Reading this History, I consider two straung and rare chaunces: the one a lyberall and courteous act of an earnest louer towards his beloued and hir husband, in leauinge hir vntouched, and not dishonored, although in full puissance to doe his pleasure: the other a lyke liberall offre by presentinge whom he dearly loued, and a newe borne Chylde: both supposed to be dead by hir freendes, and therefore Intoumbed in Graue. Wherewithall is to bee noted the rare and singuler desire of a gentlewoman, by humble sute for conseruation of her honour, although longe time pursued by a Gentleman that reuiued hir almost from death, and thought her vtterly to be void of life. To praise the one, and to leaue the other not magnified, it were a part of discurtesy: but to extol both with shoutes, and acclamations of infinite praise no dout but very commendable. If comparisons may be made with Prynces of elder yeares, and not to note those of later, truely Mayster Gentil by that hys fact, seemeth not mutch inferior to Scipio Africanus for sparing the wyfe of Indibilis, ne yet to king Cyrus for Panthea the wyfe of Abradatus: although both of them not in equall state of loue, (as wholly estraunged from that passion) like to maister Gentil, who in deed for subduing that griefe and motion, deserueth greater prayse. For sooner is that torment auoyded at the first assault and pinch, than when it is suffred long to flame and raigne in that yelding portion of man, the heart, which once fed with the bayt of loue, is seldome or neuer loosed. To do at large to vnderstand the proofe of those most vertuous persons, thus beginneth the history. At Bologna a very notable Citty of Lombardy, there was a Knyght of very great respect for his vertue, named maister Gentil Carissendi, who in his youth fell in loue with a Gentlewoman called maistresse Katherine, the wyfe of one mayster Nicholas Chassennemie. And bicause during that loue he receiued a very ill counterchange for his affection that he bare vnto hir, he went away (like one desperate) to be the iudge and potestate of Modena, whereunto he was called. About the time that hir husband being out of Bologna, and the gentlewoman at hir Manour in the countrey, not past a mile and a halfe from the Citty, (whither she went to remayne, bicause she was with childe) it chaunced that she was sodenly surprised with a sicknesse, which was of so great force, as there was no token of lyfe in her, but rather iudged by all Phisitians to be a dead Woman. And because that hir neerest Kinne reported that they hearde hir saye, that shee could not bee longe time with Childe, but that the infante must be perfect in her wombe and ready to be deliuered, and therefore affected wyth some other disease and griefe that would bring hir to hir ende, as a Timpany or other swelling, rising of grosse humors, they thought hir a dead Woman, and past recouery: wherefore vpon a time she falling into a traunce, was verily supposed to be dead. Who after they had mourned hir death, and bewayled the sodayn expiration of hir soule, caused hir to be buried without hope of recouery (euen as she was in that extasie) in a graue of a church adioyning harde by the house wher she dwelt. Which thing incontinently was aduertised master Gentil by one of his frends, who although he was not likely, as he thought, to attayne hir fauor and in vtter dispayre therof, yet it gryeued him very mutch that no better heede was taken vnto hir, thynking by diligence and time shee woulde haue reuyued agayn, sayinge thus in the end vnto him selfe: “How now madam Katherin, that Death hath wrought his wyll wyth you, and I could neuer obteyne durynge your life one simple looke from those youre glistering eies, which lately I beheld to my great ouerthrow and decay, wherfore now when you cannot defend your self, I may bee bold (you being dead) to steale from you some desired kisse.” When hee had sayd so, beyng already Nyght, and hauynge taken order that none should know of his departure, he gat vpon his Horse, accompanied with one only seruaunt, and wythout taryinge anye where, arriued at the place where his Lady was buryed, and opening the Graue, forthwith he entred in, and laying himself downe besides hir, he approched neare hir face, and many times kissed hir, pouryng forthe great abundance of teares. But as we see the appetyte of Man not to be content excepte it proceede further (specially of sutch as bee in loue) beyng determined to tarrye no longer there, and to departe, he sayd: “Ah God, why should I goe no further, why should I not touche hir, why should I not proue whyther she be alyue or dead?” Vanquished then wyth that motyon, hee felt hir brests, and holding his hand there for a certayne tyme, perceyued hir Heart as it were to pant, and thereby some lyfe remayning in hir: wherefore so softly as he could, wyth the helpe of his man, he raised hir out of the graue: and settynge hir vppon his Horse before him, secretly caried hir home to his house at Bologna. The mother of maister Gentil dwelled there, which was a graue and vertuous Matrone, who vnderstandyng by her sonne the whole effect of that chaunce, moued wyth compassion, vnknowne to anye man, placing hir before a great fire, and comfortyng hir wyth a bathe prepared for the purpose, she recouered lyfe in the Gentlewoman that was supposed to bee deade, who so soone as she was com to hir self, threw forth a great sigh and sayd: “Alas, wher am I now?” To whom the good old woman sayd: “Be of good cheere swete hart, yee bee in a good place.” The Gentlewoman hauing wholly recouered hir senses, and looking round about hir, not yet well knowing where she was, and seing maister Gentill before hir, prayed his mother to tell hir how she came thither. To whome maister Gentil declared in order what he had done for hir, and what meanes he vsed to bryng hir thyther: wherof makyng hir complaynt, and lamentyng the lyttle regard and neglygence of hir frends, she rendred vnto hym inumerable thankes. Then she prayed him for the Loue which at other times he bare hir and for his courtesie, that she might not receyue in hys house any thing that should be dishonorable to hir person, ne yet to hir husband, but so soone as it was Daye to suffer hir to goe home to hir owne House: whereunto maister Gentil answered: “Madam, what soeuer I haue desired in time past, now am I fully purposed neuer to demaund any thyng specially in this place or in any other but the safety of your honour, and that I would doe to myne owne sister, sith it hath pleased God to showe me that pleasure, as by my meanes you are reuiued from death to life, and to delyuer you to mee in consideration of the loue that I haue born you heretofore: but this good worke, which this Nyghte I haue done for you, well deserueth some recompence. Wherefore my desire is, that you deny me not the pleasure which I shall demaund:” whome the gentlewoman curteously answered, that shee was very ready, so the same were honest and in hir power to doe. Then sayd mayster Gentil: “Mystresse, all your kin and al they of Bologna, doe beleue for a trouth that you bee deade, wherefore there is none that loketh for your recouery agayne: and the pleasure then whych I demaund, is that you wyll vouchsafe secretlye to tarry here wyth my mother, vntill I retourne from Modena, which shal be with so great expedition as I can: and the cause why I desire the same, is, for that I intend to make a fayre and acceptable present of you vnto your husband in the presence of the principal of this City.” The gentlewoman knowing hir self to be greatly bound to the knight, and that hys request was honest, was content to doe what hee demaunded. Albeit shee desired earnestly to reioyce hir frendes for hir recouered life, and so promised vppon hir faith. And vnnethes had she ended hir talke, but she felt the pain of chyldbirth: wherfore wyth the ayde of the mother of maister Gentil, she tarried not long before she was deliuered of a fayre Sonne, which greatly augmented the ioy of maister Gentil and hir. Mayster Gentil commaunded that she should haue al thyngs that were necessary to be ministred vnto hir, and that she should be vsed as his owne Wyfe. Then he pryuily returned to Modena, where when he had a while supplied his office, he returned to Bologna, and prepared a great feast at his house, the same morning that he arriued, for diuers gentlemen of the city, amongs whom Nicholas Chasennemie was one. When the company of the bidden guests wer com, (the gentlewoman in so good health and lykyng as euer she was, and hir Child wel and lusty), he sate down amongs them doing vnto them incomparable myrth and pastime, and serued them bountifully wyth dyuers sortes of meates. When dinner was almost done, hauing before told the Gentlewoman what he ment to doe, and in what manner she should behaue hir selfe, he began thus to say: “My Maysters, I do remember that whilom I haue hearde tell that in the Country of Persia, there was a goodly custom (as me seemeth) that when som one was disposed to do great honour vnto his friend, he bad hym home to his house, and there shewed him the thing whych he loued best, were it wyfe, woman, or daughter, or what so euer it were, affirming that like as he disdayned not to shew the same, which outwardly he loued best, euen so he would if it were possible, willingly discouer his owne heart: whych custome I purpose to obserue in this City. Ye of your curtesie haue vouchsafed to do me so great honour, as to repayre vnto this my simple feast, which benefite I wyl recompence after the Persian manner, by shewing vnto you the thinge which I loue moste deerely aboue any in this worlde, or hereafter shal be able to loue so long as my life endureth: but before I doe the same, I pray you to tell mee your opynyon in a doubte whych I shall propose. There was a certayne person whych in hys house had a good and Faythfull Seruaunte who became extremely sick: that Person without attendyng the end of his diseased seruaunt, caused him to be caried into the midst of the streate wythout any further care for him. In the meane tyme there came a straunger by, who moued by compassion of the sicke seruaunt, bare him home to his owne house, where wyth great care and diligence, sparing no cost or charge, made him to recouer his former healthe: I would now fayne know of you, whither for retaining and vsing the seruice of that seruaunt, his first maister by good right myghte complayne vpon the seconde, if he should demaund hym agayne, or by demaunding of him agayne, the second not disposed to restore him, might susteyne any damage.” The gentlemen after many opinions and arguments debated too and fro amonges them, and at length all concluding in one mind, gaue charge to Nicholas Chasennemie, (bicause he was an eloquent talker) to make the answer: who first praising the Persians custome, said that he was, (with the rest) of this opinion, that the first maister had no further title in his seruaunt, hauing in sutch necessity not onely forsaken him, but throwen him into the streate, and that for the good turnes whych the second maister had don him, he ought by good right to be hys: wherefore by kepyng him, he did no wrong, force, or iniury to the first. Al the rest at the Table (which were very discret and honest persons) sayd altogyther that they were of hys opinion. The knight content with that answer, and specially bycause Nicholas Chasennemie had pronounced it, affyrmed that hee was likewyse of that minde, and afterwards he sayd: “Time it is then that I render vnto you the honor which you haue done me, in manner accordyngly as I haue promysed.” Then he called vnto him two of hys Seruaunts, and sent them to the Gentlewoman, whom hee had caused to be apparelled and decked very gorgeously, praying hir by hir presence to content and satisfie al the company. And she taking in hir armes hir little faire sonne, came into the hall, accompanied with the two Seruauntes, and was placed (as it pleased the kynght) besides a very honest gentleman, and then he sayde: “Syrs, behold the thing which I loue best, and purpose to loue aboue all worldly things, and whither I haue occasion so to doe, your eyes may bee Iudges.” The gentlemen doing their reuerence unto hir, greatly praised hir, and said to the Knight that ther was good reason why she oughte to be beloued: Vpon which commendations they began more attentyuely to behold hir, and many of them would haue sayd and sworne that it had bin shee in deede if it had not bin thought that she had bin dead. But Nicholas beheld hir more than the rest, who very desirous to know what she was, could not forbeare (when he saw that the Knight was a little departed from the place) to aske hir whyther shee was of Bologna, or a straunger. When the Gentlewoman saw hir husband to ask hir that question, she could scarce forbeare from making aunswere, notwithstanding to atchieue that whych was purposed, she helde hir peace. Another asked her yf that little Boye was hers: And another if shee were the Wyfe of mayster Gentil, or any kin vnto hym: vnto whom shee gaue no answere at all. But when maister Gentil came in, one of the straungers sayd vnto him: “Syr, thys gentlewoman is a very good creature, but she seemeth to be dumbe. Is it true or not?” “Syrs,” sayde maister Gentil, “that is but a little argument of hir vertue for this time to hold hir peace.” “Tell vs then (sayde he) what is she?” “That wil I do very gladly,” sayd the knight, “vnder condition that none of you shall remoue out of his place for any thing I speake, vntill I haue ended my tale:” which request being graunted, and the table taken vp, maister Gentil which was set downe by the Gentlewoman, sayd: “My maysters, this gentlewoman is the loyall and faithful seruant, of whom earst I propounded the question, whom I haue releeued from amids the streate, whither hir kin, little caring for hir, threw hir as a vile and vnprofitable thing: and haue by my great care brought to passe, that I haue discharged hir from death, vpon an affection which God knoweth to be so pure and perfect, as of a lumpe of dead lothsome flesh hee hath reuiued so fayre and freshe as you see: but to the intent you may more playnly vnderstand how it is come to passe, I will open the same in few words.” And beginning at the day when he fell in loue with hir, he particularly told them, what had chaunced till that time, to the great maruell and admiration of them that heard him, and then added these woordes: “By meanes whereof, if your minde be not chaunged within this litle time, and specially master Nicholas, of good right she is my wife, and none by iust title can clayme hir.” Whereunto none at al made answere, looking that he shoulde haue proceeded further. In the meane while Nicholas and the rest that were there, fell into earnest weepinge. But maister Gentil, rising from the borde and taking in his armes the little childe, and the gentlewoman by the hand, went towardes Nicholas, and sayd vnto him: “Rise vp sir gossip, I do not restore vnto thee thy Wife, whom thy frends and householde did cast into the Streat, but I will geue thee this Gentlewoman my Gossip, with the litle childe, that is, as I am assured begotten of thee, for whom at the christening I made answere and promise, and called him Gentil, and do pray thee that she be no lesse esteemed of thee now (for being in my house almost three moneths) than she was before. For I swere by the almighty God, who made me in loue with hir, (peraduenture that my loue might be the cause of hir preseruation) that she neuer liued more honestly with hir father, mother, or with thee, than she hath done in company of my mother.” When he had sayd so, he returned towards the Gentlewoman, and sayd vnto hir: “Maistresse, from this time forth, I discharge you of the promise which you haue made me, and leaue you to your husband franke and free.” And when he had bestowed the gentlewoman, and the chylde in the fathers armes, he returned to his place agayne. Nicholas ioyfully receyued his Wyfe and childe, for the whych so mutch the more he reioysed, as hee was furthest of from hope of hir recouery, rendering inumerable thankes to the Knight and the rest, and moued with compassion hee wept for company, greatly praysing maister Gentil for that act, who was commended of ech man that heard the reporte thereof. The Gentlewoman was receiued into hir house wyth maruellous ioye: And longe tyme after she was gazed vpon by the Citizens of Bologna, as a thing to their great wonder reuiued agayne. Afterwards Maister Gentil continued styll a friend vnto Nicholas, and vnto hys Wyfe and Chyldren.
[ THE TWENTIETH NOUELL.]
Saladine in the habite of a Marchaunt, was honourably receyued into the house of mayster Thorello, who went ouer the Sea, in company of the Christians, and assigned a terme of his wyfe when she should mary agayne. He was taken, and caried to the Sovldan to be his Faulconer, who knowing him, and suffering himself to be knowen, did him great honour. Mayster Thorello fell sicke, and by Magique Art, was caried in a night to Pavie, where he found his wyfe about to mary agayne, who knowinge him, returned home with him to his owne house.
Very comely it is (sayeth Cicero in the second booke of hys Offices,) that Noblemens houses should styll be open to noble Guestes and Straungers. A saying by the honourable and other Estates to be fixed in sure remembraunce, and accordingly practised: For hospitality and houshold intertaynment, heaping vp double gayne and commodity. The Guest it linketh and knitteth in fast band of perfect friendship, common familiarity, disporte of mynde and pleasant recreation, the poore and needy it feedeth, it cherisheth, it prouoketh in them deuout prayers, godly blessings, and seruice in tyme of neede. Hospitality is a thing so diuine, as in law of Nature and Chryst, it was well and brotherly obserued. Lot disdayned not to receyue the Aungels, which were straungers vnto him, and by reason of hys common vse thereof, and theyr frendly intertaynment, he and his houshold was delyuered from the daunger of the City, escaped temporal fire, and obteined heauenly rewarde. Abraham was a friendly host to straungers, and therefore in his old dayes, and in the barrein age of his wyfe Sara, he begat Isaac. Ietro albeit he was an Ethnicke and vnbeleuyng man, yet lyberally intertained Moyses, and maried him to Sephora, one of his Daughters. The poore widow of Sarepta interteined Helias, and Symon the Currior disdayned not Peter, nor Lydia the purple silke woman, Paule and his fellowes. Forget not Hospitality, (saith the said Apostle Paule,) for wyth the same diuers haue pleased Aungels by receiuing them into theyr houses. If Paule the true preacher of eternall Healthe, hath so commended kepyng of good Houses which by the former terme wee call Hospitality, then it is a thing to bee vsed amonges those that bee able to mainteine the same: who ought with liberall hand frankely to reach bread and victuals to their acquaintance, but specially to straungers, whych wandering in forein places, be vtterly vnable to helpe themselues, and peraduenture in sutch neede, as without sutch curtesie, do perishe. For the further amplification of whych vertue, what shall I neede to remember straunge and prophane Histories? as of Symon of Athens, who was so famous in the same, as the tyrant Crytias, when he wished for the ryches of Scopades and the victories of Agesilaus, forgat not also to craue the liberality of Cimon. Pacuuius also, the Prynce of Campania, so friendly entertained Annibal, as when his sonne to do the Romanes a good turne, would haue killed him as he sat at supper, was staied by his fathers request (whom he made priuy of his intent before they sate downe.) Pacuuius had he not more regarded the office of hospitality, than the safety of his countrey, might ful wel by that murder, haue defended the same from the destruction whereunto afterwards it fel. Homere reporteth, that Menelaus fighting a combat with Paris of Troy made inuocation and prayer vnto the Gods, that he might be reuenged vpon him for the rape of his wife Helena, to the intent the posterity hearing of his punishmente, mighte feare to polute friendly housholde interteynment. Wherefore, sith hospitality hath bene thus put in vse in elder tyme, practysed in all ages, and the poluters of the same detested and accurssed, and hath notorious commodities incident vnto it, I deeme it so worthy to be frequented in noble men and all degrees, as theyr Palaces and great houses should swarme wyth guests, and their gates lustring with whole multitudes of the poore to be satisfied with relief. Sutch hath ben the sacred vse and reuerent care of auncient tyme. Sutch hath bene the zealous loue of those whose fieldes and barnes, closets, and chestes haue bene stored and stuffed with worldely wealth, that comparing that golden age, glistering with piety and vertue, to these our worsse than copper days, cancred with all corruption, we shal find the match so like, as darke and light, durt and Aungell golde. Ceasing then of further discourse hereof, this history folowing shall elucidate and displaye the mutuall beneuolence of two noble personages, the one a mighty Souldan, an enimy of God, but yet a fryende to those that fauored good entertainment and housekepyng: the other a Gentleman of Pauie, a rich and liberall marchaunt, and a friendly welcomer of straungers. The Souldan demaunding the way to Pauie, somewhat digressing from the same, is not onely honourably conueyed to Pauie, and feasted there, but also sumptuously cheryshed, banketted, and rewarded by the sayd Marchant before his commyng thyther. The marchant man desirous to be one of the holye voyage intended by christian Princes, passed ouer the seas, who put to his shifts there throughe the aduerse lucke receyued by the Christians, became the Souldans Fawconer, and afterwardes knowen vnto him by certaine markes and signes, is with greater honor intertained of the Souldan, and more richly guerdoned, sent home agayne by Magike Arte to anticipate the mariage of his wife, vnto whom he had prefixed a certaine date and terme to marry againe if before that tyme, he did not returne. All which Noble entertainment, and the circumstances thereof, in this manner do begin. In the time of the Emperour Fredericke the firste, the Chrystians to recouer the Holy Lande, made a generall voyage and passage ouer the Sea. Saladine a most vertuous Prynce, then Souldan of Babylon, hauing intelligence thereof, a certayne time before, determined in his own person to see and espy the preparation which the Christian Princes made for that passage, the better to prouide for his owne, and hauing put order for his affayres in Ægypt, making as though he would go on Pilgrimage, tooke his iourney in the apparel of a Marchant, accompanied only with two of his chiefest and wisest counsellers, and three seruaunts. And when he had searched and trauelled many christian prouinces, and riding through Lumbardy to passe ouer the Mountaynes, it chaunced that betweene Millan and Pauy, somwhat late he met wyth a gentleman named mayster Thorello de Istria of Pauy, who with his houshoulde, his dogges and hawkes, for his pleasure went to soiorne in one of his Manours, that was delectably placed upon the ryuer of Tesino. And when maister Thorello sawe them come, thinckinge that they were certayn Gentlemen straungers, he desired to do them honour. Wherefore Saladine demaunding of one of mayster Thorello his men, how farre it was from thence to Pauie, and whether they might come thither time inough to go in, master Thorello would not suffer his man to speake, but he himself made aunswere, saying: “sirs, yee cannot get into Pauie in time, for that the Gates will be shut before your comming.” Than sayd Saladine: “tell us then wee pray you, bicause we be straungers, where wee may lodge this night.” Maister Thorello sayd: “That will I willingly do, I was about euen presently to send one of my men that be here, so far as Pauie, about certayne businesse, him wil I appoint to be your guide to a place where you shall haue very good lodging,” and callinge one of his wysest men vnto him, he gaue him charge of that he had to do, and sent him with them, after whom he followed: where incontynently in so good order as he could, caused to be made redy a sumptuous supper, and the tables to be couered in a pleasant garden. Afterwards hee went himselfe to entertayne them. The seruaunt talking with the Gentlemen of many thinges, conducted them at leysure somwhat out of the way to protract the time, to his maysters house: and so soon as maister Thorello espied them, he with liberall heart and bountifull mynde bad them welcome. Saladine which was a very wyse man, well perceyued that the Gentleman doubted that they woulde not haue come vnto hym if he had inuited them at their first meetinge, and for that cause, to the intent they should not refuse to lodge at his house, he had pollitiquely caused them to be conducted thither, and aunsweringe hys greeting, sayd: “Syr, if a man may quarrell with them that be curteous, wee may complayne of you, who leauinge a part our way which you haue caused somewhat to be lengthened, without deseruinge your good will, otherwise than by one onely salutation, you haue constrayned vs to take and receyue this your so great curtesie.” The wise and well spoken Knight, sayd: “Syr, thys curtesie which you receyue of me, in respect of that which belongeth vnto you, as by your countenaunce I may wel coniecture, is very small, but truely out of Pauie ye could haue got no lodging that had ben good: and therefore be not displeased I pray you to be caried out of the way, to haue a little better intertaynment,” and saying so, his men came forth to receyue those straungers, and when they were lighted, their horsses were taken and conueyed into the stables, and mayster Thorello caryed the three Gentlemen to their chambers, which he had prepared for them, where their Bootes were pulled of, and excellent wyne brought forth, somewhat to refresh them before supper: then he held them with pleasaunt talke vntyll the houre of supper was com. Saladine and they which were with him, could all speake Latine, and therefore well vnderstanded, and they lykewise vnderstoode eche man, by meanes whereof euery of them, thought that the Gentleman was the most curteous and best conditioned Personage, indued with the most eloquent talke that euer they sawe. On the other side it seemed to mayster Thorello, that they were the noblest and Princelik personages, and far more worthy of estimation then he thought before. Wherefore, he was very angry wyth himselfe, that he had no greater company and better intertaynment for them that night, which he purposed to recompence the next day at dinner. Wherefore hee sent one of hys men to Pauie, being not farr from thence, to his wife, that was a very wise and noble gentlewoman, and afterwards he brought them into the garden where he curteously demaunded what they were. To whom Saladine answered: “we be marchaunts of Cypres trauailing to Paris, about our businesse.” Then said maister Thorello: “I would to God that this country brought forth such gentlemen as the land of Cypres maketh marchants,” and so passed the time from one talke to another, vntyll supper time came: Wherefore to honour them the better caused them to sit downe at the Table, euery of them according to his degree and place: And there they were exceadingly wel intreated and serued in good order, their supper being farre more bountifull than they looked for. And they sate not longe after that the table was taken away, but maister Thorello supposing them to be weary, caused them to be lodged in gorgeous and costly beds: and he likewyse within a while after went to bed. The seruaunt sent to Pauie, did the message to his mistresse, who not like a woman wyth a womanish heart, but like one of Princely Mind, incontinently caused many of her husband’s frends and seruaunts to be sent for. Afterwards she made ready a great feast, and inuited the noblest and chiefest Citizens of the City: apparelling hir house wyth clothe of gold and silke, tapistrie and other furnitures, putting in order all that which hir husband had commaunded. The next day in the morning the Gentleman rose, with whom maister Thorello mounted on horsebacke, and carying with him his Hawks, he brought them to the Ryuer, and shewed them diuers flightes. But Saladine demaunding where the best lodging was in Pauie, maister Thorello sayd: “I wyll shew you my selfe, for that I haue occasion to go thither.” They beleeuing him, were contented, and rode on their way, and being about nine of the clock, arriued at the City, thinking they should haue ben brought to the best Inne of the towne: but maister Thorello conueyed them to his owne house, where fiftye of the chiefest Citizens ready to receiue them sodaynly appeared before them. Which Saladine, and they that were wyth him perceyuinge, coniectured by and by what that dyd meane, and sayd: “Maister Thorello, this is not the request whych wee demaunded, your entertainment yesternight was to sumptuous and more then we desired, wherefore giue vs leaue we praye you to departe.” Whom maister Thorello answered: “My maisters, for that which ye receyued yesternight I wil giue thanks to Fortune, and not to you: for I ouertaking you by the way, forced you in a maner to make your repayre vnto my homely house: but for thys morninge voyage, I haue my selfe prepared, and likewyse the Gentlemen about you, with whom to refuse to dine, if you thincke it curtesie, doe as yee please.” Saladine and his companions vanquished wyth sutch persuation, lighted, and being receiued by the Gentlemen in louing and curteous order, were conueied to their chambers, which were richly furnished for them, and hauing put of their riding apparel, and somewhat refreshed themselues, they came into the Hall, where all things were in redinesse in triumphant sorte. Then Water was brought them to washe, and they placed at the Table, were serued wyth many delicate meats in magnificent and royal order, in sutch wise, as if the Emperour himselfe had bene there coulde not haue bene better entertayned. And albeit that Saladine and his companions were great Lordes, and accustomed to see marueylous thynges, yet they wondred very mutch at thys, considering the degree of the Knight, whom they knewe to bee but a Citizen and no Prynce or great Lord. When dinner was done, and that they had talked a little together, the weather waxing very hot, the Gentlemen of Pauie, (as it pleased mayster Thorello) went to take their rest, and he remayned wyth his three Guests: with whom he went into a chamber, where to the intent that nothing which he had and loued might be vnseene, caused his honest Wyfe to be called forth: who being very beautiful and wel fauored, clothed in rich and costly array, accompanied with her two yong sonnes, which were like to Aungels, came before them, and gratiously saluted them. When they saw her, they rose vp, and reuerently receiued hir, then they caused hir to sit downe in the mids of them, sporting and dalying with hir two fayre sonnes. But after she had pleasantly entred in talk, she asked them of whence they were, and whither they were going? To whom the Gentlemen made the same aunswere that they had done before to maister Thorello. Then the Gentlewoman sayd vnto them with smilinge cheere: “I perceyue then that mine aduice being a woman, is come well to passe. And therefore I pray you, that of your special grace you will do me this pleasure, as not to refuse or disdain the litle present that I shall bring before you, but that you take it, in consideration that women according to their little ability, giue little things, and that yee regard more the affection of the person whych offreth the gist, then the value of the giuen thing.” And causing to be brought before euery of them two fayre Roabes, the one lined with silke, and the other with Meneuayr, not in fashion of a Citizen, or of a Marchant, but Noblemanlike, and III. Turkey gownes with sleeues of Taffata, lined with linnen cloth, she sayde vnto them: “Take I pray you these roabes, with the like whereof this day I apparelled my husband, and the other things may also serue your turnes, although they be little worth, considering that yee be farre from your Wyues, and the greatnesse of your iorney, which you haue taken, and haue yet to make, and also for that Marchantmen loue to be neat, and fine in things appertinent to their bodies.” The Gentlemen mutch maruelled, and playnly knew that Maister Thorello was disposed not to forget any one part of curtesie towards them, and doubted (by reason of the beauty and richesse of the roabes not marchantlike,) that they should not be knowne of mayster Thorello, notwithstandinge one of them aunswered her: “These be (Gentlewoman) very great gifts, and ought not lightly to be accepted, if your intreaty did not constraine vs, against which no denial ought to be made.” That done, when mayster Thorello returned into the chamber, the Gentlewoman tooke her leaue, and went hir way: and then shee furnished the seruants with diuers other things necessary for them, and Mayster Thorello obtayned by earnest request, that they should tary all that day. Wherefore after they had rested themselues a while, they did put on their roabes, and walked forth on horsebacke into the Citty: and when supper tyme was come, they were bountifully feasted in honorable company: and when bed time approched, went to rest. And so soone as it was day they rose, and founde in steade of their weary Hackneyes, three fat and fayre Palfreyes, and also the like number of fresh and mighty horsses for their seruaunts: Which Saladine seeing, turned towardes his companions, and sayd vnto them: “I sweare by God that ther was neuer a more liberall Gentleman, more courteous or better conditioned than this is. And if Christian kings for their part be sutch, I meane indued with sutch kingly qualities as this Gentleman is, the Souldan of Babylon shall haue inough to do to deale with one, and not to attend for all those which we see to be in preparation for inuasion of his Country.” But seeing that to refuse them or render them agayne, serued to no purpose, they thanked him very humbly, and got vppon their horse. Mayster Thorello wyth many of his frends, accompanied them out of the Citty a great peece of the way: And albeit that it mutch greeued Saladine to depart from mayster Thorello (so farre in he was already in loue with him) yet being constrayned to forgo his company, hee prayed him to returne, who although very loth to depart, sayd unto them: “Syrs, I will be gone, sith it is your pleasure I shall so do, and yet I say vnto you, that I know not what you be, ne yet demaund to know, but so farre as pleaseth you. But what soeuer yee be, you shall not make me beleue at this tyme, that yee be marchauntes, and so I bid you farewell.” Saladine hauing taken hys leaue of those that accompanied mayster Thorello, answered him: “Syr, it may come to passe, that we may let you see our marchaundise, the better to confirme your beleefe.” And so departed. Saladine then hauing thus taken his leaue, assuredly determined if he liued, and that the Warres he looked for did not let him, to do no lesse honor to mayster Thorello, then he had done to him, and fell into great talke with his companions of him, of his Wyfe and of his things, acts and deedes, greatly praysing all his entertaynment. But after he had trauayled and vewed al the west parts, imbarkinge himselfe and his company, he returned to Alexandria, throughly informed of his enemies indeuors, prepared for his defence. Mayster Thorello returned to Pauie, and mused a long time what these three might be, but he coulde not so mutch as gesse, what they were. When the tyme of the appoynted passage for the Chrystians was come, and that great preparation generally was made, Mayster Thorello notwithstandinge the teares and prayers of his Wyfe, was fully bent to go thither, and hauinge set all thinges in order for that Voyage, and ready to get on horsebacke, he sayd vnto hir whom he perfectly loued: “Sweete Wyfe, I am goinge as thou seest, this Iourney, aswell for myne honour sake, as for health of my soule: I recommende vnto you our goodes and honor: And bycause I am not so certayne of my retourne, for a thousand accydentes that may chaunce, as I am sure to goe, I praye thee to doe mee thys pleasure, that what so euer chaunceth of mee, yf thou haue no certayne newes of my life, that yet thou tarry one yeare, one Moneth, and one day, the same terme to begin at the day of my departure.” The Gentlewoman whych bytterly wept, answered: “I know not dear husband how I shal be able to beare the sorrowe wherein you leaue mee, if you goe awaye: But yf my Lyfe bee more stronge and sharpe, than sorrowe it selfe: and whether you lyue or dye, or what so euer come of you, I wyll lyue and dye the Wyfe of Mayster Thorello, and the onely spouse of hys remembraunce.” Whereunto mayster Thorello sayde: “Sweete Wyfe, I am more than assured that touching your selfe, it wyll proue as you do promise: But you beyng a younge Woman, fayre, and well allyed, and your Vertue greate and well knowne throughoute the Countrye, I am sure that many greate Personages and gentlemen (if any suspytyon bee conceyued of my Death) wyll make requestes to your brethren and Kindred, from whose pursute (althoughe you be not disposed,) you can not defende your selfe, and it behoueth that of force, you please theyr wil, whych is the onely reason that moueth mee to demaunde that terme, and no longer tyme.” The Gentlewoman sayd: “I wil doe what I can for fulfilling of my promyse: And albeit in the ende that I shall bee constrayned to doe contrary to my lykyng, be assured that I wyll obey the charge whych nowe you haue gyuen me: And I moste humbly thanke Almyghty God, that hee neuer brought vs into these termes before this tyme.” Theyr talke ended, the Gentlewoman weepyng embraced mayster Thorello, and drawyng a Ryng from hir Fynger, she gaue it hym, sayinge: “If it chaunce that I dye before I see you, remember me when you shal beholde the same.” He receiuinge the ring, got vp vppon his horse, and takinge his leaue, went on hys voyage, and arriued at Genoua shipped himself in a Galley, and toke his way, whereunto wind and weather so fauored, as wythin fewe dayes he landed at Acres, and ioyned wyth the army of the Chrystyans: wherein began a great mortalytye and Plague, duryng which infection (what so euer was the cause) eyther by the industrie or Fortune of Saladine the rest of the Christians that escaped were almost taken and surprised by him, without any fighte or blowe stricken. All which were imprysoned in many cities, and deuided into diuers places, amongs whych prysoners maister Thorello was one, who was caryed captyue to Alexandria, where beyng not knowne, and fearyng to be knowne, forced of necessitie, gaue him selfe to the keepyng of Hawkes, a qualitie wherein he had very good skyll, whereby in the ende hee grew to the acquaintance of the Souldan, who for that occasion (not knowing him that time) toke hym out of pryson, and retayned him for his Fawconer. Maister Thorello which was called of the Souldan by none other name than Chrystian, whome hee neyther knewe, ne yet the Souldan him, had none other thing in his mynde and remembraunce but Pauia, and manye tymes assayed to escape and run away: But he neuer came to the poynt: Wherfore dyuers Ambassadoures from Genoua being come to Saladine, to raunsome certayne of theyr Prysoners, and being ready to returne, hee thought to wryte vnto his wyfe, to let hir know that he was aliue, and that hee would come home so soone as he coulde, praying hir to tarry his retourne: Which was the effecte of hys Letter: verye earnestly desiring one of the ambassadours of his acquayntaunce to doe so mutch for hym as safely to delyuer those Letters to the Handes of the Abbot of S. Pietro in ciel Doro, whych was hys Vncle. And Mayster Thorello standing vppon these termes, it chaunced vpon a day as Saladine was talking with him of his Hawkes, Thorello began to smyle and to make a Iesture wyth hys mouth, whych Saladine beyng at his house at Pauie did very well note, by which act Saladine began to remember him, and earnestly to viewe hym, and thought that it was he in deede. Wherefore leauing his former talke, he sayd: “Tell me Chrystian of what countrey art thou in the West parts?” “Sir” sayd Mayster Thorello, “I am a Lombarde, of a City called Pauie, a poore man and of meane estate.” So soone as Saladine heard that, as assured wherof he doubted, said to himself: “God hath giuen me a time to let thys man know how thankfully I accepted his curtesy that hee vsed towards me,” and without any more words, hauing caused all his apparell in a chamber to be set in order, he broughte him into the same and sayd: “Behold Christian, if amonges al these roabes, there be any one which thou hast seene before.” Maister Thorello began to looke vpon them, and saw those which his wyfe had giuen to Saladine: but he could not beleue that it was possible that they should be the same, notwithstanding hee answered: “Sir, I knowe them not, albeit my mind giueth me that these twayne do resemble the roabes which sometimes I ware, and caused them to be giuen to three marchaunt men that were lodged at my house.” Then Saladine not able to forbear any longer, tenderly imbraced him, saying: “You be maister Thorello de Istria, and I am one of the three Marchaunts to whom your wife gaue those roabes: and now the time is come to make you certenly beleue what my marchaundise is, as I tolde you when I departed from you that it myght come to passe.” Maister Thorello hearyng those wordes, began to be both ioyfull and ashamed, ioyfull for that he had entertained sutch a guest, and ashamed that his fare and lodging was so simple. To whom Saladine said: “maister Thorello, sith it hath pleased god to send you hither, thynke from henceforth that you be Lord of this place and not I.” and making great chere, and reioysing one wyth an other, he caused him to be cloathed in royall vestures, and brought him into the presence of al the Noble men of his country: and after he had rehersed many thinges of his valor and commendation, commaunded him to be honoured as his owne person, of all those which desired to haue his fauor: Which thing euery Man dyd from that time forth: but aboue the rest, the two Lords that were in company with Saladine at his house. The greatnesse of the sodain glory wherein maister Thorello sawe himselfe, did remoue oute of his mind, his affayres of Lombardie, and specially, bicause hee hoped that his letters should trustely be deliuered to the hands of his vncle. Now there was in the camp of the Christians the daye wherein they were taken by Saladine, a Gentleman of Prouince, which dyed and was buryed, called maister Thorello de Dignes, a man of great estimation: whereby (maister Thorello of Istria known through out the whole army for his nobility and prowesse) euery man that heard tell that maister Thorello was dead, beleued that it was mayster Thorello de Istria, and not he de Dignes, and by reason of his taking, the truth whether of them was deade, was vnknown: Wherfore many Italians returned with those newes, amongs whom som wer so presumptuous, as they toke vpon them to saye and affyrme that they saw him deade, and were at his burial: Whych knowen to his wyfe and his friends, was an occasion of very great and inestimable Sorrow, not onely to them: but to all other that knewe him. Very long it were to tell what great sorrow, heauinesse, and lamentation his wife did vtter, who certain moneths after shee had continually so tormented hir selfe, (and when hir grief began to decrease, being demaunded of many great personages of Lombardie) was counselled by hir brothers, and other of hir kin, to mary again. Which thing after she had many times refused, in very great anguish and dolor, finally being constrained thereunto, she yelded to the minds of hir parents: But yet vpon condicion, that the nuptials should not be celebrate vntyll sutch tyme as she had performed hir promise made to maister Thorello. Whilest the affaires of this Gentlewoman were in those termes at Pauie, and the time of hir appoyntment within eight dayes approched, it chaunced that maister Thorello vpon a day espyed a man in Alexandria, (which hee had seene before in the company of the Ambassadors of Genoua,) going into the galley that was bound with them to Genoua, wherfore causing him to be called, he demaunded what voyage they had made, and asked him when they arriued at Genoua? To whom he sayd: “Sir the Galley made a very ill voyage as I hard say in Creta, where I remayned behynd them, for being neare the coast of Sicilia there rose a maruellous tempest, which droue the galley vpon the shoare of Barbarie, and not one of them within bord escaped, amongs whom two of my brethren were likewise drowned.” Mayster Thorello giuing credite to the words of this fellow, which were very true, and remembring himselfe that the terme whych he had couenaunted with his Wyfe was almost expired, and thinkinge that they could hardly come by the knowledge of any newes of hym or of his state, beleued verily that his Wyfe was maried agayne, for sorrow whereof he fell into sutch melancholy, as he had no lust to eate or drinke, and laying him downe vpon his bed, determined to die: whych so soone as Saladine, (who greatly loued hym) did vnderstand, he came to visite him, and after that he had (through instant request) knowen the occasion of his heauinesse and disease, hee blamed him very mutch for that he did no sooner disclose vnto him his conceipt: And afterwards prayed him to be of good cheere, assuring him if he would, so to prouide as he shoulde be at Pauie, iust at the terme which he had assigned to his Wyfe: and declared vnto him the order how. Mayster Thorello geuinge credit to the words of Saladine, and hauinge many times hard say, that it was possible, and that the like had bene many times done, began to comfort himselfe, and to vse the company of Saladine, who determined fully vpon his voyage and returne to Pauie. Then Saladine commaunded one of his Nycramancers, (whose science already he had well experienced) that hee shoulde deuise the meanes how mayster Thorello might be borne to Pauie in one night, vpon a bed: Whereunto the Nycromancer aunswered that it should be done, but that it behoued for the better doing thereof, that he should be cast into a sleepe: And when Saladine had geuen order thereunto, he returned to mayster Thorello, and finding him fully purposed to be at Pauy if it were possible at the terme which he had assigned, or if not, to die: sayd thus vnto hym: “Mayster Thorello, if you do heartely loue your Wyfe and doubt least she be maried to an other, God forbid that I should stay you by any manner of meanes, bicause of all the Women that euer I saw, she is for maners, comely behauiour, and decent order of apparell, (not remembring her beauty, which is but a fading floure) mee thyncke most worthy to bee praysed and loued. A gladsome thynge it woulde haue beene to mee (sith Fortune sent you hither) that the tyme which you and I haue to liue in this worlde, we myght haue spent together, and liued Lordes of the Kingdome which I possesse, and if God be minded not to do me that grace, at least wyse sith you be determined either to dye or to returne to Pauie, at the terme which you haue appointed, my great desire is, that I myght haue knowen the same in time, to the intente you myghte haue bene conducted thither wyth sutch honour and trayn as your Vertues do deserue: Which sith God wyl not that it bee brought to passe, and that you wyll neades be there presently, I wyll send you as I can in manner before expressed.” Whereunto maister Thorello said: “Sir, the effect (bisides your wordes) hath don me suffycient knowledge of your good wyll, which I neuer deserued, and that whych you told me, I cannot beleeue, so long as Lyfe is in me, and therefore am most certayne to dye: But sith I am so determyned, I beseeche you to do that which you haue promised out of hand, bicause to morrow is the last day of the appoyntment assigned to my wyfe.” Saladine said, that for a truth the same should be don: And the next day the Souldan purposing to send hym the nyght following, he caused to be made ready in a great hall a very fayre and rych bed, all quilted according to their manner (wyth vyluet and clothe of gold), and caused to be layed ouer the same, a Couerlet wroughte ouer with borders of very great pearles, and rich precious stones: which euer afterwardes was deemed to be an infinite treasure, and two pillowes sutelike vnto that bed: that don, he commaunded that they should inuest maister Thorello, (who now was lustie) with a Sarazine roabe, the richest and fairest thing that euer anye Man saw, and vpon his head one of his longest bands, wreathen according to theyr manner, and being already late in the Euenyng, hee and diuers of his Barons went into the Chamber wher Mayster Thorello was, and being set down besides him, in weeping wise hee began to say: “Maister Thorello, the time of our separation doth now approche, and bicause that I am not able to accompany you, ne cause you to be waited vpon, for the qualitie of the way which you haue to passe, I must take my leaue here in this chamber, for which purpose I am come hither: Wherefore before I byd you farewel, I pray you for the loue and friendship that is betwene vs, that you do remember me if it be possible before our dayes do end, after you haue giuen order to your affayres in Lombardie, to come agayne to see me before I dye, to the end that I beyng reioyced with your second visitation, may be satisfied of the pleasure which I lose this day for your vntimely hast: and trusting that it shall come to passe, I pray you let it not be tedious vnto you to visite me wyth your letters, and to require me in thynges wherein it may lyke you to commaund, which assuredly I shall accomplish more frankely for you, than for any other liuing man.” Maister Thorello was not able to retaine teares: wherefore to staye the same, he answered him in few woordes, that it was impossible that euer hee shoulde forget his benefites, and his worthy friendship extended vpon him, and that without default he would accomplish what he had commaunded, if God did lend him life and leysure. Then Saladine louingly imbracing and kissing him, pouring forth many teares, bad him farewell, and so went oute of the chamber: And all the other Noble men afterwards tooke theyr leaue likewise of him, and departed with Saladine into the hal wher he had prepared the bed, but being already late, and the Necromancer attending, and hasting his dispatch, a Phisitian broughte him a drinke, and made him beleue that it would fortifie and strengthen him in his iorney, causing him to drinke the same: which being done within a while after he fell a sleepe, and so sleeping was borne by the commaundment of Saladine, and layd vpon the fayre bed, whereupon he placed a rich and goodly crowne of passinge pryce and valor, vpon the which he had ingrauen so plaine an inscription, as afterwards it was knowne that the same was sent by Saladine to the wife of maister Thorello. After that he put a ring vpon his finger whych was beset wyth a Diamonde, so shining, as it seemed like a flamynge Torche, the Value whereof was hard to bee esteemed. Then he caused to bee girte aboute hym, a Sworde, the furniture and garnishing whereof could not easily be valued: and besides all thys, hee honge vppon hys Necke a Tablet or Brooche so beset wyth Stones, and Pearles, as the lyke was neuer seene. And afterwards he placed on either of hys sides, two exceding great Golden basens, full of double Ducates, and many cordes of Pearles and rings, girdels, and other things to tedious to reherse, wherewith he bedecked the place about him. Which done, he kissed him againe, and wylled the Necromancer to make hast. Wherfore incontinently maister Thorello, and the bed, in the presence of Saladine was caried out of sight and Saladine taried stil, deuising and talkyng of hym amongs his Barons. Maister Thorello being now laid in S. Peter Churche at Pauie, according to his request, with all his Iewels and habilliments aforesayd about him, and yet fast a slepe, the Sexten to ring to Mattens, entred the Church with light in his hand: and chauncing sodenly to espy the rych Bed, dyd not onely maruel thereat, but also ran away in great feare. And when the Abbot and the Monkes saw that hee made sutch hast away, they were abashed, and asked the cause why he ranne so fast? The Sexten tolde them the matter: “Why how now?” sayde the Abbot, “Thou art not sutch a Babe, ne yet so newlye come vnto the Church, as thou oughtest so lightly to be afraide. But let vs goe and see what bug hath so terribly frayed thee.” And then they lighted many Torches: And when the Abbot and his Monkes were entred the Church, they saw that wonderfull rich bed, and the Gentleman sleeping vpon the same. And as they were in this doubte and feere, beholding the goodly Iewels, and durst not goe neare the bed, it chaunced that maister Thorello awaked, fetchyng a gret sighe. The Monkes so soone as they saw that, and the Abbot with them, ran all away crying out, “God helpe vs, our Lord haue mercy vpon vs.” Maister Thorello opened his eyes, and playnly knew by loking round about him, that he was in the place where he demaunded to be of Saladine whereof he was very glad, and rising vp, and viewing particularily, what he had about him, albeit he knew before the magnificence of Saladine, now he thoughte it greater, and better vnderstood the same than before. But seeynge the Monkes run away, and knowyng the cause wherefore, he began to call the Abbot by hys name, and intreated hym not to bee affrayde: For he was Mayster Thorello his Nephewe. The Abbot hearyng that was dryuen into a greater feare, bicause he was accompted to bee dead diuers moneths before: but afterwards by diuers arguments, assured that hee was maister Thorello, and so often called by hys name (making a signe of the Crosse) he went vnto him. To whom maister Thorello sayd: “Whereof be you a frayd good father? I am aliue I thanke God, and from beyond the Sea returned hyther.” The Abbot (although he had a great beard, and apparelled after the guise of Arabie) crossed hymselfe agayne, and was wel assured that it was he. Then he tooke hym by the hande, and sayde vnto hym as followeth: “My Sonne thou art welcome home, and maruell not, that wee were afrayd: For there is none in all thys Citty, but doth certaynly beleeue that thou art dead. In so mutch as madame Adalietta thy Wyfe, vanquished with the prayers and threates of hir frinds and kin, agaynst hir will is betrouthed agayne, and this day the espousals shall be done. For the mariage, and all the preparation necessary for the feast, is ready.” Mayster Thorello risinge out of the rich Bed, and reioysing wyth the Abbot and all his Monks, praied euery of them not to speake one word of his comminge home, vntill he had done what he was disposed. Afterwards placing al his rich Iewels in surety and sauegard, hee discoursed vnto his vncle what had chaunced vnto hym till that time. The Abbot ioyfull for his fortune, gaue thankes to God. Then mayster Thorello demaunded of his vncle, what he was that was betrouthed to hys Wyfe. The Abbot tolde hym: To whom maister Thorello sayd: “Before my returne be knowen, I am desirous to see what Countenaunce my Wyfe wyl make at the mariage. And therefore, albeit that the religious doe not vse to repayre to sutch Feastes, yet I pray you for my sake take payne to go thither.” The Abbot aunswered that he would willingly doe so. And so soone as it was Daye, hee sente woorde to the Brydegrome, that he, and a Frende of hys, woulde bee at the mariage: whereunto the Gentleman aunswered, that he was very glade thereof. When dinner tyme was come, mayster Thorello in the habite and apparel wherein he was, went with the Lord Abbot to the weddinge dinner, where euery of them that saw him, did maruellously beholde hym, but no man knew him, bicause the Abbot aunswered them that inquired, that he was a Sarazene, sent Ambassador from the Souldan to the French Kinge. Mayster Thorello was then placed at a table which was right ouer agaynst his Wyfe, whom he beheld with great pleasure and delight, and perceyued very wel by hir face that she was not well content with that mariage. She likewise beheld him sometimes, not for any knowledge she had of hym, for his great beard and straunge attire, the firme credite and generall opinion also that hee was deade, chiefly hindred it. But when mayster Thorello thought tyme to proue whether she had any remembraunce of him, he secretly conuayed into hys hande, the ring which she gaue him at hys departure, and called a little Boy that wayted vpon hir, and sayd vnto him: “Go tell the Bryde in my behalfe, that the custome of my countrey is, that when any Straunger (as I am here) is bydden by any new maried woman (as she is now,) for a token of his welcome, she sendeth vnto him the cup wherein she drinketh full of Wyne, whereof after the straunger hath dronke what pleaseth him, he couereth the cup agayne, and sendeth the same to the Bryde, who drinketh the rest that remayneth.” The Page did his message vnto the Bryde, who like a wise Gentlewoman wel brought vp, thinking he had ben some great personage, to declare that he was welcome, commaunded a great cup all gilt, standing before hir, to be washed cleane, and to be filled ful of Wyne, and caried to the Gentleman, which accordingly was don. Mayster Thorello hauing put into hys mouth the aforesayd ring, secretly let fall the same into the Cup as he was drinking, not perceyued of any man, to the intent that she drinking the latter draught, might espy the ringe. When he had dronk, he returned the cup vnto the Bryde, who thankfully receyued the same. And for that the manner of his countrey might be accomplished, when the cup was deliuered vnto hir, she vncouered the same, and pleadging the rest of the Wyne, beheld the ring, and without speaking any word, wel viewed the same, and knowing that it was the very Ring which she had geuen to maister Thorello, when he departed, tooke it out. And stedfastly did marke and looke vpon him, whom she supposed to be a straunger, and already knowinge him, cryed out as though she had bene straught of hir wittes, throwing downe the Table before hir: “This is my Lord and husband, this is of trouth Mayster Thorello.” And runnynge to the table without respect to hys apparell of Cloth of Gold, or to any thinge that was vpon the table, pressinge so neere him as she could, imbraced him very heard, not able to remoue hir handes from about his Necke for any thing that could bee sayd or done by the company that was there, vntill mayster Thorello required hir to forbeare for that present, for so mutch as she shoulde haue leysure inough to vse hir further imbracements. Then shee left him, and contented hir selfe for the tyme: but the brydale and mariage was wholly troubled and appalled for that sodayne chaunce, and the most part of the Guests excedingly reioyced for the return of that Noble knight. Then the company beinge intreated to sit and not to remoue, Maister Thorello rehearsed in open audience what had chaunced vnto him from the day of his departure vntill that tyme, concludinge with a petition to the Bridegrome, that had newly espoused his Wyfe, that he woulde not be displeased if he tooke hir agayne. The new maried Gentleman, albeit it greeued hym very sore, and thought himselfe to be mocked, aunswered liberally and like a Frende, that it was in hys power to do wyth hys owne what hee thought best. The Gentlewoman drawinge of the Rings and Garland which shee had receyued of hir newe Husbande, did put vppon hir finger the Ring which shee founde within the Cup, and likewyse the Crowne that was sent vnto hir by Saladine: And the whole troupe and assembly leauing the house where they were, went home with mayster Thorello and his wyfe, and there the kin and frends, and all the Citizens which haunted the same, and regarded it for a myracle, were with long feastinge and great cheare in great ioy and triumph. Mayster Thorello departing some of his precious Iewels to him that had bene at the cost of the marriage, likewise to the Lord Abbot and diuers others, and hauing done Saladine to vnderstand hys happy repayre home to his Countrey, recommending himselfe for euer to his commaundement, liued with his Wyfe afterwards many prosperous yeares, vsing the vertue of curtesie more than euer hee did before. Sutch was the ende of the troubles of maister Thorello, and hys wel beloued Wyfe, and the recompence of their franke and honest curtesies.
[ THE TWENTY-FIRST NOUELL.]
A Gentleman of meane callinge and reputation, doth fall in loue with Anne, the Queene of Hungarie, whom shee very royally requited.
Following the preceding arguments treated in certayne of the former Nouelles, I wyll now discourse the princely kindnesse and curtesy done to a poore Gentleman, by a Lady of later dayes, Anne the Queene of Hungary. whych Gentleman, though beyonde hys reache to catch what he aspired, fell in loue with that bountifull and vertuous Gentlewoman, thinkinge (by like) that she in end woulde haue abased her Maiesty, to recline to hys vayne and doting trauayle. But she like a Queene, not despisinge the poore mans loue, vouchsafed by familiar speech to poure some drops of comfort into his louinge minde, and once to proue, on whom he fixed his fansie, reached him a Nosegay, and prayed him to bestowe it vpon whom hee liked best. All which familiar dealings she vsed, to keepe the poore pacient from despayre, that so highly had placed hym selfe. But in end perceyuinge his continuaunce, would not reiect and geue hym ouer, or with Scornes and Flouts contemne the Amorous Gentleman: and that longe loue myght gayne some deserued guerdon, she neuer left hym vntyll she had preferred him to a Noble office in Spayne. The noble disposition of this chast and gentle Queene, I thought good to adioyn next to that of maister Thorella and Saladine: who for curtesie and passinge mutuall kindnesse, are worthy of remembraunce. And for you noble Dames for a Christall to sharpen your sightes, and viewe the recompence of loue, done by a Queene of passing beauty, and yet most chast and vertuous, that it might somewhat touch your squeymish stomackes and haulty hearts, and lenifie that corrosiue humor, which with frowning face, forceth you to ouerperke your humble suppliants. A helpinge preseruatiue I hope this Hystory shalbe to imbolden you, in sutes and petitions to their prince and soueraygne: An incoragement (I hope) to be mediators for sutch, as by seruice and warfare haue confirmed their faythfull deuoirs for defence of their Countrey. Remember the care the Romane matrones had for those that deserued well of their Common wealth: as how they mourned for Lucius Brutus one whole yeres space, for his good reuenge ouer the rauishers of Lucrece: and for Martius Coriolanus, for hys piety and mothers sake, discharging his Countrey from the enemies siege. Let mistresse Paolina of the priuy Chamber to this Queene Anne, render example for preferment of sutch as be worthy to be cherished and esteemed. O how Liberality beseemeth a Queene, no lesse (as one maketh comparison) than the bright beames of the Sunne, or the twinkling starres in the Firmament. Oh how diligence in Gentlewomen, aduaunced to Princes Chambers, no lesse than the greene leaues to braunched Trees, or dyuers coloured Floures in Nosegayes. So flourishing be the fruites that bud from liberality, and freshe the benefites that succeede of the payneful trauayles sustayned in the sutes of seruiceable Gentlemen. This Philippo whom the Queene preferred, and liberally rewarded, was a meane Gentleman, but yet learned and well furnished with commendable qualities. His deserued aduauncement may stirre vp ech Gentle heart, to merite and serue in Common wealth. His warninge and other vertues may awake the sluggish Courtier, from loytering on Carpets, and doinge thinges vnseemely: His diligence also reuiue the blockish sprites of some that rout their tyme in sluggish sleepe, or waste the day in harlotrie and other filthy exercise. Whose example yf they practise, or imitate sutch commendable life as becommeth their estates, then glory will followe their deedes, as the shadowe doeth the body. Then welfare and liuelihoode aboundantly shal bee mynistred to supply want of patrimonie or defect of parents portion. And thus the Hystory doth begin. Not long sithens Queene Anne, the sister of Lewes, that was king of Hungarie, and wife to Ferdinando Archeduke of Austriche, (which at this day is parcel of the kingdome of Hungary and Boeme,) together with the Lady Mary daughter of Philip kynge of Spayne, and wife of the sayd Lewes, went to keepe hir abode, and soiorne in Hispurge, a Countrey among the Dutch very famous, where many tymes the Court of the Hungarian Prynces longe space remayned. These two Noble Queenes remained within the Palace of king Maximilian, Emperour at that time elected, which Palace is so neare adioyning to the Cathedrall Church, as without sight of the people at their pleasure they mighte by a secrete Gallerie passe to the Church to heare diuine seruyce accustomably celebrated there. Which vse they dayly obserued with theyr Ladies and Gentlewomen, and other Lordes and Gentlemen of the Court. In which church was made and erected a high place in manner of a Closet gorgeously wrought, and in royall manner apparelled of sutch amplitude as it was hable to receyue the whole trayn and company attendant vpon the Persons of the two Quenes. Now it came to passe that a Gentleman of Cremona in Italy called Philippo di Nicuoli, whych in those dayes by reason of the recouery of the Duchie of Milane, by the Frenche, departed Lombardie, and went to Hispurge, and was Secretarie to Signa Andrea Borgo, bicause he was well learned, and could wryte very fayre, and therwithall a proper and very haundsome man. This yong Gentleman very mutch frequenting the Church, and seeing the beauty of Queene Anne, to excell all the reast of the Ladies, adorned and garnished with princely behauiour and Queenelyke qualytyes, not foreseeyng (when hee beheld hir) the nature of loue, whych once being possessed, neuer leaueth the pacient til it hath infebled his state lyke the quality of poyson, distillinge through the vaynes, euen to the heart. Which louing venim this Gentleman did drinke with the lookes of his eyes, to satisefy and content his desired minde by vewinge and intentife considering hir wonderful beauty, that rapt beyond measure, he was myserably intangled wyth the snares of blind and deceiptfull loue, wherewith he was so cruelly inflamed, as he was lyke to sorte out of the bounds of reason and Wyt. And the more he did beholde the hyghnesse of hir Maiesty, and the excellency of so great a Lady, and therewithal did weigh and consider hys base degree and Lignage, and the poore state whereunto frowarde fortune that tyme had brought him, the more he thought hymselfe frustrate and voyde of hope, and the more the perillous flames of loue did assayle and fire his amorous heart, kindlinge hys inward partes with loue so deepely ingraffed, as it was impossible to be rooted out. Mayster Philippo then in this manner (as you haue heard) knotted and intrapped within the fillets and laces of loue, supposing all labour which hee should imploy to be lost and consumed, throughly bent himselfe with all care and diligence to atchieue this hygh and honorable enterprise, whatsoeuer should come of it: whych effectually he pursued. For alwayes when the Queenes were at church to heare deuine seruice, he fayled not to bee there. And hauinge done his duetyfull reuerence, whych very comely he could do, he vsed to bestow himselfe dyrectly ouer agaynst hir: where delitinge in the beauty of the Queene whych dayly more and more inflamed his heart, would not depart from thence tyll the Queenes were disposed to goe. And if perchaunce for some occasion, the Queenes went not to Church, maister Philippo for all that (were his businesse neuer so great and needefull) would vouchsafe at least wise to visite the place, where he was wont to see his Lady. Sutch is the ordinary force of loue that although liberty of sight and talke be depryued from the pacient, yet it doeth hym good to treade in the Steps of that Ground where his Mistresse doth vsually haunt, or to see the place vppon whych she eased hir tender corps, or leaned hir delicate elbowes. Thys young man bayted, and fed in amorous Toyes and Deuyses, now armed wyth hope, and by and by disarmed by despayre, reuolued in hys mynde a thousand thoughts and cogitations. And although he knew that hys Ladder had not steps inow to clyme so hygh, yet from his determined purpose hee was not able to remoue: but rather the more difficult and daungerous hys enterpryse seemed to bee, the more grew desire to prosecute and obiect hymselfe to all daungers. If peraduenture the Queenes for their disport and pastime were disposed to walke into the fieldes or gardens of the Citty of Hispurge, he fayled not in company of other Courtiers to make one of the troupe, beinge no houre at rest and quiet if he were not in the sight of Queene Anne, or neere the place where shee was. At that time there were many Gentlemen departed from Lumbardy to Hispurge, which for the most part followed the Lord Francisco Sforza the second, by whom they hoped when the Duchy of Mylane was recouered, to be restored to their countrey. There was also Chamberlayne to the sayd Lorde Francesco, one mayster Girolamo Borgo of Verona betwene whom and mayster Philippo, was very neere freendship and familiarity. And bicause it chaunseth very seldome, that feruent loue, can be kept so secrete and couert, but in some part it will discouer it selfe, mayster Borgo easily did perceyue the passion wherewith mayster Philippo was inflamed. And one mayster Philippo Baldo many times being in the company of mayster Borgo and Philippo, did marke and perceiue his loue, and yet was ignorant of the truth, or voyde of coniecture with what Gentlewoman he was inamored. But seeing him contrary to wonted custome altered, and from vsual mirth transported, fetchinge many sighes and strayninges from his stomake, and markinge how many times he would steale from the company he was in, and withdraw himselfe alone, to muse vppon hys thoughts, brought thereby into a melancholy and meane estate, hauing lost his sleepe, and stomak of eating meate: iudged that the amorous Wormes of loue did bitterly gnaw and teare his heart with the nebs of their forked heades. They three then being vppon a time together, debatinge of diuers thinges amonges themselues, chaunced to fall in argument of loue, and maister Baldo, and Borgo, the other Gentlemen, sayd to mayster Philippo, how they were wel assured that he was straungly attached with that passion, by marking and considering that new life, which lately he led contrary to former vse, intreating him very earnestly, that he would manifest his loue to them, that were his deere and faythfull frends, tellinge him that as in weighty matters otherwise he was already sure what they were, euen so in this he might hardily repose his hope and confidence, promisinge hym all their helpe and fauour, if therein their indeuour and trauayle might minister ayde and comfort. Hee then like one raysed from a trance, or lately reuiued from an extasie, after he had composed his Countenaunce and Gesture, wyth teares and multitude of sobbes, began to say these woordes: “My welbeloued freendes, and trusty companions, being right well assured that yee (whose fidelity I haue already proued, and whose secret mouthes be recommended amongs the wise and vertuous), will keepe close and couert the thinge which you shall heare me vtter, as of sutch importaunce, that if the yong Romane Gentleman Papyrus had been here, for all his silence of graue matters required by hys Mother, I woulde vnnethes haue dysclosed the same vnto hym. Indeede I cannot deny, but must needes confesse that I am in loue, and that very ardently, which I cannot in sutch wyse conceale, but that the blinde must needes clearely and euidently perceyue. And although my mouth would fayne keepe close, in what plight my passions do constrayne my inward affections, yet my face and straung maner of life, which for a certayne tyme and space I haue led, doe wittnesse, that I am not the man I was wont to bee. So that if shortly I doe not amend, I trust to arriue to that ende whereunto euery Creature is borne, and that my bitter and paynful life shall take ende, if I may call it a lyfe, and not rather a lyuing death: I was resolued and throughly determined, neuer to discouer to any man the cause of my cruell torment, being not able to manifest the same to hir, whom I doe only loue, thinking better by concealinge it through loue, to make humble sute to Lady Atropos, that shee woulde cut of the thred of my dolorous lyfe. Neuerthelesse to you, from whom I ought to keepe nothynge secrete, I wyll dysgarboyle and vnlace the very Secretes of my Minde, not for that I hope to finde comfort and reliefe, or that my passions by declaration of them, will lesson and diminishe, but that yee, knowinge the occasion of my death, may make report thereof to hir, that is the only mistresse of my life, that shee vnderstandinge the extreme panges of the truest louer that euer liued, may mourne and wayle hys losse: which thinge if my seely Ghost may knowe, no doubt where soeuer it do wander, shall receyue great ioy and comfort. Be it known vnto you therefore, the first day that myne Eyes behelde the diuine beauty and incomparable fauor of that superexcellent Lady Queene Anne of Hungary, and that I (more than wysedom required) did meditate, and consider the singuler behauiour and notable curtesie and other innumerable giftes wherewith shee is indued, the same beyond measure did so inflame my heart, that impossible it was for me to quench the feruent loue, or extinguish the least parte of my conceyued torment. I haue done what I can to macerate and mortefie my vnbridled desire, but all in vayne: My force and puissaunce is weake to match with so mighty an aduersary. Alas syres, I knowe what yee will obiect agaynst mee: yee will say that mine ignobility, my byrth and stocke be no meete matches for sutch a personage, and that my loue is to highly placed, to sucke reliefe: And the same I do confesse so wel as you. I do acknowledge my condition and state to base, I confesse that my loue (nay rather I may terme it folly) doth presume beyond the bounds of order: For the first tyme that I felt my selfe wrapped in those Snares, I knewe her to beare the Port amonges the chyefest Queenes, and to bee the peerelesse Pryncesse of Chrystendome. Agayne, I knew my selfe the poorest Gentleman of the Worlde, and the most myserable exile: I thought moreouer it to be very vnseemely for me to direct my mynde vpon a wight so honorable, and of so great estate: But who can rayne the Bridle, or prescribe lawes to loue? What is he that in loue hath free wil and choyse? Truely I beleeue no man, bicause loue the more it doth seeme to accorde in pleasure and delight, the further from the mark he shooteth his bolte, hauing no respect to degree or state. Haue not many excellent and worthy personages, yea Dukes, Emperours and Kinges, bin inflamed with the loue of Ladies, and Women of base and vile degree? Haue not most honorable dames, and Women of greatest renoume despised the honor of theyr states, abandoned the company of theyr hushands, and neglected the loue of theyr Chyldren, for the ardent loue that they haue borne to men of inferiour sort? All Historyes be full of examples of that purpose: The memoryes of our auncestors be yet in fresh remembraunce, whereof if they were ignorant vnto you that be of great experience, I could aduouche assured testimony: Yet thus mutch I say vnto you, that it seeme no newe thing for a man to be ouercome by his owne affectyon: It is not the Nobility of hir state, or for that shee is a Queene, it is not the consideration of one parte or other, that moued me first hereunto: But loue it is, that is of greater force than we our selues bee of, which many tymes maketh that to seeme lawfull, which altogether is vnlawful, and by subduing reason maketh the great potentate lorde tributarie to his wyl and pleasure, whose force is farre greater then the lawes of Nature. And albeit that I neuer hope to attayne to prosperous end of this magnifike and stately loue, whych more and more doth seeme infortunate, yet I can not for my Lyfe else where apply the same, or alter it to other place: And consumynge still through faithful and feruent loue borne to the Queene, I haue forced and constrained my self by al possible meanes to gyue ouer that fond and foolish enterprise, and to place my mynd else where: but mine endeuour and all my labour and resistance is employed in vayne: Yea and if it were not for feare of eternall damnation, and the losse of my poore afflicted soule (which God forbid) myne owne Handes before this time had ended my desires. I am therefore determined (sith that I can attaine no successe of Loue, and that God doth suffer me to be inspyred wyth that most honourable and curteous Lady, beyond all order and estimation) to content my selfe with the sight of those hir fayre and glistring eyes, farre excelling the sparcling glimpse of the Diamonde or Saphire, and to serue, loue and honour hir, so long as life doth last within this feeble corpes: Vpon whose radiant and excelling beautie, my hope shall continually feede: and yet I am not so far voyd of vnderstandinge, but that I do most euidently know none other to be the guide of thys vnmeasurable loue, but folly most extreme.” Vpon the end of those words he let fal many teares, and being staied with sobbs and sighes he was able to speake no more. And in very deede he that had seene him, would haue thought that his heart had bene tormented with most bitter and painfull passions. Now they being very attentiue to his pytifull oration, were attached with incredible sorrow, thinking that they had ben in a dreame by hearing of this discourse, and stode styll a while one loking vpon an other, without speaking word: Afterwards comming to themselues, distraughte almost, for the greate admiration and wonder to heare him speake those words, mayster Girolamo and Baldo, with suasible arguments went about to counsell him to withdraw his fonde and foolysh mind, praying him to place the same elsewhere, shewing him the impossibility of hys enterpryse, and the great peril that might succeede thereof. But they spake to a man that seemed to be deaf, who replied, that hee neither coulde or would giue ouer his loue, that had already made so depe impression, what so euer came of it: Notwythstandyng they ceased not still with sharp admonitions to beate into his head, the fonde begynning of his foolish loue: and not onely at that tyme, but continually when they were together, they dyd theyr best by oft repetition of his vayne conceipt, to let him vnderstande his manyfest error: but theyr labour and friendly lessons were to no purpose: Wherefore mayster Borgo, determined to giue him ouer, and to attende what would succede therof. Mayster Philippo continuing hys pursute, neuer faylyng to be at church when he knew the Quenes to be ther, at length it chanced that they began to espy his loue, for that both of them did mark his order, gesture and demeanure, and did note his oft frequentation of the places where they continually haunted and his manner in placyng himselfe at the church directly ouer agaynst them, and his common vse in beholding and loking vpon their faces, iudgyng thereby that without doubt he was in loue with one of them, or at least with some Gentlewoman of their trayne whereof the two Queenes began to vse some talk, although not certain vpon whom his loue was bent. Neuerthelesse they wer desirous to know the troth, and expected oportunitie somtime to dissolue that doubt. In the meane while maister Philippo thought by gazing on theyr beauty, to remoue the fire that miserably did consume the suck and marow of his bones, seking comfort and relief for his afflicted heart, the more I say he sought for ease, the greater he felt his payn: And truely all they that feruently do loue, aspire to that, which otherwise they woulde eschue, by sight of them whome they do loue, not remembering that the more they doe contemplate the beloued beauty, the more increaseth desire, and with desire extreme and bitter smart. Maister Philippo then lost no occasion or time stil to behold Madame the Queene, were it in the church or courte, or were she disposed for disport and recreation to walke abrode. It chaunced now while things wer at this poynt, the ladies very desirous to know vpon whom maister Philippo did expend his loue, that fortune opened vnto them a meane to vnderstand the same: It was then about that time of the yere, wherein al floures and roses were by Titans force constrained to adorne and decke ech gardens and place of pleasure, and with their fragrant smells and odors, to sent the same in the moneth of May: it was when the Twinnes were dysposed to shroud themselues amongs the hawthorn boughs and honysuckles that yeld to euery wyght greatest store of delyghts, at what time roses and other floures at theyr first budding be very rare and scant, sauing in Kings Courtes and prynces Palaces, where sutch rarieties by art and industrie be most abundant, and all men haue delight to present sutch nouelties to the pryncipall ladies. Vpon a day Queene Anne had in hir hands certayne floures in due order couched in a Nosegay, and for hir disport walked vp and down a very fayre and gorgeous garden, in the company of Queene Mary, and other Ladies and gentlewomen, about that tyme of the day the Sun wearie of trauaile, went to hide him self in the back side of the western mountains, wher amongs other of the Courte was maister Philippo. Queene Anne when she had espyed him, determined to make proufe with what Lady amongs them all, mayster Philippo was in loue, and sporting hir self with softe and prety walkes vp and downe the garden, pleasantly iesting with diuerse there attendant, (as the maner is of like Ladies) with trimme and pleasant talk, at length happed vpon maister Philippo, who although he was in communication with certain Italian Gentlemen, neuerthelesse his mynde and eyes were fixed vpon the Queene, that whensoeuer she appeared before him his eyes and face were so firmelye bent vppon hir, as the beholder might easily perceiue, that the Vysage of the Quene was the vndoubted harborough of his thought. Philippo, seeing the Queene come toward him, did honor hir wyth gentle and dutifull reuerence, in sutch humble wise, as hee seemed at hir hands pitifully to craue mercy. And truely whosoeuer doth loue with secret and perfect heart, seemeth to vtter more words to his Lady with his eies, than he is able to speak wyth his tongue. The Queene being come vnto him with a grace right graue and demure, sayd vnto him: “You Gentleman of Lombardie, yf these floures which we haue in our hands were giuen vnto you liberally to vse at your pleasure, and requyred to make some curteous present of the same to one of vs the ladies here that liked you best, tell mee I pray you, to whether of vs would you giue the same, or what would you do or say? Speake frankely we pray you, and tell youre mynde wythout respect: for thereby you shall doe to vs very great pleasure, and we shal know to whether of vs you beare your chiefest loue. For it is not to be supposed, that you being a young man, can spende your time without loue, being a naturall quality in euery creature.” When mayster Philippo felt the swete voyce of the Queene pleasantly to pierce his eares, and hearde that he was commaunded for the loue of hir that he loued, not onely to tell whome he loued best and most intierly, but also hir whom he worshipped and serued in heart, was almost besides hymselfe, sutch was the ticklyng ioylitie that he felt in hys heart, whose face was taynted wyth a thousand colors and what for superfluous loue and ioy, wherof the like he neuer tasted before, fell into an extasie, not able to render answere. But when he had recouered stomack, so well as he coulde with soft and trembling voice, he answered the Queene in this wise: “Sith your maiesty (to whom I yelde myne humble thanks for that curtesie) hath vouchsafed to commaund me (besides the infinite pleasure and honour, for which eternally I shal stande bound to your highnesse) I am ready sincerely and truely to dysclose my mind, being promised by your maiesty in opening of the same, to deserue great thanks: Wherfore your pleasure being such I do say then, with all due reuerence, that not onely here at thys tyme, but at al times and places wher it shal please god to appoint me, being not able to bestow them in other sort than they be, but wer they more precious and fayre, the more ioyfull I should bee of them. These floures I say shall of me right humbly be presented to your maiesty, not bicause you be a Queene and of a royal Race (whych notwythstandinge is a great vertue) but bicause you bee a Phœnix, a rare Lady, and of all the troupe the fayrest, garnished with infinit gifts, and passinge vertues, for your merites worthy to be honoured wyth farr more excellent gifts, than these simple floures be, as she that (aboue all other Ladyes that liue at this day) is the honour and onely glory of all womanhoode of our age, as shee that is the Paragon peerelesse of the vniuersal worlde.” when he had sayd those words, he held his peace. The Queene with great delight hearing the ready aunswere of the yong Gentleman, sayd vnto hym: “And we do giue you thanks for the great honor and commendation done vnto vs.” When she had sayd so, without further talke, she went forth vsing pleasant talke and sport with diuers that wayted vpon hir. Queene Anne now vnderstode, and so likewise Queene Mary, which of them the yong Lumbard Gentleman did accept for his soueraign Lady, whose loue she disdayned not, but in her mynde rather commended, esteeming him better than euer she did before: and lyke a discreet and wyse Lady gaue him infinite prayse. She did not now as other women wont to do, who when they see themselues of birth more noble, or of degree more ample than their louers be (whych gift they receyue through the fauor of the heauens) do not only despise them, but mock them, and their faythfull seruice, and many tymes with fayned countenance and dissembled words do extol them and set them vp aloft, and by and by almost with one breath, exchanging their fayned prayse into rebuke, they thrust them downe headlong from the tipe of hope and comfort, to the bottomlesse pit of despayre: and the fuller she is of floutes, the finer Girle esteemed. But farre better is she to be regarded, that not findinge in hir hart to loue hir suter, will frankly tell him at the first, that she cannot like hym, nor fashion hir mynde to loue him, and requiring him not to feede his minde with vayne hope, or contriue the tyme with words and lookes, and pray him to seeke some other that can better fansy his person than she: And although perchance a man do very feruently loue a woman, and that it wer great sorrow and grief vnto him to bee cast of, and receiue such refusall, yet in myne opinion it were lesse griefe openly to receiue that repulse, than to be fawned vppon, and flattered with fained talke, and for the time choaked with the baite of vaine hope, and afterwards become ridiculous, and gired by the scorneful. I am assured, that the woman which giueth hir seruant sutch repulse, shall bee counted mutch more cruell, than Maistresse Helena was to the scholler of Paris, after he was returned from the vniuersitie to Florence, written by Boccaccio in his Decamerone, and hereafter in place described. But let vs retourne to maister Philippo, who although hee coulde not imagine ne conceiue the intent, wherfore Queene Anne made that demaund, yet the same was very deare and acceptable vnto him, vppon the which he neuer thought, but felt great contentation in his mynd, and was more iocund and pleasant than he was wont to be before. On the other side the Queene, which was very discrete and wise, when she saw maister Philippo at the church or other place to make obeysance vnto hir very curteously requited the same, bowing hir head to him agayn, (which she neuer vsed but to Barons and Knights of great reputation) declaryng thereby how wel in worth she regarded his reuerence made vnto hir: Whereat he receiued maruellous pleasure and delight, hoping for none other recompence at hir handes, than continuance of sutch curtesies and honourable entertaynment. Amongs certayne Italians that were vppon a Day assembled in the presence chamber of Queene Anne, waiting there vpon Madonna Barbara the wyfe of Maister Pietro Martire Stampa, who wyth hir two daughters were gone to salute the two Queenes that were that time together: There was also maister Philippo, with whom Borgo and Baldo reasoned of diuerse matters: And as they wer in talke, both the Queenes came forth, which was the occasion, that al the lords and Gentlemen attended, vppon whose approch, ech man rose vp, and bareheaded expected whither the Queenes would goe. Quene Anne perceyuing a company of Italians together, left Queene Marie, and went streight to them, and very gently inquyred of dyuerse of the Gentlemen, their names, and of what partes of Italy they were, then she came to the place where they III. were standing together, and curteously asked first maister Girolamo, what his name was, of what countrey, whether he were a Gentleman? To whom reuerently he said: “that his name was Girolamo Borgo, a Gentleman of Verona.” Mayster Baldo likewise being demaunded the same, answered so well as he coulde: “that he was a Gentleman borne, of an auncient house in Milane, and that his name was Philippo Baldo.” When she had receiued theyr answere with cheereful and smiling countenance she returned to maister Philippo, inquyryng of him also his name and countrey, and whether he were a Gentleman or not? Whom maister Philippo after his duety done reuerently answered: “Madame, my souerain Lady and only mistresse, I am a Gentleman, and am called by the name of Philippo dei Nicuoli, of Cremona.” The Queene making no further demaundes of any of the other Gentlemen, sayd to Mayster Philippo: “You say true sir, I dare warrant you to be a Gentleman in deede, and hee that sayd the contrary, should declare himself to be voyd of Iudgement what a Gentleman is.” She sayde no more, but from thence with Queene Mary and the whole trayne she went to Church. All they that hard the Queene speake those words, dyd wonder, and could not deuise what shee meant by them, notwithstanding ech man thought that the Queene bare to maister Philippo singuler good will and fauour. He (as it was his custome) full of diuerse cogitations, whose head was building of great cities, went to church, bestowing himselfe in his wonted place, reuoluing in hys mind the Queene’s words spoken vnto him. And although he could not perceiue to what end that honorable lady had spoken them, yet hee thought that hir maiesty had done him great honour. And verily the humanity and curtesy of a Lady, so excellent and noble is worthy to be extolled with infinite prayses, who being of high estate and lineage, and the wife of a Prince that proceded of the stirpe Imperial, not only did not disdaine to be beloued of a man of so base degree, and banished from his own Country, but also with great care and diligence did deuise, and in effect declare that she was the same whome the Italian yong gentleman did loue as partly it was euidently to bee perceiued, not for other purpose doubtlesse, but to do some Noble deede couenable for the greatnesse of hir estate, and incident to the feruent loue of the amorous yong Gentleman, which afterwardes in very dede she accomplyshed. But howe many be there in these dayes, I doe not speake of Queenes and Pryncesses, but of simple and priuate Gentlewomen, that beyng of meane worship, indued with some shew of beautie, be without good conditions and vertue, who seeyng themselues beloued of some Gentlemen, not so enriched with the goods of Fortune as they be, do scorne and mocke them, thynking themselues to good to be loked vpon, or to be once moued of vertuous loue, scornfully casting their face at one side, as though the suters were vnworthy their company? Howe many likewyse be possessed and ouerwhelmed with pryde by reason Nature more propicious vnto them then other, be descended of some great parentage, that will accompt a great iniurie done vnto them, if any gentleman except he be rych, do make sute to loue them? Again a great number of women (I speake of them whose minds do not so mutch aspire to fame or honour as they seeke their delights and brauerie to be mainteined) bee of this trampe, that they care not whether theyr louers bee discrete, well condicioned, vertuous and gentle, so that theyr pursses be full of money, or theyr shapes amiable, not waying the valour and good conditions of the minde, ne yet a thousand other qualities that ought to garnish a Gentleman, whereby all vertuous Gentlemen dayly do growe beautiful, and be enriched wyth greater perfections. Some there be that fixe their minds vpon those, that be of goodly personage, although void of good behauiour, louing rather a piece of flesh with two eyes, than an honest man well furnished with vertue. Thynk not yet for all thys, that herein men ordinarily bee more wyse than women, althoughe they ought to bee accomplished with greater witte: but to say the truth, they all be spotted with one kind of pitch, that warfare here in the large campe of this present worlde: whereof it commeth to passe, that light loue as we see to beare no good foundation, and to haue no longe continuance, euen so the end and conclusion to consume like the beauty of the floure. And therupon many times it chaunceth, that when loue is not grounded but vpon transitorie beauty, which doth dissolue like a windy cloude, the little heat thereof doth not wax more hote, but rather congealeth to frost, and many times conuerteth into hatred and mischiefe most cruel. A worse thing yet than this is in common practise: There be many that wyll needes bee counted and called gentlemen, bycause they come of Auncient and Noble race, and being growen vp to man’s state, doe appeare in shapes of men, but are altogether without approued manners, vtterly ignorant what the nature of Gentle is, accomptyng themselues to be ioly fellowes, when in company of other as bigge beastes as them selues, they contriue theyr time and make their bragges, vaunting that Sutch a woman is at my commaundment, and sutch a man’s wyfe I do keepe, sutch a one is my companion’s friende: whereby they bryng many women, yea and of the best sort, into slaunder and infamie. Diuerse Gentlewomen also bee so fond, and of so simple discretion, that although they know and clearely perceyue thys to be true, yet allured with the personages and beauty of sutch Roisters, passe not to giue the rayne to these vnbridled Iades, not foreseeing (lyke ignorant Woodcockes) that in fewe dayes through their own temeritie, they incur the common shame of the vulgar people, being pointed at in the streates as they goe: where sutch as be wyse and discrete, doe dayly feare the least suspition that may be conceiued. There is no woman that is wyse, but so neare as she can, wil shunne and auoyde all occasion whereby slaunder may aryse, and will chose vnto hit amongs a number, sutch one as can best please hit fansie, and as with whome for hys vertue and honesty she purposeth to match hir selfe in maryage, which is the final ende of all honest loue. Howe be it Nature hath not framed euery creature of one metall, ne yet Minerua infused lyke brayne into euery head. And truely this our age dothe breede many fayre and worthie Women, whose condicions bee good and honest, adorned with comely qualities, the Generositie, stoutnesse and Valoure of whose myndes doe deserue syngular prayse and estymatyon. And what is hee, chauncynge vppon a curteous and Vertuous Dame, that wyll not gyue ouer the Loue of all other, to honour and loue hir for euer? But wee haue digressed too long from our Hystorye, and therefore, retourning to the same agayne, I say, that Fortune the guide of maister Philippo, was fully determined to bestow hir fauor vpon him: For besides that the Queene dearely estemed his loue, it seemed that all thyngs wer vnyted and agreed to sort his enterpryse to happy successe. The Queene had to her Gouernesse Madonna Paola dei Cauali, a Gentlewoman of Verona, very auncient and graue (aduaunced to the callyng, by Madonna Bianca Maria Sforza the wyfe of the Emperour Maximilian) whom Queene Anne requyred dylygently to procure for hir, sutch Rithmes in the Thuscane language and other Italian workes, as were to be found, bicause hir dysposition was to be conuersant and familiar in that tongue, and employed great diligence to learne and exercise the same, wherein shee attained sutch perfection, as all Italians coulde very well vnderstande her. Now (as the good lucke of mayster Philippo woulde haue it) he that day went to the Courte alone, continuallye deuisinge if it were possible, at al tymes to be in presence of the Quene: Whome so soone as Madonna Paola espyed, bicause she familiarly knew him went vnto him, and sayd: “My welbeloued friend maister Philippo, bicause the Queene hath great delight to learn our tongue, and therein already hath some towardnesse, as by hir common speakying of the same you may perceyue, this mornyng at hir vprising shee gaue me a great charge to procure for hir, certayne Italian Rithmes, who besides those bookes in that tongue already prynted, gladly desireth to see some trymme deuises of diuerse learned men that make in oure Daies. specially hir mind is earnestlye disposed vpon Rithmes cunningly composed, whereof I thinke you haue some store by reason of your delight in that exercise: Wherefore I thought good to repayre vnto you, and doe heartily pray you, to make hir Maiesty pertaker of sutch as you haue, wherein you shal do hir great and grateful seruice, and I shal remain continually bound vnto you: besides that I doe purpose when I present them vnto hir, to make hit priuie that I receyued them at your hands, which bicause of the loue shee beareth to our Natyon, she wyl fauorably accept, and the same no doubte when opportunitye serueth, liberally reward.” Maister Philippo in curteous wise thanked the gentlewoman, and said, that he was sorry he was not able better to satisefie hir request, bicause in that countrey he had small store of sutch desired things, neuerthelesse he would make diligent search, to get so many as were possible to be found, either amongs the Gentlemen that folowed the Court, or else where they were to be gotten. In the meane time, he sayd, that he would deliuer those few hee had, and bring them vnto hir that night, praying hir to commend hym to the good grace, and fauour of hir maiesty. And so he tooke hys leaue, and went strayght to hys Lodging, where diligently he began to search among his writings (the gladdest man in the Worlde for that occasion offered) and founde amonges the same diuers rithmes which hee thought vnworthy to passe into the handes of so great a Lady, sauing the third Rithme or Chapter, as we commonly call it, made by a notable Doctor of the lawes, and excellent Poet called M. Niccolo Amanio, of Crema, who no doubt for making of vulgar rithmes, thereby expressing the amorous affections of Louers, was in our time without comparison. And bicause the same was so apt for the purpose of mayster Philippo his loue, as could be desired, he wrote the same fayre (being in deede a very fayre sheete of Paper,) which soundeth to this effect.
Quanto piu cresce (Amor) Paspro tormento, &c.
The more (O Loue) thy bitter pangs augment,
Melting by times my sad accensed spreete,