, with prety pibble stones intermixed, which some that

had nothing else to do, would sit downe and count them as they lay, as

very easily they might. And not onely was the bottome thus

apparantly seene, but also such plenty of Fishes swimming every way,

as the mind was never to be wearied in looking on them. Nor was this

water bounded in with any bankes, but onely the sides of the plain

Medow, which made it appeare the more sightly, as it arose in swelling

plenty. And alwayes as it superabounded in his course, least it should

overflow disorderly: it fell into another Channell, which conveying it

along the lower Valley, ran forth to water other needfull places.

  When the Ladies were arrived in this goodly valley, and upon advised

viewing it, had sufficiently commended it: in regard the heat of the

dry was great, the place tempting, and the Pond free from sight of

any, they resolved there to bathe themselves. Wherefore they sent

the waiting Gentlewoman to have a diligent eye on t way where they

entered, least any one should chance to steale upon them. All seven of

them being stript naked, into the water they went, which hid their

delicate white bodies, like as a cleare Glasse concealeth a Damask

Rose within it. So they being in the Pond, and the water nothing

troubled by their being there, they found much prety pastime together,

running after the Fishes, to catch them with their hands, but they

were overquicke and cunning for them. After they had delighted

themselves there to their owne contentment, and were cloathed with

their garments, as before: thinking it fit time for their returning

backe againe, least their over-long stay might give offence, they

departed thence in an easie pace, dooing nothing else all the way as

they went, but extolling the Valley of Ladies beyond all comparison.

  At the Palace they arrived in a due houre, finding the three

Gentlemen at play, as they left them, to whom Madame Pampinea

pleasantly thus spake. Now trust me Gallants, this day wee have very

cunningly beguiled you. How now? answered Dioneus, begin you first

to act, before you speake? Yes truly Sir, replyed Madame Pampinea:

  Relating to him at large, from whence they came, what they had

done there, the beautie of the place, and the distance thence. The

King (upon hir excellent report) being very desirous to see it;

sodainely commaunded Supper to be served in, which was no sooner

ended, but they and their three servants (leaving the Ladies) walked

on to the Valley, which when they had considered, no one of them

having ever bin there before; they thought it to be the Paradise of

the World.

  They bathed themselves there likewise, as the Ladies formerlie had

done, and being re-vested, returned backe to their Lodgings, because

darke night drew on apace: but they found the Ladies dauncing, to a

Song which Madame Fiammetta sung. When the dance was ended, they

entertained the time with no other discourse, but onely concerning the

Valley of Ladies, whereof they all spake liberally in commendations.

Whereupon, the King called the Master of the Houshold, giving him

command, that (on the morrow) dinner should be readie betimes, and

bedding to be thence carried, if any desired rest at mid-time of the

day.

  All this being done, variety of pleasing Wines were brought,

Banquetting stuffe, and other dainties; after which they fell to

Dauncing. And Pamphilus, having receyved command to begin an

especial dance, the King turned himselfe unto Madame Eliza, speaking

thus. Faire Lady, you have done me so much honour this day, as to

deliver mee the Crowne: in regard whereof, be you this night the

Mistresse of the song: and let it be such as best may please your

selfe. Whereunto Madam Eliza, with a modest blush arising in her face,

replyed; That his will should be fulfilled, and then (with a

deficate voyce) she beganne in this manner.