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 be 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 subtill 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 sudden departure. The night following, he 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 Lady 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, verie softly they stept to the Prince, and running their weapons quite thorow his body, immediately they threw him forth of the window.
Here you are to observe, that the Pallace was seated on the Sea shore, and very 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 sildome 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 vaste a place, could neither be heard, or descried 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 coard about the necke of Churiacy, seeming as if they hugged and embraced him: but drew it with so maine strength, that he never spake one 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 Majesty? Being no way daunted by his so late committed sinne, but swimming rather in surfet of joy, his hands all bloody, and his soule much more uglie; 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, nor opening her eyes to be otherwise resolved. But this was not the delight he aimed at, neither did he thinke it safe for him, to delay time with any longer tarying there: wherefore having his agents at hand fit and convenient for the purpose, they surprized her in such sort, that she could not make any noise or outcry, and carrying her thorough 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 hee would not bring her, because himselfe was a married man, but rather to a goodly Castle of his owne, not distant farre off from the City; where he caused her to be 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, & finding no body there, they presently imagined, that he was privately gone to some other place, where (with the Lady, whom he so deerely affected) hee might remaine some few dayes for his more contentment, and so they relied verily perswaded. Within some fewe 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 corde about Churiacyes necke, and so went along dragging it after him. The bodye being knowne to many, with no meane mervaile, how hee should bee murthered in so vile manner: by giftes and faire perswasions they wonne him, to bring them to the place where hee found it. And there (to the no little greefe of all the Cittie) they found the Princes body also, which they caused to bee interred with all the most majesticke pomp that might bee.
Upon further inquisition, who should commit so horrid a deed, 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 bee 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 helpe of neighbours, kindred, and friends, collected from divers places; he mustred a goodly and powerful 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 most honourably welcommed and entertained by the Duke, but much more by the Dutchesse, because she 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, shee recounted the whole History, occasion of the warre, and how dishonourably the Duke had dealt with her about this strange woman, whom he purposed to keepe in despight of her, as thinking that she knew nothing thereof, 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 her any longer, but comforting her so wel as they could, with promise of their best employed paines: being informed by her, in what place the Lady was so closely kept, they tooke 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: wherefore 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 magnificent dinner to be prepared, & in a goodly garden, at the Castle where the Lady was kept: on the morrow morning, attended on by a small train, away they rode to dine with her.
Constantine being seated at the Table, he 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 mischiefe else beside, yet in reason they ought to be held excused. Nor did he bestow so many lookes upon her, but his prayses 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 within the Dukes Dominions: wherefore the Duke Constantine and all the rest, according to a counsell 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 beautifull Lady, considered with himselfe, that while the Duke was now so far off 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 lisence, and leaving all his power to his Cousen Emanuel) forthwith he journeyed backe to Athens. After some conference had with his sister, concerning her dishonourable wrongs endured at his hands only by the Lady: he solemnly protested, that if shee were so pleased, he would aide her powerfully in the matter, by taking her from the place where she was, and never more afterward, to be seene in that Countrey any more.