THE SEVENTH NOVELL

 

   A LIVELY DEMONSTRATION, THAT THE BEAUTY OF A WOMAN (OFTENTIMES)

            IS VERY HURTFULL TO HER SELFE, AND THE OCCASION

            OF MANY EVILS, YEA, AND OF DEATH, TO DIVERS MEN

 

  The Soldan of Babylon sent one of his Daughters, to be joyned in

marriage with the King of Cholcos, who by divers accidents (in the

space of foure yeeres) happened into the custodie of nine men, and

in sundry places. At length, being restored backe to her Father, she

went to the saide King of Cholcos, as a Maid, and as at first she

was intended to be his wife.

 

  Peradventure the Novell related by Madam Aemillia, did not extend it

selfe so farre in length, as it mooved compassion in the Ladies

mindes, the hard fortunes of Beritol and her Children, which had

incited them to weeping: but that it pleased the Queen (upon the Tales

conclusion) to command Pamphilus, to follow next in order with his

Discourse; and he being thereto very obedient, began in this manner.

  It is a matter of no meane difficulty (vertuous Ladies) for us to

take intire knowledge of every thing we doe, because (as oftentimes

hath bene observed) many men, imagining if they were rich, they should

live securely, and without any cares. And therefore, not onely have

theyr prayers and intercessions aimed at that end, but also their

studies and daily endevours, without refusall of any paines or

perils have not meanely expressed their hourely solicitude. And

although it hath happened accordingly to them, and their covetous

desires fully accomplished; yet at length they have mette with such

kinde people, who likewise thirsting after their wealthy

possessions, have bereft them of life, being their kinde and

intimate friends, before they attained to such riches. Some other,

being of lowe and base condition, by adventuring in many skirmishes

and foughten battels, trampling in the bloud of their brethren and

friends, have bene mounted to the soveraigne dignity of Kingdomes

(beleeving that therein consisted the truest happinesse) but bought

with the deerest price of their lives. For, beside their infinit cares

and feares wherewith such greatnesse is continually attended, at the

royall Tables, they have drunke poyson in a Golden pot. Many other

in like manner (with most earnest appetite) have coveted beauty and

bodily strength, not foreseeing with any judgement, that these

wishes were not without perill; when being endued with them, they

either have bene the occasion of their death, or such a lingering

lamentable estate of life, as death were a thousand times more welcome

to them.

  But, because I would not speake particularly of all our fraile and

humane affections, I dare assure ye, that there is not any one of

these desires to be elected among us mortals, with entire forsight

or providence, warrantable against their ominous yssue. Wherefore,

if we would walke directly, wee should dispose our willes and

affections, to be guided onely by him, who best knoweth what is

needfull for us, and will bestow them at his good pleasure. Nor let me

lay this blamefull imputation uppon men onely, for offending in many

through over lavish desires: because you your selves (gracious Ladies)

sinne highly in one, as namely, in coveting to be beautifull. So

that it is not sufficient for you, to enjoy those beauties bestowne on

you by Nature; but you practice to increase them by the rarities of

Art. Wherefore, let it not offend you, that I tell you the hard

fortune of a faire Sarazine, to whom it hapned by straunge adventures,

that within the compasse of foure yeares, nine severall times to be

married. and onely for her beauty.

  It is now a long time since, that there lived Soldane in Babylon,

named Beminidab, to whom (while he lived) many things happened,

answerable to his owne desires. Among divers other Children both

male and female, hee had a daughter called Alathiella, and shee

(according to the common voyce of every one that saw her) was the

fayrest Lady then living in all the world. And because the King of

Cholcos had wonderfully assisted him, in a most valiant foughten

battell against a mighty Armie of Arabians, who on a sodaine had

assailed him; he demanded his faire daughter in marriage, which

likewise was kindly granted to him. Whereupon a goodly and

well-armed Ship was prepared for her, with full furnishment of all

necessary provision, and accompanied with an honourable traine both of

Lords and Ladies, as also most costly and sumptuous accoustrements;

commending her to the mercy of heaven, in this maner was she sent

away.

  The time being propitious for their parting thence, the Mariners

hoised their sayles, leaving the port of Alexandria, and sayling

prosperously many dayes together. When they had past the Countrey of

Sardinia, and (as they imagined) were well neere to their journeyes

end; sodainely arose boysterous and contrary windes, which were so

impetuous beyond all measure, and so tormented the Ship wherein the

Lady was; that the Mariners seeing no signe of comfort, gave over

all hope of escaping with life. Neverthelesse, as men most expert in

implacable dangers, they laboured to their uttermost power, and

contended with infinite blustring tempests, for the space of two dayes

and nights together, hoping the third day would prove more favourable.

But therein they saw themselves deceyved, for the violence continued

still, encreasing in the night time more and more, being not any way

able to comprehend either where they were, or what course they

tooke, neither by Marinall judgement, or any apprehension else

whatsoever, the heavens were so clouded, and the nights darkenesse

so extreame.

 Beeing (unknowne to them) neere the Isle of Majorica, they felt the

Shippe to split in the bottome: by meanes whereof, perceiving now no

hope of escaping (every one caring for himselfe, and not any other)

they threw foorth a Squiffe on the troubled waves, reposing more

confidence of safety that way, then abiding any longer in the broken

ship. Howbeit such as were first descended downe, made stout

resistance against all other followers, with their drawne weapons: but

safety of life so far prevayled, that what with the Tempests violence,

and over lading of the Squiffe, it sunke to the bottome, and all

perished that were therein. The Ship being thus split, and more then

halfe full of water, tossed and tormented by the blustring windes,

first one way, and then another: was at last driven into a strond of

the Isle Majorica, no other persons therein remaining, but onely the

Lady and her women, all of them (through the rude tempest, and their

owne conceived feare) lying still, as if they were more then halfe

dead. And there, within a stones cast of the neighboring shore the

ship (by the rough surging billowes) was fixed fast in the sands,

and so continued all the rest of the night, without any further

molestation of the windes.

  When day appeared, and the violent stormes were more mildly appeased

the Ladie, who seemed well-neere dead, lifted up her head, and began

(weake as she was) to call first one, and then another: but shee

called in vaine, for such as she named were farre enough from her.

Wherefore, hearing no answere, nor seeing any one, she wondred

greatly, her feares encreasing then more and more. Raising her selfe

so well as shee could, she beheld the Ladies that were of her company,

and some other of her women, lying still without any stirring:

whereupon, first jogging one, and then another, and calling them

severally by their names; shee found them bereft of understanding, and

even as if they were dead, their hearts were so quayled, and their

feare so over-ruling, which was no meane dismay to the poore Lady

her selfe. Neverthelesse, necessity now being her best counsellor,

seeing her selfe thus all alone, and not knowing in what place shee

was, shee used such meanes to them that were living, that (at the

last) they came to better knowledge of themselves. And being unable to

guesse, what was become of the men and Marriners, seeing the Ship also

driven on the sands, and filled with water, she began with them to

lament most greevously: and now it was about the houre of mid day,

before they could descry any person on the shore, or any els to pity

them in so urgent a necessity.

  At length, noone being past, a Gentleman named Bajazeth, attended by

divers of his followers on horsebacke, and returning from a Countrie

house belonging to him, chanced to ride by on the sands. Uppon sight

of the Ship lying in that case, he imagined truely what had hapned,

and commanded one of his men to enter aboord it, which (with some

difficultie) hee did, to resolve his Lord what remained therein. There

hee found the faire yong Lady, with such small store of company as was

left her, fearefully hidden under the prow of the Ship. So soone as

they saw him, they held up their hands, wofully desiring mercy of him:

but he perceiving their lamentable condition, and that hee understoode

not what they saide to him, their affliction grew the greater,

labouring by signes and gestures, to give him knowledge of their

misfortune.

  The servant gathering what he could by their outward behaviour,

declared to his Lord what hee had seene in the Ship; who caused the

Women to be brought on shore, and all the precious things remaining

with them; conducting them with him to a place not far off, where with

food and warmth he gave them comfort. By the rich garments which the

Lady was cloathed withall, he reputed her to be a Gentlewoman well

derived, as the great reverence done to her by the rest, gave him good

reason to conceive. And although her lookes were pale and wan, as also

her person mightily altered, by the tempestuous violence of the Sea:

yet notwithstanding, she appeared faire and lovely in the eye of

Bajazeth, whereupon forthwith he determined, that if she were not

married, hee would enjoy her as his owne in marriage: or if he could

not winne her to bee his wife, yet (at the least) shee should be his

friend, because she remained now in his power.

  Bajazeth was a man of stearne lookes, rough and harsh both in speech

and behaviour; yet causing the Lady to be honourably used divers dayes

together, shee became thereby well comforted and recovered. And seeing

her beautie to exceede all comparison, he was afflicted beyond

measure, that he could not understand her, nor she him, whereby hee

could not know of whence or what she was. His amorous flames

encreasing more and more; by kinde, courteous, and affable actions, he

laboured to compasse what he aymed at. But all his endeavour proved to

no purpose, for she refused all familiar privacie with him, which so

much the more kindled the fury of his fire. This being well observed

by the Lady, having now remained there a moneth and more, and

collecting by the customes of the Countrey, that she was among Turkes;

and in such a place, where although she were knowne, yet it would

little advantage her; beside, that long protraction of time would

provoke Bajazeth by faire meanes or force to obtaine his will: she

propounded to her selfe (with magnanimity of spirit) to tread all

misfortunes under her feete, commanding her Women (whereof shee had

but three now remaining alive) that they should not disclose what

she was, except it were in some such place, where manifest signes

might yeeld hope of regaining their liberty. Moreover, she

admonished them stoutly to defend their honour and chastity;

affirming, that she had absolutely resolved with her selfe, that never

any other shou enjoy her, but her intended husband: wherein her

women did much commend her, promising to preserve their reputation,

according as shee had commanded.

  Day by day, were the torments of Bajazeth wonderfully augmented, yet

still his kinde offers scornefully refused, and he as farre off from

compassing his desires, as when he first beganne to moove the

matter: wherefore, perceiving that all faire courses served to no

effect, hee resolved to compasse his purpose by craft and subtilty,

reserving rigorous extremitie for his finall conclusion. And having

once observed, that wine was verie pleasing to the Lady, she being

never used to drinke any at all, because (by her Countries Law) it was

forbidden her: and no meane store having beene lately brought to

Bajazeth in a Barke of Geneway: hee resolved to surprize her by meanes

thereof, as a cheefe minister of Venus, to heate the coolest blood.

And seeming now in his outward behaviour, as if hee had given over his

amorous pursuite, and which she strove by all her best endeavours to

withstand: one night, after a very majesticke and solemne manner,

hee prepared a delicate and sumptuous supper, whereto the Lady was

invited: and hee had given order, that hee who attended on her Cup,

should serve her with many Wines compounded and mingled together;

which hee accordingly performed, as being cunning enough in such

occasions.

  Alathiella mistrusting no such trechery intended against her, and

liking the Wines pleasing taste extraordinarily, dranke more then

stoode with her precedent modest resolution, and forgetting all her

passed adversities, became very frolicke and merry: so that seeing

some women dance after the manner observed there in Majorica, she also

fell to dauncing according to the Alexandrian custome. Which when

Bajazeth beheld, he imagined the victory to be more then halfe

wonne, and his hearts desire verie neere the obtaining: plying her

still with wine upon wine, and continuing this revelling the most part

of the night.

  At the length, the invited guests being all gone, the Lady retyred

then to her chamber, attended on by none but Bajazeth himselfe, and as

familiarly as if he had bene one of her women, shee no way

contradicting his bold intrusion, so farre had wine over-gone her

sences, and prevailed against all modest bashfulnesse. These wanton

embracings, strange to her that had never tasted them before, yet

pleasing beyond measure, by reason of his treacherous advantage;

afterward drew on many more of the ike carowsing meetings, without

so much as thought of her passed miseries, or those more honourable

and chaste respects, that ever ought to attend on Ladies.

  Now, Fortune envying thus their stollen pleasures, and that shee,

being the purposed wife of a potent King, should thus become the

wanton friend of a much mean man, whose onely glory was her shame;

altered the course of their too common pastimes, by preparing a

farre greater infelicity for them. This Bajazeth had a Brother, aged

about five and twenty yeeres, of most compleate person, in the very

beauty of his time, and fresh as the sweetest smelling Rose, he

being named Amurath. After he had once seene this Ladie (whose faire

feature pleased him beyond all womens else) shee seemed in his sodaine

apprehension, both by her outward behaviour and civill apparancie,

highly to deserve his verie best opinion, for she was not meanely

entred into his favour. Now hee found nothing to his hinderance, in

obtaining the heighth of his hearts desire, but onely the strict

custodie and guard, wherein his brother Bajazeth kept her: which

raised a cruell conceite in his minde, wherein followed (not long

after) as cruell an effect.

  It came to passe, that at the same time; in the Port of the

Cittie, called Caffa, there lay then a Ship laden with Merchandize,

being bound thence for Smyrna, of which Ship two Geneway Merchants

(being brethren) were the Patrons and Owners, who had given

direction for hoysing the sailes to depart thence when the winde

should serve. With these two Genewayes Amurath had covenanted, for

himselfe to goe aboord the ship the night ensuing, and the Lady in his

company. When night was come, having resolved with himselfe what was

to be done: in a disguised habite hee went to the house of Bajazeth,

who stood not any way doubtfull of him, and with certaine of his

most faithfull Confederates (whom he had sworne to the intended

action) they hid themselves closely in the house. After some part of

the night was over-past, he knowing the severall lodgings both of

Bajazeth and Alathiella, slew his brother soundly sleeping; and

seizing on the Lady, whom he found awake and weeping, threatned to

kill her also, if she made any noyse. So, being well furnished with

the greater part of worldly jewels belonging to Bajazeth, unheard or

undescried by any body, they went presently to the Port, and there

(without any further delay) Amurath and the Lady were received into

the Ship, but his companions returned backe againe; when the Mariners,

having their sailes ready set, and the winde aptly fitting for them,

lanched forth merrily into the maine.

  You may well imagine, that the Ladie was extraordinarily afflicted

with greefe for her first misfortune; and now this second chancing

so sodainely, must needs offend her in greater manner: but Amurath did

so kindely comfort her with milde, modest, and manly perswasions, that

all remembrance of Bajazeth was quickely forgotten, and shee became

converted to lovely demeanor, even when Fortune prepared a fresh

miserie for her, as not satisfied with those whereof shee had tasted

already. The Lady being unequalled for beauty (as I said before) her

behaviour also in such exquisit and commendable kinde expressed; the

two Brethren owners of the Ship, became so deeply enamored of her,

that forgetting all their more serious affaires, they studied by all

possible meanes, to be pleasing and gracious in her eye, yet with such

a carefull carriage, that Amurath should neither see, or suspect it.

  When the Brethren had imparted their loves extreamity each to the

other, and plainely perceyved, that though they were equally in

their fiery torments, yet their desires were utterly contrary: they

began severally to consider, that gaine gotten by Mirchandize,

admitted an equall and honest division, but this purchase was of a

different quality, pleading the title of a sole possession, without

any partner or intruder. Fearefull and jealous were they both, least

either should ayme at the others intention, yet willing enough to

shake hands, in ridding Amurath out of the way, who onely was the

hinderer of their hopes, Whereupon they concluded together, that on

a day when the Ship sayled on very swiftly, and Amurath was sitting

upon the Decke, studiously observing how the Billowes combatted each

with other, and not suspecting any such treason in them towards him:

stealing softly behinde him, sodainely they threw him into the Sea,

the shippe floating on above halfe a Leagues distance, before any

perceived his fall into the Sea. When the Ladie heard thereof, and saw

no likely meanes of recovering him againe, she fell to her wonted

teares and lamentations: but the two Lovers came quickely to comfort

her, using kinde words and pithy perswasions (albeit she understood

them not, or at the most very little) to appease the violence of her

passions; and, to speak uprightly, she did not so much emoane the

losse of Amurath, as the multiplying of her owne misfortunes, still

one succeeding in the necke of another. After divers long and well

delivered Orations, as also very faire and courteous behaviour, they

had indifferently pacified her complainings: they beganne to discourse

and commune with themselves, which of them had most right and title to

Alathiella, and consequently ought to enjoy her. Now that Amurath

was gone, each pleaded his priviledge to bee as good as the others,

both in the Ship, Goods, and all advantages else whatsoever happening:

which the elder brother absolutely denied, alleadging first his

propriety of birth, a reason sufficient, whereby his younger ought

to give him place: Likewise, his right and interest both in the ship

and goods, to be more then the others, as being heire to his father,

and therefore in justice to be highest preferred. Last of all, that

his strength onely threw Amurath into the Sea, and therefore gave

him the full possession of his prize, no right at all remaining to his

brother.

  From temperate and calme speeches, they fell to frownes and ruder

Language, which heated their blood in such violent manner, that

forgetting brotherly affection, and all respect of Parents or Friends,

they drew forth their Ponyards, stabbing each other so often and

desperately, that before any in the shippe had the power or meanes

to part them, both of them being very dangerously wounded, the younger

brother fell downe dead: the elder being in little better case, by

receiving so many perilous hurts, remained (neverthelesse) living.

This unhappy accident displeased the Lady very highly, seeing her

selfe thus left alone, without the help or counsell of any bodie;

and fearing greatly, least the anger of the two Brethrens Parents

and Friends, should now bee laide to her charge, and thereon follow

severity of punishment. But the earnest entreaties of the wounded

surviver, and their arrivall at Smirna soone after, delivered him from

the danger of death, gave some ease to her sorrow, and there with

him she went on shore.

 Remaining there with him in a common Inne, while he continued in

the Chirurgians cure, the fame of her singular and much admired beauty

was soone spread abroad throughout all the City: and amongst the rest,

to the hearing of the Prince of Ionia, who lately before (on very

urgent occasions) was come to Smyrna. This rare rumour, made him

desirous to see her, and after he had seene her, shee seemed farre

fairer in his eye, then common report had noised her to be, and

suddenly grew so enamored of her, that she was the onely Idea of his

best desires. Afterward, understanding in what manner shee was brought

thither, he devised how to make her his own, practising all possible

meanes to accomplish it: which when the wounded Brothers Parents heard

of, they not onely made tender of their willingnesse therein, but also

immediately sent her to him: a matter most highly pleasing to the

Prince, and likewise to the Lady her selfe; because she thought now to

be freed from no meane perill, which (otherwise) the wounded Merchants

friends might have inflicted uppon her.

  The Prince perceiving, that beside her matchlesse beauty, shee had

the true character of Royall behaviour; greeved the more, that he

could not be further informed of what Countrey shee was. His opinion

being so stedfastly grounded, that (lesse then Noble) she could not

be, was a motive to set a keener edge on his affection towardes her,

yet not to enjoy her as in honoirable and loving complement onely, but

as his espoused Lady and Wife. Which appearing to her by apparant

demonstrations, though entercourse of speech wanted to confirme it;

remembrance of her so many sad disasters, and being now in a most

noble and respected condition, her comfort enlarged it selfe with a

setled hope, her feares grew free from any more mollestations, and her

beauties became the onely theame and argument of private and publike

conference in all Natolia, that (well-neere) there was no other

discourse, in any Assembly whatsoever.

  Heereupon the Duke of Athens, beeing young, goodly, and valiant of

person as also a neere Kinsman to the Prince, had a desire to see her;

and under colour of visiting his noble Kinsman, (as oftentimes

before he had done) attended with an honourable traine, to Smirna he

came, being there most royally welcommed, and bounteously feasted.

Within some few dayes of his there being, conference passed betweene

them, concerning the rare beauty of the Ladie; the Duke questioning

the Prince, whether shee was of such wonder, as fame had acquainted

the World withall? Whereto the Prince replyed; Much more (Noble

kinsman) then can bee spoken of, as your owne eyes shall witnesse,

without crediting any words of mine. The Duke soliciting the Prince

thereto very earnestly, they both went together to see her; and she

having before heard of their comming, adorned her selfe the more

Majestically, entertaining them with ceremonious demeanor (after her

Countries custome) which gave most gracious and unspeakable acception.

 

  At the Princes affable motion, shee sate downe betweene them,

their delight being beyond expression, to behold her, but abridged

of much more felicitie, because they understood not any part of her

Language: so that they could have no other conference, but by lookes

and outward signes onely; and the more they beheld her, the more

they marvelled at her rare perfections, especially the Duke, who

hardly credited that shee was a mortall creature. Thus not perceyving,

what deepe carowses of amorous poyson his eyes dranke downe by the

meere sight of her, yet thinking thereby onely to bee satisfied, hee

lost both himselfe and his best sences, growing in love (beyond all

measure) with her. When the Prince and he were parted from her, and

hee was at his owne private amorous-meditations in his Chamber, he

reputed the Prince farre happier then any man else whatsoever, by

the enjoying of such a peerelesse beauty.

  After many intricate and distracted cogitations, which molested

his braines incessantly, regarding more his loves wanton heate, then

reason, kindred, and honourable hospitality; he resolutely

determined (whatsoever ensued thereupon) to bereave the Prince of

his faire felicity, that none but himselfe might possesse such a

treasure, which he esteemed to bee the height of all happinesse. His

courage being conformable to his bad intent, with all hast it must

be put in execution; so that equity, justice, and honesty, being quite

abandoned, nothing but subtile stratagems were now his meditations.

  On a day, according to a fore-compacted treachery which he had

ordered with a Gentleman of the Princes Chamber, who was named

Churiacy, he prepared his horses to be in readinesse, and dispatched

all his affaires else for a sodaine departure. The night following,

hee was secretly conveyed by the said Churiacy, and a friend of his

with him (being both armed) into the Princes Chamber, where he

(while the Ladie was soundly sleeping) stood at a gazing window

towards the Sea, naked in his shirt, to take the coole ayre, because

the season was exceeding hot. Having formerly enstructed his friend

what was to be done, very softly they stept to the Prince, and running

their weapons quite thorow his bodie, immediately they threw him forth

of the window.

  Here you are to observe, that the Pallace was seated on the Sea

shore, and verie high, and the Window whereat the Prince then stood

looking foorth, was directly over divers houses, which the long

continuance of time, and incessant beating on by the surges of the

Sea, had so defaced and ruined them, as seldome they were visited by

any person; whereof the Duke having knowledge before, was the easier

perswaded that the falling of the Princes body in so vast a place,

could neither bee heard or descryed by any. The Duke and his

Companion, having thus executed what they came for, proceeded yet in

their cunning a little further; casting a strangling Cord about the

necke of Churiacy, seemed as if they hugged and imbraced him: but drew

it with so maine strength, that he never spake word after, and so

threw him downe after the Prince.

  This done, and plainely perceiving that they were not heard or

seene, either by the Lady, or any other: the Duke tooke a light in his

hand, going on to the bed, where the Lady lay most sweetely

sleeping; whom the more he beheld, the more he admired and

commended: but if in her garments shee appeared so pleasing, what

did shee now in a bed of such state and Majestie? Being no way daunted

with his so late committed sin, but swimming rather in surfet of

joy, his hands all bloody, and his soule much more ugly; he laide

him downe on the bed by her, bestowing infinite kisses and embraces on

her, she supposing him to be the Prince all this while, not opening

her eyes to bee otherwise resolved. But this was not the delight he

aymed at, neither did he thinke it safe for him, to delay time with

any longer tarrying there: Wherefore, having his agents at hand fit

and convenient for the purpose, they surprized her in such sort,

that shee could not make any noyse or outcry, and carrying her through

the same false posterne, whereat themselves had entred, laying her

in a Princely litter; away they went with all possible speede, not

tarrying in any place, untill they were arrived neere Athens. But

thither he would not bring her, because himselfe was a married man,

but rather to a goodly Castle of his owne, not distant farre from

the City; where he caused her to bee kept very secretly (to her no

little greefe and sorrow) yet attended on and served in most

honourable manner.

  The Gentlemen usually attending on the Prince, having waited all the

next morning till noone, in expectation of his rising, and hearing

no stirring in the Chamber, did thrust at the doore, which was but

onely closed together, and finding no body there, they presently

imagined, that he was privately gone to some other place, where

(with the Ladie, whom he so deerely affected) hee might remaine some

few dayes for his more contentment, and so they rested verily

perswaded. Within some few dayes following, while no other doubt

came in question, the Princes Foole, entering by chance among the

ruined houses, where lay the dead bodies of the Prince and Churiacy:

tooke hold of the cord about Churiacyes necke, and so went along

dragging it after him. The dead body being knowne to many, with no

meane mervaile how he should bee murthered in so vile manner: by gifts

and faire perswasions they wonne him to bring them to the place

where he found it. And there (to the no little greefe of the whole

Cittie) they found the Princes body also, which they caused to bee

intered with all the most Majesticke pompe that might be.

  Upon further inquisition, who should commit horrid a deede,

perceyving likewise that the Duke of Athens was not to be found, but

was closely gone: they judged (according to the truth) that he had his

hand in this bloody businesse, and had carried away the Lady with him.

Immediately, they elected the Princes brother to be their Lord and

Soveraigne, inciting him to revenge so horrid a wrong, and promising

to assist him with their utmost power. The new chosen Prince being

assured afterward, by other more apparant and remarkeable proofes,

that his people informed him With nothing but truth: sodainly, and

according as they had concluded, with the help of neighbors, kindred

and frends, collected from divers places; he mustred a good and

powerfull army, marching on towards Athens, to make war against the

Duke.

  No sooner heard he of this warlike preparation made against him, but

he likewise levied forces for his owne defence, and to his succour

came many great States: among whom, the Emperor of Constantinople sent

his sonne Constantine, attended on by his Nephew Emanuell, with

Troopes of faire and towardly force, who were honoutably welcommed and

entertained by the Duke, but much more by the Dutchesse, because

shee was their sister in Law.

  Military provision thus proceeding on daily more and more, the

Dutches making choise of a fit and convenient houre, took these two

Princes with her to a with-drawing Chamber; and there in flouds of

teares flowing from her eyes, wringing her hands, and sighing

incessantly, she recounted the whole History, occasion of the warre,

and how dishonourably the Duke dealt with her about this strange

woman, whom hee purposed to keepe in despight of her, as thinking that

she knew nothing therof, and complaining very earnestly unto them,

entreated that for the Dukes honour, and her comfort, they would

give their best assistance in this case.

  The two young Lords knew all this matter, before shee thus

reported it to them; and therefore, without staying to listen [to] her

any longer, but comforting her so wel as they could, with promise of

their best emploied paines: being informd by her, in what place the

Lady was so closely kept they took their leave, and parted from her.

Often they had heard the Lady much commended, and her incomparable

beauty highly extolled, yea even by the Duke himselfe; which made them

the more desirous to see her: wherfore earnestly they solicited him to

let them have a sight of her, and he (forgetting what happened to

the Prince, by shewing her so unadvisedly to him) made them promise to

grant their request. Causing a very magnificent dinner to be prepared,

and in a goodly garden, at the Castle where the Lady was kept: on

the morrow, attended on by a smal traine, away they rode to dine

with her.

  Constantine being seated at the Table, hee began (as one

confounded with admiration) to observe her judiciously, affirming

secretly to his soule that he had never seene so compleat a woman

before; and allowing it for justice, that the Duke or any other

whosoever, if (to enjoy so rare a beauty) they had committed

treason, or any mischeefe els beside, yet in reason they ought to be

held excused. Nor did he bestow so many lookes upon her, but his

praises infinitely surpassed them, as thinking that he could not

sufficiently commend her, following the Duke step by step in

affection; for being now growne amorous of her, and remembrance of the

intended warre utterly abandoned; no other thoughts could come

neerer him but how to bereave the Duke of her, yet concealing his

love, and not imparting it to any one.

  While his fancies were thus amorously set on fire, the time came,

that they must make head against the Prince, who already was

marching with in the Dukes dominions: wherfore the Duke,

Constantine, and all the rest, according to a counsel held among them,

went to defend certaine of the Frontiers, to the end that the Prince

might passe no further. Remaining there divers dayes together,

Constantine (who could thinke on nothing else but the beautiful

Lady) considered with himself, that while the Duke was now so farre

from her, it was an easie matter to compasse his intent: Hereupon, the

better to colour his present returne to Athens, he seemed to be

surprized with a sudden extreame sicknesse, in regard whereof (by

the Dukes free license, and leaving all his power to his Cosen

Emanuel) forthwith he journyed backe to Athens. After some

conference had with his sister, about her dishonourable wrongs endured

at his hands onely, by the Lady, he solemnly protested, that if she

were so pleased, hee would aide her powerfully in the matter, by

taking her from the place where shee was, and never more afterward, to

be seene in that Country any more.

  The Dutchesse being faithfully perswaded, that he would do this

onely for her sake, and not in any affection he bare to the Lady,

answered, that it highly pleased her; alwayes provided, that it

might be performed in such sort, as the Duke her husband should

never understand, that ever she gave any consent thereto; which

Constantine sware unto her by many deepe oaths, whereby she referred

all to his owne disposition. Constantine heereupon secretly prepared

in a readinesse a subtile Barke, sending it in an evening, neere to

the Garden where the Lady resorted; having first informed the people

which were in it, fully what was to be done. Afterwards, accompanied

with some other of his attendants, he went to the Palace to the

Lady, where he was gladly entertained, not onely by such as wayted

on her, but also by the Lady her selfe.

  Leading her along by the arme towards the Garden, attended on by two

of her servants, and two of his owne; seeming as if he was sent from

the Duke, to conferre with her: they walked alone to a Port opening on

the Sea, which standing ready open, upon a signe given by him to one

of his complices, the Barke was brought close to the shore; and the

Ladie being sodainly seized on, was immediately conveyed into it;

and he returning backe to her people, with his sword drawne, said: Let

no man stirre, or speake a word, except he be willing to loose his

life: for I intend not to rob the Duke of his faire friend, but to

expell the shame and dishonor that he hath offered to my Sister: no

one being so hardy as to returne him any answer. Aboord went

Constantine with his consorts, and sitting neere to the Lady, who

wrung her hands, and wept bitterly; he commaunded the Mariners to

launch forth, flying away on the wings of the winde, till about the

breake of day following, they arrived at Melasso. There they tooke

landing, and reposed on shore for some few dayes, Constantine

labouring to comfort the Lady, even as if she had bene his owne

Sister, shee having good cause to curse her infortunate beauty.

  Going aboord the Barke againe, within few dayes they came to

Setalia, and there fearing the reprehension of his father, and least

the Lady should be taken from him; it pleased Constantine to make

his stay, as in a place of no meane security. And (as before) after

much kinde behaviour used towards the Lady, without any meanes in

her selfe to redresse the least of all these great extremities, she

became more milde and affable, for discontentment did not a jot quaile

her.

  While occurrences passed on in this manner, it fortuned, that Osbech

the King of Turky (who was in continuall war with the Emperour) came

by accident to Lajazzo: and hearing there how lasciviously Constantine

spent his time in Setalia, with a Lady which he had stolne, being

but weake and slenderly guarded; in the night with certaine well

provided ships, his men and he entred the town, and surprized many

people in their beds, before they knew of their enimies comming,

killing such as stood upon their defence against them, (among whom was

Constantine) and burning the whole Towne, brought their booty and

prisoners aboord their Shippes, wherewith they returned backe to

Lajazzo. Being thus come to Lajazzo, Osbech who was a brave and

gallant young man, upon a review of the pillage, found the faire Lady,

whom he knew to be the beloved of Constantine, because shee was

found lying on his bed. Without any further delay, he made choice of

her to be his wife; causing his nuptials to be honourably

solemnized, and many moneths he lived there in great joy with her.

  But before occasions grew to this effect, the Emperour made a

confederacie with Bassano, King of Cappadocia, that hee should descend

with his forces, one way upon Osbech, and he would assault him with

his power on the other. But he could not so conveniently bring this to

passe, because the Emperour would not yeeld to Bassano, in any

unreasonable matter he demanded. Neverthelesse, when hee understoode

what had happened to his Sonne (for whom his greefe was beyond all

measure) hee graunted the King of Cappadociaes request; soliciting him

with all instancy, to be the more speedy in assayling Osbech. It was

not long, before hee heard of this conjuration made against him; and

therefore hee speedily mustered up all his forces, ere he would be

encompassed by two such potent kings, and marched on to meete the King

of Cappadocia, leaving his Ladie and Wife (for her safety) at Lajazzo,

in the custodie of a true and loyall Servant of his.

  Within a short while after, he drew neere the Campe belonging to the

King of Cappadocia, where boldly he gave him battell; chancing therein

to be slaine, his Army broken and discomfited, by meanes whereof,

the King of Cappadocia remaining Conquerour, marched on towardes

Lajazzo, every one yeelding him obeysance all the way as he went. In

the meane space, the servant to Osbech, who was named Antiochus, and

with whom the faire Ladie was left in guard; although hee was aged,

yet seeing shee was so extraordinarily beautifull, he fell in love

with her, forgetting the solemne vowes he had made to his master.

One happinesse he had in this case to helpe him, namely, that he

understood and could speake her Language: a matter of no meane comfort

to her, who constrainedly had lived divers yeeres together, in the

state of a deafe or dumbe Woman, because every where else they

understoode her not, nor shee them, but by shewes and signes.

  This benefite of familiar conference, beganne to embolden his hopes,

elevate his courage, and make him seeme more youthfull in his owne

opinion, then any ability of body could speake unto him, or promise

him in the possession of her, who was so farre beyond him, and so

unequall to be enjoyed by him; yet to advance his hopes a great

deale higher, Newes came, that Osbech was vanquished and slaine, and

that Bassano made every where havocke of all: whereon they concluded

together, not to tarrie there any longer, but storing themselves

with the goods of Osbech, secretly they departed thence to Rhodes.

Being : g seated there in some indifferent abiding, it came to

passe, that Antiochus fell into a deadly sickenesse, to whom came a

Cyprian Merchant, one much esteemed by him, as beeing an intimate

friend and kinde acquaintance, and in whom hee reposed no small

confidence. Feeling his sickenesse to encrease more and more upon

him dayly, hee determined, not onely to leave such wealth as hee had

to this Merchant, but the faire Lady likewise. And calling them both

to his beds side, he spake in this manner.

  Deere Love, and my most worthily respected friend, I perceive

plainly and infallibly, that I am drawing neere unto my end, which

much discontenteth me; because my hope was to have lived longer in

this world, for the enjoying of your kinde and most esteemed

company. Yet one thing maketh my death very pleasing and welcome to

me; namely, that lying thus in my bed of latest comfort in this

life, I shall expire and finish my course, in the armes of those two

persons, whome I most affected in all this world, as you my

ever-deerest friend, and you faire Lady, whom (since the very first

sight of you) I loved and honoured in my soule. Irkesome and verie

greevous it is to me, that (if I dye) I shall leave you here a

stranger, without the counsaile and helpe of any bodie: and yet much

more offensive would it become, if I had not such a friend as you

heere present, who (I am faithfully perswaded) will have the like care

and respect of her (even for my sake) as of my selfe, if time had

allotted my longer tarrying here. And therefore (worthy friend) most

earnestly I desire you, that if I dye, all mine affaires and she may

remaine to your trustie care, as being (by my selfe) absolutely

commended to your providence, and so to dispose both of the one and

other, as may best agree with the comfort of my soule. As for you

(choice beauty) I humbly entreate, that after my death you would not

forget me, to the end, I may make my vaunt in another world, that I

was affected here by the fairest Lady that ever Nature framed. If of

these two things you will give mee assurance, I shall depart from

you with no meane comfort.

  The friendly Merchant, and likewise the Ladie, hearing these

words, wept both bitterly: and after hee had given over speaking,

kindely they comforted him, with promises and solemne Vowes, that if

hee dyed, all should be performed which hee had requested. Within a

short while after, he departed out of this life, and they gave him

verie honourable buriall, according to that Country custome. Which

being done, the Merchant dispatching all his affaires at Rhodes, was

desirous to returne home to Cyprus, in a Carracke of the Catelans then

there being: mooving the Ladie in the matter, to understand how shee

stoode enclined, because urgent occasions called him thence to Cyprus.

The Lady made answere, that shee was willing to passe thither with

him, hoping for the love hee bare to deceased Antiochus, that hee

would respect her as his Sister. The Merchant was willing to give

her any contentment, but yet resolved her, that under the title of

being his Sister, it would be no warrant of securitie to them both.

Wherefore, hee rather advised her, to stile him as her husband, and he

would terme her his Wife, and so hee should be sure to defend her from

all injuries whatsoever.

  Being aboord the Carrack, they had a Cabine and small bed

conveniently allowed them, where they slept together, that they

might the better be reputed as man and wife; for, to passe

otherwise, would have beene very dangerous to them both. And

questionlesse, their faithfull promise made at Rhodes to Antiochus,

sickenesse on the Sea, and mutuall respect they had of each others

credit, was a constant restraint to all wanton desires, and a motive

rather to incite Chastitie, then otherwise, and so (I hope) you are

perswaded of them. But howsoever, the windes blewe merrily, the

Carracke sayled lustily, and (by this time) they are arrived at Baffa,

where the Cyprian Merchant dwelt, and where shee continued a long

while with him, no one knowing otherwise, but that shee was his wife

indeede.

 Now it fortuned, that there arrived also at the same Baffa (about

some especiall occasions of his) a Gentleman whose name was Antigonus,

well stept into yeeres, and better stored with wisedome then wealth:

because by medling in many matters, while hee followed the service

of the King of Cyprus, Fortune had beene very adverse to him. This

ancient Gentleman, passing (on a day) by the house where the Lady lay,

and the Merchant being gone about his bussinesse into Armenia: hee

chanced to see the Lady at a window of the house, and because shee was

very beautifull, he observed her the more advisedly, recollecting

his sences together, that (doubtlesse) he had seene her before, but in

what place hee could not remember. The Lady her selfe likewise, who

had so long time beene Fortunes tennis ball, and the terme of her many

miseries drawing now neere an ending: began to conceive (upon the very

first sight of Antigonus) that she had formerly seene him in

Alexandria, serving her Father in place of great degree. Heereupon,

a sodaine hope perswaded her, that by the advice and furtherance of

this Gentleman, shee should recover her wonted Royall condition: and

opportunity now aptly fitting her, by the absence of her pretended

Merchant-husband, shee sent for him, requesting to have a few words

with him.

  When he was come into the house, she bashfully demanded of him, if

he was not named Antigonus of Famagosta, because she knew one like him

so called? He answered that he was so named: saying moreover, Madam me

thinkes I should know you, but I cannot remember where I have seene

you, wherefore I would entreat (if it might stand with your good

liking) that my memory might be quickned with better knowledge of you.

The Lady perceiving him to be the man indeed, weeping incessantly, she

threw her armes about his necke, and soone after asked Antigonus

(who stood as one confounded with mervaile) if he had never seene

her in Alexandria? Upon these words, Antigonus knew her immediately to

be Alathiella, daughter to the great Soldane, who was supposed (long

since) to be drowned in the Sea: and offering to do her such reverence

as became him, she would not permit him, but desired that he would bee

assistant to her, and willed him also to sit downe awhile by her.

  A goodly chaire being brought him, in very humble maner he

demanded of her, what had become of her in so long a time, because

it was verily beleeved throughout all Egypt, that she was drowned in

the Sea. I would it had bin so, answered the Lady, rather then to

leade such a life as I have done; and I thinke my Father himselfe

would wish it so, if ever he should come to the knowledge thereof.

With these words the teares rained downe her faire cheekes:

wherefore Antigonus thus spake unto hir. Madam, discomfort not your

selfe before you have occasion; but (if you be so pleased) relate your

passed accidents to me, and what the course of your life hath bene:

perhaps, I shall give you such friendly advice as may stand you

insted, and no way be injurious to you.

  Fetching a sighe, even as if her heart would have split in sunder,

thus she replyed.

  Ah Antigonus, me thinkes when I looke on thee, I seeme to behold

my royall Father, and therefore mooved with the like religious zeale

and charitable love, as in duty I owe unto him: I wil make known to

thee, what I rather ought to conceale and hide from any person living.

I know thee to be honourable, discreete, and truely wise, though I

am a fraile, simple, and weake woman, therefore I dare discover to

thee, rather then any other that I know, by what strange and

unexpected misfortunes I have lived so long obscurely in the world.

And if in thy great and grave judgement (after the hearing of my

many miseries) thou canst any way restore me to my former estate, I

pray thee do it: but if thou perceive it impossible to be done, as

earnestly likewise I entreate thee, never to reveale to any living

person, that either thou hast seene mee, or heard any speech of me.

After these words, the teares still streaming from her faire eyes, she

recounted the whole passage of her rare mishappes, even from her

shipwracke in the sea of Majorica, untill that very instant houre;

speaking them in such harsh manner as they hapned, and not sparing any

jot of them.

  Antigonus being mooved to much compassion, declared how hee pitied

her by his teares; and having bene silent an indifferent while, as

considering in this case what was best to be done, thus he began.

Madam, seeing you have past through such a multitude of misfortunes,

yet undiscovered, what and who you are: I will render you as

blamelesse to your Father, and estate you as fairely in his love, as

at the houre when you parted from him, and afterward make you wife

to the King of Colchos. Shee demanding of him, by what meanes possibly

this could be accomplished, breefely he made it knowne to her, how,

and in what manner he would performe it.

  To cut off further tedious circumstances, forthwith he returned to

Famagosta, and going before the King of the country, thus he spake

to him. Sir, you may (if so you will be pleased) in an instant, do

me an exceeding honor, who have bene impoverished by your service, and

also a deed of great renowne to your selfe, without any much matter of

expence and cost. The King demanding how? Antigonus thus answered. The

faire daughter of the Soldane, so generally reported to be drowned, is

arrived at Baffa, and to preserve her honor from blemishing, hath

suffered many crosses and calamities: being at this instant in very

poore estate, yet desirous to revisite her father. If you please to

send her home under my conduct, it will be great honour to you, and no

meane benefite to me: which kindnesse will for ever be thankfully

remembred by the Soldan.

  The King in royall magnificence, replied sodainly, that he was

highly pleased with these good tydings; and having sent honorably

for hir from Baffa, with great pompe she was conducted to Famagosta,

and there most graciously welcommed both by the King and Queene,

with solemne triumphes, bankets, and revelling, performed in most

Majesticke manner. Being questioned by the King and Queene, concerning

so large a time of strange misfortunes: according as Antigonus had

formerly enstructed her, so did she shape the forme of her answers,

and satisfied (with honor) all their demands. So, within few daies

after, upon her earnest and instant request, with an honourable traine

of Lords and Ladies, shee was sent thence, and conducted all the way

by Antigonus, untill she came unto the Soldans Court.

  After some few dayes of her reposing there, the Soldan was

desirous to understand, how she could possibly live so long in any

Kingdome or Province whatsoever, and yet no knowledge to be taken of

her? The Lady, who perfectly retained by heart, and had all her

lessons at her fingers ends, by the warie instruction which

Antigonus had given her, answered her father in this manner. Sir,

about the twentieth day after my departure from you, a very terrible

and dreadfull tempest overtooke us, so that in dead time of the night,

our ship being split in sunder upon the sands, neere to a place called

Varna, what became of all the men that were aboord, I neither know,

nor ever heard of. Onely I remember, then when death appeared, and I

being recovered from death to life, certaine Pezants of the

Countrey, comming to get what they could finde in the ship so

wrackt, I was first (with two of my women) brought and set safely on

the shore.

  No sooner were we there, but certaine rude shagge-haird villaines

set upon us, carrying away from me both my women, then haling me along

by the haire of my head: neither teares or intercessions could draw

any pitty from them. As thus they dragd me into a spacious Wood, foure

horsemen on a sodaine came riding by, who seeing how dishonourably the

villaines used me, rescued me from them, and forced them to flight.

But the foure horsemen, seeming (in my judgement) to bee persons of

power and authority, letting them go, came to me; urging sundry

questions to me, which neither I understood, or they mine answeres.

After many deliberations held among themselves, setting me upon one of

their horses, they brought me to a Monasterie of religious women,

according to the custome of their Law: and there, whatsoever they

did or sayde, I know not, but I was most benignely welcommed

thither, and honoured of them extraordinarily; where (with them in

Devotion) I dedicated my selfe to the Goddesse of chastity, who is

highly reverenced and regarded among the women of that Countrey, and

to her religious service they are wholly addicted.

  After I had continued some time among them, and learned a little

of their language; they asked me, of whence, and what I was. Reason

gave me so much understanding, to be fearefull of telling them the

trueth, for feare of expulsion from among them, as an enemy to their

Law and Religion: wherefore I answered (according as necessitie urged)

that I was daughter to a Gentleman of Cyprus who sent me to bee

married in Candie; but our fortunes (meaning such as had the charge of

me) fell out quite contrary to our expectation, by losses, shipwracke,

and other mischances; adding many matters more beside, onely in regard

of feare, and yeelding obediently to observe their customes.

  At length, she that was in cheefest preheminence among these Women

(whom they termed by the name of their Ladie Abbesse) demaunded of

mee, whether I was willing to abide in that condition of life, or to

returne home againe into, Cyprus. I answerd, that I desired nothing

more. But shee, being very carefull of mine honour, would never repose

confidence in any that came for Cyprus, till two honest Gentlemen of

France who hapned thither about two moneths since, accompanied with

their wives, one of them being a neere kinswoman to the Lady

Abbesse. And she well knowing, that they travelled in pilgrimage to

Jerusalem, to visite the holy Sepulcher, where (as they beleeve)

that he whom they held for their God was buried, after the jewes had

put him to death; recommended me to their loving trust, with especiall

charge, for delivering mee to my Father in Cyprus. What honourable

love and respect I found in the company of those Gentlemen and their

Wives, during our voyage backe to Cyprus, the historie would be

overtedious in reporting, neither is it much materiall to our purpose,

because your demaund is to another end.

  Sayling on prosperously in our Ship, it was not long before we

arrived at Baga, where being landed, and not knowing any person,

neither what I should say to the Gentlemen, who onely were carefull

for delivering me to my Father, according as they were charged by

the reverend Abbesse: it was the will of heaven doubtlesse (in pitty

and compassion of my passed disasters) that I was no sooner come on

shore at Baffa, but I should there haply meet with Antigonus, whom I

called unto in our Country language because I would not be

understood by the Gentlemen nor their wives, requesting him to

acknowledge me as his daughter. Quickly he apprehended mine intention,

accomplishing what requested, and (according to his poore power)

most bounteously feasted the Gentlemen and their wives, conducting

me to the King of Cyprus, who received me royally, and sent me home to

you with so much honour, as I am no way able to relate. What else

retnaineth to be said, Antigonus who hath oft heard the whole story of

my misfortunes, at better leysure will report.

  Antigonus then turning to the Soldan, saide: My Lord, as shee hath

often told me, and by relation both of the Gentlemen and their

wives, she hath delivered nothing but truth. Onely shee hath forgotten

somewhat worth the speaking, as thinking it not fit for her to

utter, because indeed it is not so convenient for her. Namely, how

much the Gentlemen and their wives (with whom she came) commended

the rare honesty and integrity of life, as also the unspotted vertue

wherein shee lived among those chaste religious women, as they

constantly (both with teares and solemne protestations) avouched to

me, when kindly they resigned their charge to me. Of all which

matters, and many more beside, if I should make discourse to your

Excellencie; this whole day, the night ensuing, and the next daies

full extendure, are not sufficient to acquaint you withall. Let it

suffice then that I have said so much, as (both by the reports, and

mine owne understanding) may give you faithfull assurance, to make

your Royall vaunt, of having the fairest, most vertuous, and honest

Lady to your daughter, of any King or Prince whatsoever.

  The Soldane was joyfull beyond all measure, welcomming both him

and the rest in most stately manner, oftentimes entreating the Gods

very heartily, that he might live to requite them with equall

recompence, who had so graciously honored his daughter: but above

all the rest, the King of Cyprus, who sent her home so Majestically.

And having bestowne great gifts on Antigonus, within a few dayes

after, hee gave him leave to returne to Cyprus: with thankfull favours

to the King as well by Letters, as also by Ambassadours expressely

sent, both from himselfe and his Daughter.

  When as this businesse was fully finished, the Soldane, desiring

to accomplish what formerly was intended and begun, namely, that she

might be wife to the King of Colchos; hee gave him intelligence of all

that had happened; writing moreover to him, that (if he were so

pleased) he wold yet send her in Royall manner to him. The King of

Colchos was exceeding joyfull of these glad tydings, and dispatching a

worthy traine to fetch her, she was conveyed thither very pompously,

and she who had bene imbraced by so many, was received by him as an

honest Virgin, living long time after with him in much joy and

felicity. And therefore it hath bene saide as a common Proverbe: The

mouth well kist comes not short of good Fortune, but is still

renewed like the Moone.