More than the winde? that spreades abroade in deede,
My words and works, shall both in one agree,
To pleasure hir, whose Seruaunt would I bee.
The subtill Dames receiuing those amorous letters and song, disdanfully at the first seemed to take them at the bringers hands, as they had determined, yet afterwardes they shewed better countenaunce. These letters were tossed from one to an other, whereat they made great pastime, and thought that the same would come to very good successe, eyther of theym keepinge styll their Husbande’s Letter, and agreed without iniury done one to an other trimly to deceyue their husbands. The maner how you shall perceyue anone. They deuised to send word to their Louers, that they were ready at al times to satisfie their sutes, if the same might be secretly done, and safely might make repayre vnto their houses, when their Husbands were absent, which in any wise they sayde, must be done in the night, for feare least in the day tyme they were discried. Agayne these prouident and subtill Women had taken order wyth their Maydes, whom they made priuy to their practyse that through their Gardens they should enter into other’s house, and bee shut in their Chambers without Lyght, there to tary for their Husbands, and by any meanes not to bee seene or knowne. This order prescribed and giuen, Mistresse Lucia first did hir louer to vnderstand, that the night insuing at foure of the Clock at the Posterne dore, which should be left open, he should come into hir house, where hir mayde should be ready to bring him vp to hir Chaumbre, because hir husband Maister Girolamo woulde that Night imbarke himselfe to goe to Padua. The like Mistresse Isotta did to Maister Girolamo, appointing him at fiue of the clock, whych she sayd was a very conuenient time, bicause mayster Anselmo that night would sup and lye with certayne of his Fryends at Murano, a place besides Venice. Vpon these newes, the 2 Louers thought them selues the most valiaunt and fortunate of the World, no Enterprise now there was but seemed easie for them to bring to passe, yea if it were to expell the Saracens out of Hierusalem, or to depriue the great Turke of his Kingdome of Constantinople. Their ioy was sutch, as they coulde not tell where they were, thinking euery houre a whole day till night. At length the tyme was come so long desired, and the Husbandes accordingly gaue diligent attendaunce, and let their Wyues to vnderstande, (or at least wyse beleeued they had) that they could not come home that night for matters of great importaunce. The Women that were very wise, seeing their ship sayle wyth so prosperous wynde, fayned themselues to credite all that they offered. These young men tooke eyther of them his Gondola (or as we tearm it theyr Barge) to disport themselues, and hauing supped abroade, rowed in the Canali, which is the Water that passeth through diuers Streates of the Citty, expecting their appoyncted houre. The Women ready at three of the Clocke, repayred into their Gardens, and after they had Talked, and Laughed together a prety whyle, went one into an other’s house, and were by the maydes brought vp to the Chaumbers. There eyther of them the Candle being light, began diligently to view the order and situation of the Place, and by little and little marked the chiefest things they looked for, committing the same to memory. Afterwards they put out the Candle, and both in trembling maner expected the comming of their Husbandes. And iust at four of the Clocke the Mayden of Madonna Lucia stoode at the dore to wayte for the comminge of Maister Anselmo, who within a while after came, and gladly was let in by the mayde, and by hir conducted vp to hir Bed side. The place there, was so dark as Hel, and impossible for him to know his Wyfe. The two Wyues were so like of bignesse and Speach as by darke wythout great difficulty they could be known: when Anselmo had put of his clothes, he was of his Wyfe amorously intertayned, thinking the Wyfe of Girolamo had receyued him betwene hir armes, who aboue a Thousande times kissed hir very sweetely, and she for hir parte sweetely rendred agayne to hym so many: what followed it were Folly to describe. Girolamo lykewise at 5 of the clocke appeared, and was by the mayde conueied vp to the Chamber, where he lay with his own Wife, to their great contentations. Now these 2 husbands thinking they had ben imbraced by their beloued Ladies, to seeme braue, and valiaunt men of Warre, made greater proofe of their Manhoode, than they were wont to do. At what time their Wyues (as it pleased God to manifest by their deliuery) were begotten with child of 2 fayre Sons, and they the best contented Women of the World. This practise continued betwene them many times, fewe weekes passing but in this sort they lay together. Neither of them for all this perceiued themselues to be deluded, or conceyued any suspition of collusion for that the chamber was still without light, and in the day the Women commonly fayled not to be together. The time was not longe but their Bellies began to swell, whereat their Husbandes were exceeding ioyfull, beleeuing verily that eyther of them had fixed Hornes vpon the other’s head. Howbeit the poore men for all their false Beliefe had bestowed theyr Laboure vppon their owne Soyle, watred onely with the course of their proper Fountayne. These two Iolly Wenches seeyng themselues by thys amorous practize to be with Childe, beganne to deuise howe they might break of the same, douting least some slaunder and ill talke should rise: and thereby the hatred and malice betwene theyr husbandes increase to greater fury. And as they were aboute thys deuise, an occasion chaunced vtterly to dissolue theyr accustomed meetynges, but not in that sorte as they woulde haue had it. For the Women determined as merily they had begon so iocundlye to ende: but Fortune the guide of Humane Lyfe, disposeth all enterpryses after hir owne pleasure, who lyke a puissant Lady caryeth with hir the successe of eche attempte. The beginning she offereth freely to him that list, the Ende she calleth for, as a ransome or trybute payable vnto hir. In the same streate, or as they call it Rio, and Canale, not farre from theyr Houses, there dwelled a young Woman very fayre and comely, not fully twenty yeares of age, which then was a Widow, and a lyttle before the wife of M. Niccolo Delphino, and the Daughter of M. Giuoanni Moro, called Gismonda: she besides hir Father’s Dowrye (which was more than a Thousand Pound) had left hir by hir Husband, a great Porcyon of Money, Iewels, Plate, and houshold Furnitures. Wyth hir fell in Loue Aloisio Foscari, the Nephewe of the Duke, who making greate sute to haue hir to Wyfe, consumed the time in beholding his Ladye, and at length had brought the matter to so good passe, as one Nighte she was contented, at one of the Wyndowes of hir House directly ouer agaynste a little lane, to heare him speake. Aloisio maruellous glad of those desired Newes, at the appoynted Nyght, about fyue or sixe of the Clocke, with a Ladder made of Roapes (bicause the Window was very high) went thyther alone. Beyng at the place and making a signe concluded vppon betweene them, attended when the gentlewoman should throw down hir cord to draw vp the Ladder accordingly as was appointed, which not longe after was done. Gismonda when shee had receiued the ende of the Ladder, tied it fast to the iawme of the wyndow, and gaue a token to hir Louer to mount. He by force of loue being very venturous, liuely and lustely scaled the Wyndow: and when he was vppon the Top of the same, desirous to caste himselfe in, to embrace his Lady, and shee not readye to receiue him, or else vppon other occasion, he fel downe backewarde, thinking as he fell to haue saued himselfe twice or thryce by catchyng holde vppon the Ladder, but it would not be. Notwithstanding, as God would haue it, the poise of his Body fell not vppon the pauement of the streate fully, but was stayed by some lets in the fall, whych had it not bene so, no doubt he had bene slayne out of hande, but yet his bones were sore brused and his heade deepely wounded. The infortunate Louer seeing himselfe sore hurt wyth that pityfull fall, albeyt hee thought that hee had receiued his Death’s Wounde, and impossyble to liue any longer, yet the loue that he bare to the Widow, did so far surmount hys payne and the gryefe of hys Body sore crushed and broken, that so well as he could, hee rose vp, and with his hands stayed the Bloud that ranne from hys Heade, to the intente yt myghte not rayse some slaunder vppon the Widow whom hee loued so wel: and went alonges the streate towarde the houses of Girolamo and Anselmo aforesaid. Being come thither wyth greate difficulty not able to goe anye further for verye payne and gryefe, hee faynted and fell downe as deade, where the Bloude issued in sutch aboundaunce, as the Grounde therewyth was greatly imbrued, and euery one that saw him thought him to be voide of Lyfe. Mistresse Gismonda exceeding sorrowful for this mischaunce, doubted that he had broken his Necke, but when she saw hym depart, she comforted him so well as she could, and drewe vp the Ladder into hir Chamber. Sutch Chaunces happen to earnest Louers, who when they think they haue scaled the top of theyr Felicity, sodaynly tomble downe into the Pit of extreme despayre, that better it had ben for them leysurely to expect the grace of their Ladyes at conuenient place and houre, than hardily without prouidence to aduenture lyke desperat souldiers to clym the top of the vamure, without measurying the height of the Wals, or viewynge the substaunce of theyr Ladders, do receyue in the ende cruell repulse, and fal down headlonge either by present Death or mortall Wounde, to receyue euerlastyng reproche and shame. But turne we agayne now to this disgraced Louer, who lay gasping betwene Lyfe and Death. And as he was in this sorrowful state, one of the Captaynes, a Noble man appointed to see orders obserued in the Nighte, wyth hys bande (which they call Zaffi) came thither: and finding hym lying vpon the ground, knew that it was Aloisio Foscari, and causing him to be taken vp from the place wher he lay, (thinking he had ben dead) commanded that he should be conueyed into the Church adioyning whych immediately was done. And when he had wel considered the place where hee was founde, hee doubted that eyther Girolamo Bembo or Anselmo Barbadico, before whose Dores hee thought the murder committed, had kylled him, which afterwards he beleued to be true, bycause he heard a certayne noyse of mennes Feete at one of their Doores: wherefore he deuided his company, placyng some on the one side of their houses, and some on the other, besieging the same so well as he coulde. And as Fortune woulde he founde by Neglygence of the mayds, the dores of the II. houses open. It chaunced also that Nyght that the two Louers one in other’s House were gone to lye with their Ladyes, who hearynge the hurly burly, and sturre made in the house by the Sergeants, sodaynely the Women lept out of their Beds, and bearyng their apparell vppon theyr shoulders, went home to their houses throughe their Gardeins vnseene of any, and in fearefull wyse did attende what should be the End of the same. Girolamo, and Anselmo not knowing what rumor and noise that was, although they made hast in the Darke to cloth themselues, were by the Offycers without any field fought, apprehended in ech other’s Chamber, and remained Prysoners at theyr mercy: whereat the Captayne and hys Band did greatly maruell, knowyng the Hatred betweene them. But when Torches and Lyghts were brought, and the two Gentlemen caried out of Doores, the wonder was the greater for that they perceyued them almoste Naked, and prysoners taken in eche other’s House. And besydes thys admiratyon, sutch murmur and slaunder was bruted, as the quality of euerye Vulgar Heade coulde secretlye deuyse or Imagyne, but specyally of the innocente Women, who howe faultlesse they were, euery Man by what is sayde before maye conceyue, and yet the cancred Stomackes of that Troupe bare sutch Malyce agaynste them, as they iarred and brawled agaynst them lyke curryshe Curres at straunge Dogges whom they neuer sawe before. The Gentlemen immediately were caried to pryson, ignorant vppon what occasion: afterwards vnderstandinge that they were committed for the murder of Aloisio Foscari, and imprysoned like theeues, albeit they knew themselues guiltlesse of murder or Theft, yet their gryef and sorrowe was very greate, beynge certayne that all Venice should vnderstande howe they betweene whome had ben mortall hatred, were nowe become copartners of that whych none but the true possessours ought to enioy: and althoughe they coulde not abyde to speake together, lyke those that deadely dyd hate one another, yet both theyr myndes were fyxed vppon one thought. In the ende, conceyuing Fury and despite agaynste theyr Wyues, the place being so darke that no Lyght or Sunne coulde pierce into the same, whereby wythout shame or disdayne one of them began to speake to another, and with terrible Othes they gaue theyr fayth to disclose the troth in what sort eyther of them was taken in other’s Chamber, and frankely told the way and meane howe eche of them enioyed hys Pleasure of other’s Wyfe: whereupon the whole matter (according to their knowledge) was altogether by little and little manifest and knowne. Then they accompted theyr Wiues to be the most arrant strumpets within the whole City, by dispraysing of whom theyr olde rancor was forgotten, and they agreed together like two Fryends, who thought that for shame they should neuer be able to looke Men in the face, ne yet to shew themselues openlye within the Citye, for sorrow whereof they deemed Death the greatest good turne and best Benefit that could chance vnto them. To be short, seeing no meanes or occasion to comfort and relieue theyr pensyue and heauy states, they fell into extreeme despayre, who ashamed to lyue any longer, deuised way to rid them selues of Lyfe, concludyng to make themselues guilty of the murder of Aloiso Foscari: and after mutch talke betweene them of that cruell determination, styll approuing the same to be theyr best refuge, they expected nothyng else, but when they should be examined before the Magistrates. Foscari as is before declared was carryed into the Churche for Deade, and the Pryest straightly charged wyth the keepynge of hym, who caused hym to be conueyed into the myddes of the Church, setting II. Torches a Light, the one at his heade, and the other at his feete, and when the Company was gone, he determined to goe to bed the remnant of the Nyght to take his rest: but before he went, seeing the Torches were but short, and could not last paste two or three houres, he lighted two other, and set them in the others place, for that it should seeme to his frends, if any chaunced to come what care and worship he bestowed vpon him. The Priest ready to depart, perceiued the Body somewhat to moue, with that looking vppon his Face, espyed his eyes a little to begin to open. Wherewithall somewhat afraide, he crying out, ran awaye: notwithstanding his Courage began to come to him again, and laying his hand vpon his breast, perceiued his heart to beate, and then twas out of doubt that he was not dead, although by reason of losse of his bloud he thought little life to remaine in him: wherefore he with one of his fellow priests which was a bed, and the Clerck of the Parish, caried maister Foscari so tenderly as they could into the Priests Chamber, which adioined next the Church. Then he sente for a surgeon that dwelt hard by, and required him diligently to search the Wounde, who so well as he could purged the same from the corrupt Bloud, and perceiuyng it not to be mortall, so dressed it wyth Oyles and other precious ointments, as Aloisio came agayn to hymselfe: and when he had anoynted that recouered body wyth certayne Precious and comfortable Oyles, he suffred him to take his rest: the Priest also went to bed and slepte till it was Daye, who so soone as he was vp, went to seeke the Captayne to tel him that Maister Aloisio was recouered. The Captaine at that tyme was gone to the pallace at San. Marco, to giue the Duke aduertisement of thys Chaunce, after whom the Priest went and was let in to the Duke’s Chamber: to whom he declared what he had done to Aloisio. The Duke very glad to heare tell of his Nephewe’s lyfe, although then very pensiue for the newes broughte vnto him by the Captayne, intreated one of the Signor de notte, to take with him two of the best surgions, and to call him that had already dressed his Nephew, to goe to visite the wounded Gentleman, that hee might be certified of the truth of that Chaunce. All which together repaired to the Pryeste’s Chaumber, where fyndinge hym not a sleepe, and the Wounde fayre inoughe to heale, dyd therevnto what their cunning thoughte meete: and then they began to inquire of hym, that was not yet full recouered to perfecte speache, howe that chaunce happened, telling hym that he might frankelye confesse vnto them the trouthe. The more dilygent they were in this demaunde, bicause the Surgeon that dressed him fyrst, alleaged, that the Wounde was not made with Sworde, but receiued by some greate fall or blowe with Mace or Clubbe, or rather seemed to come of some high fall from a Wyndowe, by reason his Head was so gryevously brused. Aloisio hearynge the Surgeons sodayne demaunde, presentlye aunswered, that he fell downe from a Wyndowe, and named also the House. And he had no sooner spoken those Woordes, but he was very angry wyth him selfe and sorrye: and wherewithall his dismayde Spyrites began to reuyue in sutch wyse, as sodainlye he choyse rather to dye than to speake any thynge to the dyshonoure of mystresse Gismonda. Then the Signior di notte, asked hym what he dyd there aboute that Tyme of the Nyght, and wherfore hee dyd clymb vp to the Wyndowe, beynge so hyghe: whych hee coulde not keepe secrete, consyderyng the Authorytye of the Magystrate that demaunded the questyon, albeyt hee thoughte that yf his Tongue hadde runne at large, and commytted a Faulte by rashe speakynge, hys Bodye should therefore suffer the smart: wherefore before hee woulde in any wyse gyue occasion to slaunder hir, whome hee loued better than hys owne Lyfe, determined to hazarde hys Lyfe and Honoure, to the mercye of Iustice, and sayde: “I declared euen nowe, whych I cannot denye, that I fell downe from the wyndowe of Mystresse Gismonda Mora. The cause thereof (beeynge now at state, wherein I knowe not whether I shall Lyue or Dye) I will truelye dysclose: Mystresse Gismonda beynge a Wydowe and a younge Woman, wythoute anye Man in hir House, bycause by reporte shee is very rych of Iewels and Money, I purposed to robbe and dyspoyle: wherefore I deuysed a ladder to clymbe vp to hir Wyndowe, with Mynde full bent to kill all those that should resiste me: but my mishappe was sutch as the Ladder being not well fastened fell downe, and I my selfe therwithall, and thinking to recouer home to my lodging with my corded Ladder, my Spirites beganne to fayle, and tombled downe I wotte not where.” The Signor de notte, whose name was Domenico Mariperto hearing him say so, maruelled greatly, and was very sorie, that all they in the Chamber, which were a great number, (as at sutch chaunces commonly be) dyd heare those Woordes: and bicause they were spoken so openly, he was forced to saye vnto hym: “Aloisio, it doth not a little grieue me that thou hast committed sutch follye, but for so mutch as sorrowe now will not serue to remedye the Trespasse, I muste needes shew my selfe both faithfull to my countrey, and also carefull of mine honor, withoute respect of persons: wherefore thou shalte remaine here in sutch safe custody as I shal appoint, and when thou art better amended, thou must according to desert be referred to the Gaole.” Leauing him there vnder sure keeping, he went to the counsell of the Dieci, (which magistrates in that City be of greatest authority) and finding the Lords in Counsell, he opened the whole matter vnto them: the presidentes of the Counsell which had hearde a great numbre of complaynts of many Theftes don in the Nyght wythin the Citye, tooke order that one of the Captaynes that were appoynted to the dilygente Watche and keepyng of Aloisio, remayning in the Pryeste’s House, should cause him to be examined, and with tormentes forced to tell the truth, for that they did verely beleeue that hee had committed many Robberies besides, or at the least was priuy and accessarie to the same, and knew where the Theues were become. Afterwardes the sayd Counsell did sitte vppon the matter of Girolamo Bembo and Anselmo Barbadico, found at myde Night naked in eche other’s Chambre, and commytted to Pryson as is before remembred: and bicause they had many matters besides of greater importaunce, to consult vppon, amongs which the warres betwene them and Philippo Maria Visconte, Duke of Milane, the aforesayde causes were deferred tyll an other tyme, notwythstandyng in the meane while they were examyned. The Duke himselfe that tyme being in Counsell, spake most seuerely against his Nephew: neuerthelesse he did hardly beleeue that his Nephew being very rich, and indued with great honesty, would abase himselfe to a vice so vile and abhominable as theft is, wherevppon he began to consider of many thinges, and in the ende talked with hys Nephew secretly alone, and by that meanes learned the trouth of the whole matter. In like maner Anselmo and Girolamo were Examined by Commissioners appoyncted by the state, what one of them did in an other’s chamber, at that houre of the night, who confessed that many tymes they had seene Aloisio Foscari, to passe vp and down before their houses at times inconuenient, and that night by chaunce one of them not knowing of another, espied Aloisio, thinking that he lingered about their houses to abuse one of their Wyues, for which cause they went out, and with their Weapons sodenly killed him: which confession they openly declared accordingly, as whereupon before they were agreed. Afterwardes with further circumstaunce being examined vpon the Article of being one in another’s Chaumber, it appeared that their first tale was vtterly vntrue: of all which contradictions the Duke was aduertised, and was driuen into extreeme admiration, for that the truth of those disorders coulde not be to the full vnderstanded and knowne. Whereuppon the Dieci, and the assistauntes were agayne assembled in councell accordinge to the maner, at what time after all things throughly were debated and ended, the Duke being a very graue man, of excellent Witte, aduaunced to the Dukedome by the consent of the whole State, as euery of theym were about to rise vp, hee sayde vnto them: “My Lordes, there resteth one thinge yet to be moued, which peraduenture hitherto hath not bene thought vpon: there are before vs two complaynts, the effect whereof in my iudgement is not throughly conceyed in the Opinions of diuers. Anselmo Barbadico, and Girolamo Bembo, betwene whom there hath bene euer continuall hatred, left vnto them as a man may say euen by Fathers Inheritance both of them in eyther of their Chaumbers, were apprehended in a manner naked by our Sergeaunts, and without Torments, or for feare to bee racked vpon the onely interrogatories of oure ministers, they haue voluntarily confessed that before their houses they killed Aloisio our Nephew: and albeit that our sayde Nephew yet liueth, and was not striken by them or any other as should appeare, yet they confesse themselues guilty of murder. What shall be sayd then to the matter, doth it not seeme doubtfull? Our Nephew again hath declared, that in going about to rob the house of Mistresse Gismonda Mora, whom he ment to haue slayne, he fel downe to the Ground from the top of a window, wherefore by reason so many robberies haue bene discouered within the Citty, it may be presumed that hee was the theefe and malefactor, who ought to be put to the torments, that the truth may be knowne, and being found guilty, to feele the seuere punishment that he hath deserued. Moreouer when he was found lying vpon the ground, he had neither Ladder nor Weapon, whereupon may bee thought that the fact was otherwise done, than hitherto is confessed. And because amongs morall vertues, temperance is the chiefest and worthy of greatest commendation, and that iustice not righteously executed, is iniustice and wronge, it is meete and conuenient for vs in these straunge accidents, rather to vse temperaunce than the rigor of iustice: and that it may appeare that I do not speake these words without good grounde, marke what I shall saye vnto you. These two most mortall enimies doe confesse that which is impossible to be true, for that our Nephew (as is before declared) is a liue, and his wounde was not made by Sworde, as hee himselfe hath confessed. Now who can tell or say the contrary, but that shame for being taken in their seuerall Chambers, and the dishonesty of both their Wyues, hath caused them to despise life, and to desire death? we shall finde if the matter be diligently inquired and searched, that it will fall out otherwise than is already supposed by common opinion. For the contrariety of examinations, vnlikelihoode of circumstances, and the impossibility of the cause, rendreth the matter doubtfull: wherefore it is very needeful diligently to examine these attempts, and thereof to vse more aduised consideration. On the other side, our Nephew accuseth himselfe to be a theefe and which is more, that hee ment to kill Mistresse Mora when hee brake into hir house. Vnder this Grasse, my Lords, as I suppose, some other Serpent lieth hiden, that is not yet thought of. The Gentleman yee know before this time was neuer defamed of sutch outrage, ne suspected of the least offence that may be obiected: besides that, all yee doe know, (thanks therefore be geuen to almighty God) that he is a man of great richesse, and possessions, and hath no neede to rob: for what necessity should driue him to rob a widowe, that hath of his owne liberally to bestow vpon the succour of Widowes? Were there none els of substance in the Citty for him to geue attempt but to a Wyddowe, a comfortlesse creature, contented with quiet lyfe to lyue amonges hir family within the boundes of hir owne house? What if hir richesse, Iewels and plate be great, hath not Aloisio of his owne to redouble the same? but truly this Robbery was done after some other manner than hee hath confessed: to vs then my Lords it appertayneth, if it so stande with your pleasures, to make further inquiry of the same, promisinge vnto you vppon our Fayth, that wee shall imploy our whole diligence in the true examination of thys matter, and hope to bring the same to sutch good ende, as none shall haue cause to blame vs, the finall sentence whereof shall bee reserued to youre iudgement.” Thys graue request and wise talke of the Duke pleased greatly the Lordes of the Counsayle, who referred not onely the examination, but also the finall sentence vnto hym. Whereuppon the wyse Prynce beinge fully enformed of the chaunce happened to his Nephewe, attended onely to make search, if he could vnderstand the occasion why Bembo and Barbadico so foolishly had accused themselues of that which they neuer did. And so after mutch counsayle, and great tyme contriued in their seueral examinations, his Nephew then was well recouered, and able to goe abroade, being set at liberty. The Duke then hauinge bestowed hys trauayle with the other two prisoners, communicated to the Lords of the aforesayd councel called Dieci the whole trouth of the matter. Then he caused with great discretion, proclamation to be made throughout Venice, that Anselmo and Girolamo shold be beheded betwene the two Pyllers, and Aloisio hanged, whereby he thought to know what sute the women would make, eyther with or against their Husbandes, and what euidence mistresse Gismonda woulde geue against Aloisio. The brute hereof dispersed, diuers talke thereuppon was raysed, and no communication of any thing els in open streats, and priuate houses, but of the putting to death of those men. And bicause all three were of honorable houses, their kinsmen, and Friendes made sute by all possible meanes for theyr pardon. But their Confessions published, the rumor was made worse, (as it dayly chaunceth in like cases) than the matter was in deede, and the same was noysed how Foscari had confessed so many theftes done by him at diuers tymes, as none of his freends or Kin durst speake for him. Mistresse Gismonda which bitterly lamented the mischaunce of hir Louer, after she vnderstoode the confession hee had made, and euidently knew that because hee woulde not bleamish hir honour, he had rather willingly forgo his owne, and therewithall his lyfe, felt hir selfe so oppressed with feruent loue, as shee was ready presently to surrender hir ghost. Wherefore shee sent him woorde that he should comfort himselfe, because shee was determined to manifest the very trouth of the matter, and hoped vppon hir declaration of true euidence, sentence shoulde bee reuoked, for testimony whereof, shee had his louinge letters yet to shewe, written to hir with his owne handes, and would bring forth in the iudgement place, the corded ladder, which she had kept stil in her chamber. Aloisio hearinge these louing newes, and of the euidence which his Lady woulde giue for his defence, was the gladdest man of the worlde, and caused infinite thankes to be rendred vnto hir, wyth promise that if hee might bee rid and discharged out of prison, he woulde take hir for his louing spouse and wyfe. Whereof the gentlewoman conceyued singuler solace, louing hir deere freende with more entier affection than hir owne soule. Mistresse Lucia, and mistresse Isotta, hearing the dispercled voyce of the death of their husbands, and vnderstanding the case of mistresse Gismonda by an other woman, layd their heads together likwise to deuise meanes for sauing their husbandes liues: and entring into their Barge, or Gondola, wente to seeke mistresse Gismonda and when they had debated vppon the trouthe of these euents, concluded with one assent to prouide for the safegarde and deliuerye of theyr husbandes, wherein they shewed themselues both wise and honest. For what state is more honorable and of greater Comforte than the marryed Lyfe, if in deede they that haue yoaked themselues therein be conformable to those Delightes, and contentation which the same conduceth? Wealth and Riches maketh the true vnyted couple to reioyce in the Benefits of Fortune, graunted by the sender of the same, either of them prouiding for disposing thereof, against the decripite time of olde age, and for the bestowing of the same vppon the Fruicte accrued of theyr Bodies. Pouerty in any wise dothe not offend them, both of them glad to laboure and trauaile like one Body, to sustaine theyr poore and neady Lyfe, eyther of them Comfortably doth Minyster comforte in the cruell tyme of Aduersity, rendring humble thankes to God for hys sharp Rodde and Punyshment enflicted vppon them for their manyfolde sinnes commytted againste hys maiestye, trauailinge by night and Daye by sweatinge Browes to get browne Breade, and drynke ful thin to cease the Cryes and pytifull crauinges of their tender Babes, wrapt in Cradle and instant on their mother to fill their hungry mouthes. Aduerse fortune maketh not one to forsake the other. The louing Wyfe ceaseth not by paynfull sute to trot and go by Night and day in heate and colde to relieue the miserye of hir husband. He likewise spareth not his payne to get and gayne the liuyng of them both. He abrode and at home according to his called state, she at home to saue the Lucre of that Labor, and to doe sutch necessary trauayle incident to the married kinde. He carefull for to get, she heedeful for to saue, he by trafique and Arte, shee by diligence and housholde toile. O the happy state of married folke: O surpassing delights of mariage bed: which maketh these II. poore Gentlewomen, that by honorable pollicy saued the honor of themselues and honesty of theyr husbandes, to make humble sute for their preseruation, who were like to be berieued of their greatest comforts. But come we again to declare the last act of this Comical discourse. These maried Women, after this chaunce befell, vpon their husbandes imprysonment, began to be abhorred of their Friendes and Parentes, for that they were suspected to be dishoneste, by reason whereof dolefully lamenting their Misfortune, notwithstandynge their owne conscience voyde of faulte, dyd byd them to be of good cheere and comfort. And when the daye of execution came, they dyd theyr Friends and Parents to vnderstand that their conceiued opinyon was vntrue, and prayed them to forbeare their disdain and malice, till the truth should be throughly manifested, assuring them that in the End their owne innocencie and the guiltlesse cryme of their Husbands should openly be reuealed to the Worlde. In the meane time they made request vnto their Friendes, that one of the Lordes called Auogadori might be admitted to vnderstande their case, the rest to be referred to themselues, wherein they had no neede either of Proctor or Aduocate. This request seemed verye straunge to their friends, deeming their case to be shameful and abhominable: neuertheles diligently they accomplyshed their request and vnderstandyng that the Counsell of the Dieci had commytted the matter wholy to the Duke, they made a supplicatyon vnto hym in the name of the three Gentlewomen, wherein they craued nothing else but theyr matter might be hearde. The Duke perceiuying hys aduise like to take effect, assigned them a Day, commaundinge them at that tyme before hym and the Lords of the Councell and all the College of the estate to appeare. The Day being come, all the Lordes assembled, desirous to see to what issue this matter would grow. On the morning the three Gentlewomen honestly accompanied with other Dames, went to the Palace, and goynge along the streate of San Marco the people began to vtter many raylyng words against them: some cried out (as we see by vnstable order the vulgare people in like cases vse to do) and doinge a certain curtisy by way of disdain and mockery: “Behold the honest women, that without sending their husbands out of Venice, haue placed them in the Castell of Cornetto, and yet the arrante Whoores bee not ashamed to shewe them selues abrode, as thoughe they hadde done a thynge that were Honeste and prayse worthye.” Other shot forth theyr Boltes, and wyth theyr Prouerbes proceedyng from their malicious Mouthes thwited the pore Women at their pleasure. Other also seeyng Mystresse Gismonda in their Company, thought that she went to declame against maister Aloisio Foscari, and none of them all hapned on the trouth. Arryued at the pallace, ascending the marble staires or steps of the same, they were brought into the great hal, wher the Duke appointed the matter to be heard. Thither repaired the friends and those of nearest kin to the three Gentlewomen, and before the matter did begin, the Duke caused also the thre prisoners to be brought thither. Thither also came many other Gentlemen, with great desire to see the end of those euents. Silence being made the Duke turning his face to the women, sayd vnto them: “Ye Gentlewomen haue made requeste by supplycatyon to graunt you publike audyence accordyng to Iustice, for that you do alleage that Law and order doth so require, and that euery wel ordred common wealth condemneth no subiecte withoute due answere by order of lawe. Beholde therefore, that we desirous to do Iustice, bee ready in Place to heare what ye can say.” The two husbands were very angrie and wrathfull against their wiues, and the more their stomackes did fret with choler and disdayne, by how mutch they saw their impudente and shamelesse wiues wyth sutch audacity to appeare before the maiesty of a counsel so honourable and dreadfull, as though they had ben the most honeste and chast Women of the World. The two honeste wiues perceyued the anger and displeasure of their husbands, and for all that were not afrayde ne yet dismayde, but smyling to themselues and somewhat mouing their heads in decente wyse seemed vnto them as though they had mocked them. Anselmo more angry and impacient then Girolamo, brake out into sutch furie, as had it not ben for the maiesty of the place, and the Companye of People to haue stayed him, woulde haue kylled them: and seyng he was not able to hurt them, he began to vtter the vylest Woords, that he possibly could deuise agaynst them. Mistresse Isotta hearing hir husband so spytefully to spit forth his poyson in the presence of that honourable assemblye, conceiued courage, and crauinge licence of the Duke to speake, with merrye countenance and good vttrance began thus to say her mind: “Most excellent Prince, and yee right honourable Lordes, I doe perceyue how my deare husbande vncomely and very dishonestly doth vse himselfe agaynst me in this noble company, thincking also that mayster Girolamo Bembo is affected with like rage and minde agaynst this Gentlewoman mystresse Lucia hys wyfe, although more temperate in words, he do not expresse the same. Agaynst whom if no reply be made, it may seeme that he doth well and hath spoken a truth, and that we by silence do condemne our selues to be those most wicked women whom hee alleageth vs to be. Wherefore by your gratious pardon and licence (most honourable) in the behalfe of mistresse Lucia and my selfe, for our defence I purpose to declare the effect of my mynde, although my purpose be cleane altered from that I had thought to say, being now iustly prouoked by the vnkinde behauiour of him whom I loue better than my selfe, and whose disloyalty, had hee beene silent and not so rashly runne to the ouerthrow of me and my good name, coulde I haue concealed, and onely touched that which had concerned the Purgation and sauegard of them both, which was the onely intent and meaning of vs, by making our humble supplication to your Maiesties. Neuerthelesse, so farre as my feeble force shall stretch, I will assay to do both the one and the other, although it be not appropriate to our kinde in publike place to declayme, nor yet to open sutch bold attempts, but that necessity of matter and oportunity of time, and place dothe bolden vs to enter into these termes, whereof we craue a thousand pardons for our vnkindely dealings, and render double thanks to your honours, for admitting vs to speake. Be it knowne therefore vnto you, that our husbands agaynst duety of loue, lawes of mariage, and against all reason, do make their heauy complaynts, which by and by I will make playne and euident. I am right well assured, that their extreme rage and bitter hearts sorrow do proceede of 2 occasions: The one, of the murder whereof they haue falsely accused theymselues: the other of iealousie, which grieuously doth gnawe their hearts, thinking vs to be vile, and abhominable Women, because they were surprised in ech other’s Chaumber. Concerning the murder, if they haue soyled their handes therein, it appertayneth vnto you my Lords to render their desert. But how can the same be layd to our charge, for somutch as they (if it were done by them) committed the same without our knowledge, our help and counsel? And truly I see no cause why any of vs ought to be burdened with the outrage, and mutch lesse cause haue they to laye the same to our charge: for meete it is that he that doth any vnlawful act, or is accessary to the same, should suffer the due penalty and seuere chastisement accordingly as the sacred lawes do prescribe, to be an example for other to abstayne from wicked facts. But hereof what neede I to dispute, wherein the blind may see to bee none offence, because (thankes bee to God) Mayster Aloisio liueth, which declareth the fonde Confession of our vngentil husbandes to bee contrary to trouth? And if so be our husbands in deede had done sutch an abhominable enterprise, reason and duety had moued vs to sorrowe and lament them, because they be borne of noble bloud, and be gentlemen of this noble Citty, which like a pure virgin inuiolably doth conserue hir lawes and customes. Great cause I say, had we to lament them, if lyke homicides, and murderers they had spotted their bloud with sutch fowle bleamish thereby deseruing death, to leaue vs yong Women Widowes in wofull plight. Nowe it behoueth me to speake of the Iealousie they haue conceyued of vs, for that they were in ech other’s Chamber, which truly is the doubtfull knot and scruple that forceth all their disdaine and griefe. This I knowe well is the Nayle that pierceth their heart: other cause of offence they haue not: who like men not well aduised, without examination of vs and our demeanour, bee fallen into despayre, and like men desperate, haue wrongfully accused themselues: but because I may not consume words in vayne, to stay you by my long discourse from matters of greater importaunce, I humbly beseech you (right excellent prince) to commaunde them to tell what thing it is, which so bitterly doth torment them.” Then the Duke caused one of the noble men assistaunt there, to demaund of them the question: Who aunswered that the chiefest occasion was, bicause they knew their Wyues to be Harlots, whom they supposed to be very honest: and forsomutch as they knew them to be sutch, they conceyued sorrow and griefe, which with sutch extremity did gripe them at the heart, as not able to sustayne that great Infamy, ashamed to be sene of men, were induced through desire of death to confesse that they neuer did. Mistresse Isotta hearing them say so, began to speak agayne, turning hir selfe vnto them: “Were you offended then at a thynge which yee thought inconuenient and not meete to be done? Wee then haue greatest cause to complayne. Why then sweete Husband went you to the Chaumber of mistresse Lucia at that time of the night? What had you to do there? What thing thought you to finde there more than was in your own house? And you Mayster Girolamo, what constrayned you to forsake your Wyue’s Bed to come to my Husband’s, where no man euer had, or at this present hath to do but himselfe? Were not the Sheetes of the one so white, so fine, neate, and sweete as the other? I am (most noble Prince) sory to declare my Husbande’s folly, and ashamed that hee should forsake my Bed to go to an other, that did accompt myselfe so well worthy to entertayne hym in myne owne, as the best Wyfe in Venice, and now through his abuse, I abstayne to shewe my selse amonges the Beautifull, and noble Dames of this Citty. The lyke misliking of hirselfe is in mistresse Lucia, who (as you see) may be numbred amongs the fayrest. Eyther of you ought to haue bene contented with your Wyues, and not (as wickedly you haue done) to forsake them, to seeke for better breade than is made of Wheate, or for purer Golde than whereof the Angell is made: O worthy deede of yours, that haue the Face to leaue your owne Wyues, that be comely, fayre, and honest, to seeke after straunge Carrion. O beastly order of Men that cannot conteyne their lust within the boundes of their owne House, but must goe hunt after other Women as Beastes do after the nexte of their kinde that they chaunce vppon. What vile affection possessed your hearts to lust after others Wyfe? You make complaynte of vs, but wee with you haue right good cause to be offended, you ought to bee grieued with your owne disorder, and not with others offence, and thys your affliction patiently to beare, bycause you went about to beguile one an other’s Loue, lyke them that be weary, and Glutted with their owne fare, seekinge after other daynties more delicate if they were to be founde. But praysed be God and our prouident discretion, if any hurt or shame hath chaunced, the same doth light on you. Moreouer I know no cause why men should haue more liberty to doe euill than we Women haue: albeit through the weaknes and cowardise of our Sexe, yee men will doe what ye list. But ye be now no Lords, nor we Seruaunts, and husbands we do you call, bicause the holy Lawes of Matrimony (which was the first Sacrament giuen by God to Men after the creation of the Worlde) doe require equall fayth, and so well is the husband bound to the Wyfe as she vnto him. Go to then and make your complaynt: the next Asse or Beast ye meete take hir to be your Wyfe. Why do yee not know that the balance of iustice is equall, and wayeth downe no more of one side than of other? But let vs nowe leaue of to reason of this matter, and come to that for which we be come hither. Two things (most ryghteous Prynce) haue moued vs to come before your maiesty, and all this honourable assembly, which had they not bene, we would haue bene ashamed to shewe our Faces, and lesse presumed to speake or once to open our Lippes in this Noble audience, which is a place only meete for them that be most Expert, and eloquent Orators, and not for vs, to whom the Needle, and Distaffe be more requisite. The first cause that forced vs to come forth of our owne house, was to let you understand that our Husbands be no murderers, as is supposed, neyther of this Gentleman present maister Aloisio, ne yet of any man els: and thereof we haue sufficient and worthy testimony. But herein we neede not to trauaile mutch, or to vse many wordes: for neyther maister Alosio is slayne, ne any other murdred that is known or manifest hitherto. One thyng resteth, which is that Madonna Lucia and I do humbly beseech youre excellente Maiestye, that youre grace and the authoritye of the right honourable Lords here present, will vouchsafe to reconcile vs to our husbands, that we may obtayne pardon and fauor at their handes, bicause we haue so manifestly made their acts to appeare, and for that we be the offence, and they the Offendours, and yet by their owne occasions, we haue committed the Error (if it may be so termed.) And now to come to the conclusion, I doe remember, sithens I was a Chylde, that I haue heard the Gentlewoman my mother saye (whose soule God pardon) many times vnto me, and other my sisters, and to mistresse Lucia, that was brought vp with vs, being by hir instructed in diuers good and vertuous Lessons, that all the honor a woman can doe vnto hir husband, whereby she beautifieth him and his whole race and family, consisteth in hir honest, chast, and vertuous lyfe, without which, she oughte rather to die than liue. And that a Gentleman’s Wyfe when she hath giuen hir body to the vse of an other man, is the common marke for euery man to point at in the streate where she goeth, hir husband therby incurring reproche and shame, whych no doubt is the greatest iniury and scorne that an honest Gentleman can receiue, and the moste shamefull reproche that can deface his house. Which Lesson we so well remembryng, desirous not to suffer the carelesse and vnbrideled appetites of our husbandes to be vnrained, and runne at large to some dishonest Ende, by a faithfull and commendable pollicy, did prouide for the mischyefe that myghte ensue. I neede not heere rehearse the enimytye and debate that manye yeares did raigne betweene our husbandes Fathers, bicause it is knowne to the whole City. Wee too therefore here presente, the Wiues of those noble Gentlemen, brought vp together from oure Cradle, perceiuing the malyce betwene our husbandes, made a vertue of Necessity, deemynge it better for vs to lose our sweete and auncient conuersation, than to mynister cause of disquietnesse. But the nearenesse of our houses would not that naturall hatred shoulde defraude and take away olde ingrafted amity. Wherefore many times when our Husbands were gone forth, we met together, and talked in our Gardens, betwene whych there is but a slender hedge beset with Primme and Roses, which commoditye in their absence we did discretly vse. And as sometimes for pleasure we walked with oure husbandes there, ye (shee turninge vnto them) did cast your eyes vpon ech other’s wyfe, and were strayghte way in loue, or else perchance you fained your selues to bee, whych espied by vs, many times betwene our selues did deuise vppon the same, and red your amorous letters, and sonnet sent vnto vs. For which disloyalty and treason toward vs your Wyues, we sought no dishonour to youre persons, wee were content to suffer you to bee abused with your fond loue, we blabbed it not abroade to our Gossips, as many leude and fantasticall women bee wont to doe, thereby to rayse slaunder to our husbands, and to sturre vp ill reporte vpon them, whose infirmities it becommeth vs to conceale and hide. We deuised meanes by some other way to let you understand your fault, and did cast vpon you many times right louinge lookes. Which although it were agaynste our owne desire, yet the cause, and full conclusion of the same, was to practise, if it were possible, to make you frendes: But consideringe that this loue, and allurementes of eyther parts, could not tend to other end, as wee coniectured, but to increase displeasure, and to put the swords into your handes, we therefore consulted, and vniformely in one minde agreed for the appeasinge, and satisfaction of all partes, at sutch nightes as ye fayned to go into diuers places about earnest affayres as yee alleaged, Mistresse Lucia with the help of Cassandra my mayde, through the Gardeine came into my chamber, and I by meanes of Iane hir maide by like way repayred vnto hirs. And yee poore men guided by our maydes were brought vnto your chambers where ye lay with your owne Wyues, and so by tilth of others land in straunge soyle (as yee beleeued) yee lost no labour. And bicause your embracements then, were like to those atchieued by amorous Gentlemen, vsinge vs with more earnest desire than you were wont to do, both wee were begotten with childe: which ought to be very gladsome, and gratefull vnto you, if yee were so fayne to haue children as yee shewed your selues to bee. If then none other offence doth grieue you, if remorse of Conscience for other cause doeth not offend you, if none other sorrowe doeth displease you: gieue ouer your griefe. Remit your displeasure. Be glad, and ioyfull. Thanke vs for our pollicy and pleasaunt disport that wee made you. If hitherto yee haue ben enimies, henceforth be frends, put of that auncient mallice so long continued, mitigate your hatefull moode, and liue yee from henceforth like friendly Gentlemen, yelde vp your rancor into the lap of your Countrey, that shee may put him in exile for euer, who like a pitifull, and louing mother woulde gladly see all hir children of one accorde and minde. Which if yee doe, (ye shall do singulare pleasure to your friendes), ye shall doe great discomfort to your foes, yee shall do singular good to the commonwealth, yee shall doe greatest benefit to your selues, ye shall make vs humble Wyues, yee shall encrease your posterity, yee shall be praysed of all men, and finally shall depart the best contented that euer the World brought forth. And now because yee shall not thinke that wee haue picked out thys Tale at our fingers ends, thereby to seeke your sauegard and our owne Fame, and prayse, beholde the letters which you sent vs, beholde you owne handes subscribed to the same, beholde your seales assigned thereunto, which shall render true testimony of that which vnfaynedly we haue affirmed.” Then both deliuered their letters, which viewed and seene, were well knowne to be their owne husbandes handes, and the same so well approued hir tale, as their husbands were the gladdest men of the world and the Duke and Seignory maruaylously satisfied and contented. In so mutch as the whole assembly with one voyce, cried out for their husbands deliueraunce. And so with the consent of the Duke and the whole seignory they were clearely discharged. The Parents, Cosins, and Friends of the husbands and wyues were wonderfully amazed to heere this long hystory, and greatly praysed the maner of their deliuery, accoumpting the women to be very wise, and mistresse Isotta to be an eloquent gentlewoman, for that shee had so well defended the cause of their husbands and of themselues. Anselmo and Girolamo openly in the presence of all the people embraced, and kissed their Wyues with great reioysing. And then the husbands shaked one an other by the hands, betwene whom began a Brotherly accorde, and from that time forth liued in perfect amity, and Friendship, exchaunging the wanton loue that eyther of them bare to other’s wyfe into Brotherly Friendship, to the great delight of the whole Citty. When the multitude assembled, to heare this matter throughly was satisfied, the Duke with cheerefull Countenaunce lookinge toward Gismonda, sayde thus vnto hir: “And you fayre Gentlewoman, what haue you to say: Bee bolde to vtter your minde, and wee wil gladly heare you.” Mistresse Gismonda bashfull to speake, began wonderfully to blush, into whose cheekes entred an orient rud, intermixed with an alabaster white, which made her countenaunce more amiable than it was wont to be. After she had stode still a while with hir eyes declined towards the ground, in comly wise lifting them vp againe with shamefast audacity she began thus to speake: “If I most Noble Prince, in open audience should attempt to discourse of Loue, whereof I neuer had experience, or knew what thing it was, I should be doubtfull what to say thereof, and peraduenture durst not open my mouth at al. But hearing my father (of worthy memory) many times to tel that your maiesty in the time of your youth disdained not to open your heart to receiue the amorous flames of loue, and being assured that there is none but that doth loue little or mutch, I do not doubt but for the words which I shal speake, to obtaine both pity and pardon. To come then to the matter: God I thanke him of his goodnesse, hath not permitted me to bee one of those women, that like hipocrites do mumble their Paternoster to saincts: appearing outwardly to be devout and holy and in Fruict doe bring forth Deuils, and al kinds of vices, specially ingratitude, which is a vice that doth suck and dry vp the fountain of godly Piety. Life is deare to mee (as naturally it is to all) next which I esteeme myne honor, which is to be preferred before life, bicause without honor life is of no regard. And where man and woman do liue in shame notorious to the world, the same may be termed a liuing death rather than a life. But the loue that I beare to mine onely beloued Aloisio here present, I do esteeme aboue al the Iewels and treasures of the world, whose personage I do regard more than mine owne Lyfe. The reason that moueth me thereto is very great, for before that I loued him or euer ment to fixe my mind that way, he dearely regarded me, continually deuising which way he might win and obtain my loue, sparing no trauel by Night and Day to seeke the same. For which tender affection should I shew myself vnkind and froward? God forbid. And to be playn with your honors, he is more deare and acceptable vnto me, than the balles of mine own eyes, being the chiefest things that appertain to the furniture of the body of man, without which no earthly thing can be gladsome and ioyful to the sense, and feelinge. Last of all his amorous, and affectionate demonstration of his loue towards me, by declaringe himselfe to be carefull of mine honor, rather more willinge to bestow his owne, than to suffer the same to be touched with the least suspicion of dishonesty, I can not choose, but so faythfully imbrace, as I am ready to guage my life for his sake, rather than his finger shoulde ake for offence. And where hath there bene euer found sutch liberality in any louer? What is he that hath bene euer so prodigall, to employ his life (the most speciall pledge in this worlde,) rather than hee would suffer his beloued to incurre dishonoure? Many hystoryes haue I red, and Chronicles of our time, and yet I haue found few or none comparable vnto thys Gentleman, the like of whom be so rare and seldome as white Crowes, or Swannes of colour blacke. O singuler liberality, never hearde of before. O fact that can neuer be sufficiently praysed. O true loue most vnfayned. Maister Aloisio rather than he would haue my fame any one iote to be impayred, or to suffer any shadow of suspition to bleamish the same, frankly hath confessed himselfe to be a theefe, and murdrer, regardinge mee and mine honor more than himselfe, and life. And albeit that he might a thousand wayes haue saued himselfe without the imprisonment and aduersity which he hath sustained: neuerthelesse after he had sayd, beinge then past remembrance through the fall, that he fell downe from my window, and perceyued how mutch that confession would preiudice and hurt my good name, and hurt the known honesty of the same, of his good wyll did chose to dye rather than to speake any words that might breede yll opinion of mee, or the least thinge of the worlde that might ingender infamy and slaunder. And therefore not able to revoke the words hee had spoken of the fall, nor by any meanes coulde coloure the same, hee thought to saue the good name of another by his owne hurt. If he then thus redily and liberally hath protruded his life into manifest daunger for my benefit and saueguard, preferring mine honour aboue the care of himselfe, shall not I abandon all that I haue, yea and therewithall hazard mine honor for his saluation? But what? Shall I disdayne bountifully to imploy my selfe and all the endeuor of my Frendes for his deliuery? No, no (my Lords) if I had a thousand liues, and so many honors at my commaundement, I woulde giue them al for his releyse and comfort, yea if it were possible for me to recouer a fresh X.C.M. lyues, I woulde so frankly bestow them all, as euer I desired to liue, that I might enioy mine owne Aloisio. But I am sorry, and euer shal be sorry, for that it is not lawful for me to do more for him, than that which my power and possibility is able. For if he should die, truely my life could not endure: if he were depriued of life, what pleasure should I haue to liue in this world after him: whereby (moste honorable and righteous iudge,) I beleeue before the honest, not to loose any one iote of myne honor, bicause I being (as you may see) a younge Woman and a Widow desirous to marry againe, it is lawful for me to loue and to bee beloued, for none other intent (whereof God is the onely iudge) but to attaine a husbande according to my degre. But if I should lose my reputation and honor, why should not I aduenture the same for hym, that hath not spared hys own for me? Now to come to the effect of the matter, I do say wyth al dutifull reuerence, that it is an accusation altogither false and vntrue, that euer mayster Alolsio came to my house as a Theefe against my wil. For what neede he to be a thefe, or what nede had he of my goodes, that is a Lorde and owner of twenty times so mutch as I haue? Alas good Gentleman, I dare depose and guage my lyfe, that he neuer thoughte mutch lesse dyd any robbery or thing vnlawful, wherewith iustly he may be charged, but he repayred to my house with my consent, as a louing and affectionate Louer, the circumstance whereof, if it be duly marked, must aduouch the same to be of trouth infallible. For if I had not giuen him licence to come, how was it possible for him to conuey his ladder so high, that was made but of Ropes, and to fasten the same to the iaume of the window, if none within did helpe hym? Againe, howe could the Window of the Chaumber be open at that time of the night, which is still kept shut, if it had not bene by my consent? But I with the helpe of my mayde threwe downe to him a little Rope, whereunto he tyed his Ladder and drewe the same vp, and making it so fast, as it could not vndo, gaue a signe for him to Mounte. But as both our ill Fortune would haue it, before I could catch any hold of him, to mine inestimable griefe and hart’s sorrow he fell downe to the ground. Wherefore (my Lords) I beseech your honours to reuoke the confession wherein he hath made hymselfe to be a theefe. And you maister Aloisio declare the trouth as it was, sith I am not ashamed in this honourable assemble to tel the same. Beholde the letters (my Lordes) which so many tymes he wrote vnto me, wherein hee made suite to come to my speache, and continually in the same doth call me Wyfe. Beholde the Ladder, which till nowe, did still remayne in my chaumber. Beholde my maide, whych in all mine affayres, is as it were myne owne hande and helper.” Aloisio being hereupon demaunded by the Lordes of the articles, which she in hir tale had recited, confessed them al to be true: who also at the same instant was discharged. The Duke greatly commended them both, hir for hir stoute audacity, in defence of an innocent Gentleman, and him for his honour, and modesty, by seeking to preserue the Fame and good reporte of a vertuouse Gentlewoman. Whych done, the Counsell disassembled and brake up. And the friendes of both the parties accompanied them home to the house of mistresse Gismonda, where to the great reioyce, and pleasure of all men, they were solemnely maried in sumptuous and honourable wise, and Aloisio with hys Wyfe lyued in great prosperity long time after. Mistresse Lucia, and mistresse Isotta, at the expyred tyme were deliuered of two goodly sonnes, in whom the Fathers tooke great Ioy, and delight. Who wyth their Wyues after that tyme liued very quietly, and well, one louing an other like naturall Brethren, many times sporting among themselues discretely at the deceipts of their Wyues. The wisedome of the Duke also was wonderfully extolled and commended of all men, the fame whereof was increased and bruted throughout the Region of Italy. And not without cause. For by hys prudence and aduise, the Dominion of the State, and Common wealth was amplified and dilated. And yet in th’ende being old and impotent, they vnkindly deposed him from his Dukedom.
[ THE TWENTY-SEVENTH NOUELL.]
The Lorde of Virle, by the commaundement of a fayre younge Wydow called Zilia, for hys promise made, the better to attaine hir loue, was contented to remayne dumbe the space of three yeares, and by what meanes he was reuenged, and obtayned hys suite.
They that haue spent their youth in humayne follies, and haue followed the Vanities of loue, not addicted to the contemplation of high secrets, nor haue made entry here on Earth, to inlarge and amplyfy the boundes of their honor and Estimation. Those Worldlings (I say) and embracers of transitory pleasures, shall witnesse with me, and confirme, this olde and auncient Theme and proposition to be true which is: that the Beauty, and comely grace of a Woman, is the very true and naturall adamant (for the attractiue power, and agreeable quality there inclosed,) to draw vnto it the hearts, and affections of men: which hath made man beleue, that the same onely essence, was sent downe from aboue to serue both for ioy and torment together. For the amplyfyinge of which proposition, I will not bring forth, the immoderate loue of Paris by forsaking his owne Natiue country of Troy, to visite fayre Helena in Greece, nor yet tell how Hercules gaue ouer his mace to handle the Distaffe, vpon the commaundement of Omphale, nor yet how Sampson and Salomon were sotted in the slaueries of Dalida and other concubines. But my discourse here folowing shall ring out a loud Peale, of a meane Gentlewoman, of Piedmount, that shewed no fauor or Curtesy at all to her suppliant, a Gentleman not inferior to Paris for his actiuity and prowesse: which for her seruice and atchyeues of her loue, refused not to bee dombe the space of many yeares, and to giue ouer the best porcion of his sences wherewith the Almighty, made Man differente from brute and sauage Beastes. If this thing declare not sufficiently the force and power of that attractiue and drawing power in woman, no other example is worthy to be preferred. Those aforesayd and many other haue voluntarily yoaked themselues in the chains of loue’s obedience, rendreth the masse of their mirye corps to the slauery thereof, but that any haue franckely tyed vp their Tongue, the chiefest Instrument of the bodies furniture: in honorable assembly or where dexterity of seruice shoulde make him glorious, the like of that subiection was neuer seene or founde. And yet our fathers dayes did see this miracle wrought by a Woman, vpon a Gentleman very wise, and well trained vp in all good exercyse. This example, and what this Malapert Dame did gaine, by the penance of this louing knight, shal in this discourse be manifestly pronounced. The City of Thurin (as is well knowne to them that haue trauelled Piedmont) is the ornament and bulwark of al the Countrey, so well for the natural site of the place, as for the artificial and industrious worke of man’s hande, which hath instaured and furnished with great magnificence, that which nature had indifferently enryched, for the rudenesse and litle knowledg of the time past. Now besides this stately and strong city, there standeth a litle towne named Montcall, a place no lesse strong, and of good defence, than wel planted in a faire and rich soyle. In this Towne there dwelt a Gentlewoman a widow called Zilia, beautiful amongs the most excellent fayre Gentlewomen of the countrey, which country (besides other happy and heauenly influences) seemeth to be specially fauored, for hauing the most fairest and curteous Gentlewomen, aboue any other within the compasse of Europa. Notwithstanding this faire Silia, degenerating from the nature of hir climate was so haggard and cruel, as it might haue ben thought, she had ben rather nourished and brought vp amid the most desert mountaines of Sauoy, than in the pleasant and rich Champian Countreye, watred and moystened with Eridanus, the father of Riuers, at this Day called the Pau, the largenesse whereof doth make men to maruel, and the fertility allureth ech man to be desirous to inhabit vpon the same. This fayre rebellious Widow, albeit, that she was not aboue XXIV. or XXV. yeres of age, yet protested neuer more to be subiect to man, by mariage, or otherwise, thinking her selfe wel able to liue in single life: a Minde truly very holy and commendable, if the pricks of the flesh do obey the first motions and adhortations of the spirit, but where youth, pleasure, and multitude of suters do addresse their endeuour against that chastity (which is lightly enterprysed) the Apostels counsel oughte to be followed, who willeth yong widows to marry in Christ, to auoid the temptations of the flesh, and to flye offensiue slaunder and dishonour before men. This mistresse Zilia (hir husband being dead) only bent hir selfe to enrich hir house, and to amplify the possession of a little infant which she had by hir late departed Husband. After whose death she became so couetous, as hauing remoued, and almost cut of quite the wonted port she vsed in hir husband’s dayes, imployed hir maids in houshold affaires, thinking nothing to be wel don that passed not through hir owne Handes. A thinge truely more prayse worthy, than to see a sorte of effeminate, fine and daynty fyngred Dames, that thinke their honor diminished yf they holde but their Nose ouer theyr Housholde Matters, where theyr Hande and Dylygence were more requisite, for so mutch as the mystresse of a House is not placed the Cheyfe to heare onely the reasons of them that Labor, but thereunto to put hir hands, for hir presente eye seemeth to giue a certyn perfection to the worke that the Seruauntes doe by hir commaundement. Which caused the Hystoryans in tymes past, to describe vnto the Posterity a Gentlewoman called Lucretia, not babbling amongs young girles, or running to feastes and Maigames, or Masking in the night, withoute any regard of the honor and dygnitye of hir race and house, but in hir Chaumber Sowing, Spinning and Carding, amids the Troup of hir Mayden Seruaunts: wherein our mistresse Zilia passed the moste part of hir time, spending no minute of the day, without some honest exercise, for that she the rather did for that she liked not to be seene at Feasts, or Bankets, or to be gadding vp and downe the streetes, wandring to Gardeyns or places of pleasure, although to sutch places youth sometimes may haue their honest repayre to refresh their wearied bodies with vertuous recreation, and thereby reioyce the heauinesse of their mynde. But this Gentlewoman was so seuere in following the rigorous, and constrayned maners of our auncients, as impossible it was, to see hir abroade: except it were when she went to the Church to heare deuine seruice. This Gentlewoman seemed to haue studied the diuinity of the Ægyptians which paynt Venus holding a key before hir mouth, and setting hir Fote vpon a Tortus, signifying vnto us thereby the duety of a chaste Woman, whose tongue ought to bee locked, that shee speak not but in tyme and place, and her feete not straying or wandering, but to keepe hir selfe within the limits of hir owne house, except it be to serue God, and sometimes to render bounden duety to them which brought them into light. Moreouer Zilia was so religious (I will not say superstitious) and rigorous to obserue customes, as she made it very squeimish and straung to kisse a Gentleman that met hir, a ciuility which of long time hath bene obserued, and yet remayneth in the greatest parte of the Worlde, that Gentlewomen do welcome straungers and Guests into their houses with an honest and chaste kisse. Notwithstandinge the institution and profession of this Wyddow had wiped away this poyncte of hir youth: whether it were for that she esteemed hirselfe so fayre as all men were vnworthy to touch the vtter partes of so rare and pretious a vessell, or that hir great, and inimitable chastity made hir so straunge, to refuse that which hir duety and honour woulde haue permitted hir to graunt. There chaunced about this time that a Gentleman of the Countrey, called Sir Philiberto of Virle, esteemed to be one of the most valiaunt gentlemen in those parts, repayred vpon an holy day to Montcall, (whose house was not very farre of the Towne) and being at diuine seruice, in place of occupying his Sence and Mynde in heauenly things, and attending the holy words of a Preacher, which that day declared the worde of God vnto the people, hee gaue himselfe to contemplate the excellent beauty of Zilia, who had put of for a while hir mourninge vayle, that she might the better beholde the good father that preached, and receyue a little ayre, because the day was extreme hot. The Gentleman at the first blushe, when hee sawe that sweete temptation before his eyes, thought himselfe rapt aboue the thirde heauen, and not able to withdraw his looke, he fed himselfe with the Venome which by little, and little, so seased vpon the soundest parts of hys mynde, as afterwards being rooted in heart, he was in daunger still to remayne there for a Guage, wythout any hope of ease or comforte, as more amply this followinge discourse, shall giue you to vnderstande. Thus all the morning hee behelde the Gentlewoman, who made no more accoumpt of theym, that wyth great admiration did behold hir, than they themselues did of their life, by committing the same to the handes of a Woman so cruell. This Gentleman being come home to his lodging enquired what fayre Wyddow that was, of what calling, and behauiour, but hee heard tell of more truely than he would of good will haue known or desired to haue ben in hir, whom he did presently chose to be the only mistresse of his most secret thoughts. Now vnderstandynge well the stubburne Nature, and vnciuile Manner of that Wyddowe, hee coulde not tell what parte to take, nor to what Sainct to vow his Deuotion, to make suite vnto hir hee thought it tyme lost, to bee hir Seruaunt, it was not in his power, hauing already inguaged his Lyberty into the handes of that beauty, whych once holding captiue the hearte of men, will not infraunchise them so soone as Thought and Wyll desire. Wherefore baytinge hymself with hope, and tickled wyth loue, he determined whatsoeuer chaunced, to loue hir, and to assay if by long seruice he could lenifie that harde hearte, and make tender that vnpliaunt wyll, to haue pitty vppon the payne which shee saw him to endure, and to recompence hys laboursome Trauayles, which hee thought were vertuously imployed for gayning of hir good grace. And vpon this settled deliberation, he retired agayne to Virle (so was his house named) where disposinge hys thinges in order, he retorned agayne to Montcall to make his long resiaunce there, to put in readines his furniture, and to welde his artillary with sutch industry, as in the ende he might make a reasonable breach to force and take the place: for surprising whereof, hee hazarded great daungers, the rather that himselfe might first be taken. And where his assaults and pollicies could not preuayle, hee minded to content his Fancy wyth the pleasure and pastyme that hee was to receyue in the contemplation of a thing so fayre, and of an image so excellent. The memory of whom rather increased his paine than yelded comfort, did rather minister corrosiue poyson, than giue remedy of ease, a cause of more cruell and sodayne death, than of prolonged lyfe. Philiberto then being become a citizen of Montcal, vsed to frequent the Church more than hee was wont to doe, or his deuotion serued hym, and that bycause he was not able elsewhere to enioy the presence of hys Saynct, but in places and Temples of Deuotion: which no doubt was a very holy and worthy Disposition, but yet not meete or requisite to obserue sutch holy places for those intentes, which ought not to bee prophaned in things so fonde and foolishe, and Actes so contrary to the Institution, and mynde of those, whych in tymes past were the firste Founders and Erectoures of Temples. Seignior Philiberto then mooued wyth that Religious Superstition, made no Conscience at al to speake vnto hir wythin the Church. And true it is, when she went out of the same, he (mooued wyth a certayne familiar curtesie, naturall to eche Gentleman of good bringing vp) many tymes conducted hir home to hir house, not able for all that (what so euer hee sayd) to win the thing that was able to ingender any little solace, which greeued him very much: for the cruell woman fained as though she vnderstoode nothing of that he sayde, and turnyng the Wayne agaynst the Oxen, by contrary talke shee began to tell hym a tale of a Tubbe, of matters of hir Householde, whereunto hee gaue so good heede, as shee did to the hearing of his complaynts. Thus these two, of diuers Affections, and mooued wyth contrary thoughtes, spake one to another, without apt aunswere to eyther’s talke. Whereby the Gentleman conceyued an assured argument of hys Ruine, who voyde of all hope, and meanes, practised with certayne Dames of the Citty, that had familiar accesse vnto hyr house, and vsed frequent conuersation wyth hys rebellious Lady Zilia. To one of them, then hee determined to communicate hys secrets, and to doe hir to vnderstand in deede the only cause that made him to soiorne at Montcall, and the griefe which he suffered, for that he was not able to discouer his torment vnto hir, that had giuen him the wounde. Thys Gentleman therefore, repayred to one of his neyghbours, a Woman of good corage, which at other tymes had experimented what meates they feede on that sit at Venus Table, and what bitternesse is intermingled amid those drinckes that Cupido quaffeth vnto hys Guestes. Vnto whom (hauing before coniured hir to keepe close that whych hee woulde declare) he discouered the secrets of hys mynde, expressinge hys loue wythout naming hys Lady before he heard the aunswere of hys Neyghbour, who vnderstanding almost to what purpose the affections of the Pacient were directed, sayd vnto hym: “Sir, needful it is not to vse longe orations, the loue that I beare you for the honest qualities whych hytherto I haue knowne to be in you, shall make me to keepe silent, that whereof as yet I do not know the matter, and the assuraunce you haue, not to bee abused by mee, constrayneth me to warrant you, that I wyll not spare to do you all the pleasure and honest seruice I can.” “Ah mistresse,” (aunswered sir Philiberto) “so long as I lyue, I will not fayle to acknowledge the Liberality of your endeuour by offeringe your selfe paciently to heare, and secretly, to keepe the Words I speake accordingly as they deserue: and that (whych is more than I require) you doe assure me that I shall finde sutch one of you as wil not spare to gieue your ayde. Alas, I resemble the good and wyse Captayne, who to take a forte doeth not only ayde himselfe with the forwardnesse, and valiaunce of his Souldiers, but to spare them, and to auoyde slaughter for makinge of way, planteth his cannon, and battereth the Walle of the fort, which hee would assaile, to the intent that both the Souldier, and the ordinaunce may perfourme and suffise the perfection of the plat, which hee hath framed and deuised within his pollitike heade. I haue already encouraged my souldiers, and haue lost the better part truely in the skirmish which hath deliuered vnto mee my sweete cruell Ennimy. Now I am driuen to make ready the fire, which resteth in the kindled match of your conceiptes, to batter the fort hitherto inexpugnable, for any assault that I can make.” “I vnderstand not” (sayd she smilyng) “these labyrynths of your complaynts, except you speake more playn. I neuer haunted the Warres, ne knewe what thynge it is to handle weapons, improper and not seemely for myne estate and kynde.” “The Warre” (quod he) “whereof I speake, is so naturall and common, as I doubt not, but you haue sometymes assayed, with what sleightes and camisados men vse to surpryse their enimies, howe they plant their ambushes, and what meanes both the assaylant and defendant ought to vse.” “So far as I see” (sayd shee) “there resteth nothing for vs, but the assurance of the field, sith wee bee ready to enter in combat: and doe thinke that the fort shall not bee harde to winne, by reason of the Walles, dikes, rampers, bulwarks, platformes, counterforts, curtines, vamewres and engins which you haue prepared, besides a numbre of false brayes and flanks, placed in good order, and the whole defended from the thundringe Cannons and Bombardes, which do amaze the wandring enemy in the field. But I pray you leauing these warlike Tumults, to speak more boldly without these extrauagantes and digressions, for I take pitye to see you thus troubled: ready to exceede the boundes of your modesty and wonted wysedome.” “Do not maruell at all mistresse” (quod he) “sith accordynge to new occurrentes and alterations, the purpose, talke, and counsel ordinarily do change I am become the seruaunt of one which maketh me altogither lyke vnto those that bee madde, and bound in Chaines, not able to speake or say any thing, but what the spyrites that be in them, do force them to vtter. For neither will I thynke, or speake any thing, but that which the Enchaunter Loue doth commaunde and suffer to expresse, who so rygorously doth vexe my hearte, as in place wher bouldenesse is most requysite, hee depriueth me of force, and leaueth mee without any Countenance. And being alone, God knoweth how frankly I doe wander in the place, where myne enemy may commaunde, and with what hardinesse I do inuade hir prouince. Alas, is it not pity then to see these diuersities in one selfe matter, and vpon one very thing? Truely I would endure wyllingly all these trauailes, if I wyst in the end, my seruice woulde be accepted, and hoped that my Martirdome shoulde fynde releefe: but liuing in this vncertainty, I must needes norysh the hunger and solace of the vnhappy, which are wishes and vaine hopes, trusting that some God wyll gayne me a faythful friend that will assaye to rid me from the hell, into the which I am throwne, or else to shorten thys Miserable lyfe, whych is a hundred tymes more paynfull than Death.” In sayinge so, he began to sighe so straungely as a man would haue thought that two Smithes sledges working at the forge, had gyuen two blowes at his stomake, so vehement was the inclosed winde within his heart, that made him to fetche forth those terrible sighes, the Eyes not forgetting to yeld forth a Riuer of Teares, which gushynge forthe at the centre of hys Hearte, mounted into his Braynes, at lengthe to make issue through the Spoute, proper to the Chanell of sutch a Fountayne. Which the Gentlewoman seyng, moued with compassion, coulde not contain also from Weepyng, and therewythall sayde vnto him: “Although mine estate and reputation, which to this day I have kept vnspotted, defend the vse of my good wyl in al things that may defame mine honor, yet sir, seing the extremity which you suffer to be vnfained, I wil somwhat stretch my conscience, and assay to succor you with so good heart, as frankely you trust me with the secrets of your thought. It resteth then now for me to know what she is, to whome your deuocions be inclined whose heart and mind I wil so relief with the taste of your good wil, as I dare giue warrant, her appetit shal accept your profred seruice, and truly that woman may count her self happy that shal intertain the offer of a gentleman that is so honest and curteous, who meaneth with al fidelity to aduance and honor, not onely the superficial ornament of hir beauty, but the inward vertues of hir constant mind. And truly the earth seldom yeldeth those frutes in the harts of men in these our barren days, they being ouer growen with the shrubbes of disloialty the same choke vp the plantes of true Fidelity, the sedes whereof are sowen and replanted in the soyle of womens hartes, who not able to depart and vse the force and effects thereof will put vpon them conditions that bee cruell, to punish the Foolysh indiscreation of tryfling Louers, who disguised with the vizard of fained friendship, and paynted with coloured Amity, languishing in sighes and sorrowes, goe aboute to assay to deceiue the flexible Nature of them that prodigally employ theyr honor into the hands of sutch cruel, inconstante and foolysh suters.” “Ah Mistresse” answered the Gentleman: “howe may I bee able to recompence that onely benefite which you promyse me now? But be sure that you see heere a Souldier and Gentleman presente which shall no lesse bee prodigall of hys Lyfe to doe you seruyce, than you bee lyberall of your reputation, to ease his Paines. Now sith it pleaseth you to shew sutch fauour to offer me your helpe and support in that which payneth me, I require no more at your hands, but to beare a letter which I shall wryte to mystresse Zilia, with whome I am so farre in loue, as if I do receiue no solace of my griefe, I know not howe I shall auoyde the cuttyng of the Threede, whych the spynning systers haue twisted to prolonge my lyfe, that henceforth can receiue no succor if by your meanes I do not atchieue the thing that holdeth me in bondage.” The Gentlewoman was very sorrowful, when she vnderstoode that Seignior Philiberto had bent his Loue vpon sutch one, as would not consente to that requeste, and mutch lesse would render rest vnto hys myseryes, and therefore enforced hir selfe to moue that Foolyshe Fantasye out of his head. But he beyng already resolued in thys myshappe, and the same perceyued by her in the ende she sayde: “To the intente sir that you may not thynke that I doe meane to excuse the Satysfactyon of my promyse, make youre Letters, and of my Fayth I wil delyuer them. And albeyt I knowe verye well what bee the Honoures and Glorye of that Pylgryme, yet I wyll render to you agayne the true aunswere of hir speache whereby you maye consider the gayne you are lyke to make, by pursuing a Woman (although faire) of so small desert.” The Gentleman fayled not to gyue her heartye Thankes, prayinge hir to tarry vntyll hee had written his letters: whereunto she most willingly obeyed. He then in his chaumber, began to fantasie a hundred hundred matters to write vnto his Mistresse, and after he had fixed theym in minde tooke Incke and Paper writing as followeth.
The Letters of Seignior Philiberto of Virle, to Mistresse Zelia of Montcall.
“The passion extreeme which I endure, (Madame) through the feruent loue I beare you, is sutch, as besides that I am assured of the little affection that resteth in you towards me agayne, in respect of that incredible seruitude which my desire is ready to employ, I haue no power to commaunde my force, ne yet to rid my selfe from my vowed deuotion and will to your incomparable beauty, although euen from the beginning I felt the pricks of the mortall shot which now torments my mynde. Alas, I do not know vnder what influence I am borne, nor what Fate doth guide my yeares, sith I doe perceyue that heauen, and loue, and hir whom alone I honor, doe confirme themselues with one assent to seeke myne ouerthrow. Alas, I thinke that all the powers aboue conspired together, to make me be the faythfull man, and perpetuall seruaunt of you my mistresse deare, to whom alone, I yelde my heart afflicted as it is, and the ioy of hidden thoughts noursed in my minde, by the contemplation and remembraunce of your excellent and perfect graces, whereof, if I be not fauored, I waight for death, from whych euen now I fly: not for feare of that whych she can doe, or of the vgly shape which I conceyue to be in hir, but rather to confirme my life, this Body for instrument to exercise the myndes conceypts for doinge your Commaundements, which Body I greatly feare shall proue the vnworthy cruelty, both of your gentle nouriture, and of those graces which Dame Nature most aboundantly hath powred in you. Be sure Madame that you shall shortlye see the Ende of him, which attendeth yet to beare so mutch as in him doeth lye, the vehement loue into an other world, which maketh me to pray you to haue pity on him, who (attending the rest and final sentence of his Death or Lyfe) doth humbly kisse your white and delicate handes, beseeching God to giue to you like ioy as his is, who desireth to be,
Wholy yours or not to be at all