For somutch as the more than beastly cruelty recounted in the former Hystory, doth yelde some sowre taste to the minds of those that be curteous, gentle and well conditioned by nature, and as the Stomacke of him that dayly vseth one kinde of meate, be it neuer so delycate and daynty, doth at length lothe, and disdayne the same, and vtterly refuseth it: I now chaunge the Diet, leauing murders, slaughters, despayres, and tragicall accidents, and turne my stile to a more pleasaunt thing, that may so well serue for instruction of the noble to follow vertue, as that which I haue already written, may rise to their profit, warely to take heede they fal not into sutch deformed and filthy faults, as the name and prayse of man be defaced, and his reputation decayed: if then the contraries be knowne by that which is of diuers natures, the villany of great cruelty shalbe conuerted into the gentlenesse of milde curtesie, and rigor shalbe condempned, when with sweetenesse and generosity, the noble shall assaye to wyn the heart, seruice, and affected deuotion of the basest sorte: So the greatnesse and nobility of man placed in dignity, and who hath puissaunce ouer other, consisteth not to shew himselfe hard, and terrible, for that is the manner of Tyraunts, bicause he that is feared, is consequently hated, euyll beloued, and in the ende forsaken, of the whole World, which hath bene the cause that in times past Prynces aspiring to great Conquests, haue made their way more easie by gentlenesse and Curtesie, than by fury of armes, stablishing the foundations of their dominions more firme and durable by those meanes, than they which by rigor and cruelty haue sacked townes, ouerthrowne Cities, depopulated Prouinces, and fatted Landes with the bodies of those, whose liues they haue depriued by dent of sword, sith the gouernement and authority ouer other, caryeth greater subiection, than puissance. Wherefore Antigonus, one of the successors of great Alexander (that made all the Earth to tremble vppon the recitall of hys name) seeing that hys Sonne behaued himselfe arrogantly, and wythout modesty to one of hys Subiects, reproued and checked hym, and amongs many wordes of chastisement and admonition, sayd vnto him: “Knowest thou not my Sonne, that the estate of a Kyng is a noble and honourable seruitude?” Royall wordes (in deede) and meete for Kyng: For albeit that eche man doth reuerence to a Kyng, and that he be honoured, and obeyed of all, yet is hee for all that, the Seruaunt, and publike Mynister, who ought no lesse to defend hys Subiect, than the Subiect to do him honour and Homage. And the more the Prynce doth humble himselfe, the greater increase hath his glory, and the more wonderfull he is to euery Wyght. What aduaunced the Glory of Iulius Cæsar, who first depressed the Senatorie State of gouernment at Rome? Where his Victoryes atchieued ouer the Galles and Britons, and afterwardes ouer Rome it selfe, when he had vanquished Pompee? All those serued his tourne, but his greatest fame rose of his Clemency and Curtesie: By the whych Vertues hee shewed himselfe to be gentle, and fauorable euen to those, whom hee knewe not to loue him, otherwise than if hee had beene their mortall Enimy. His Successors as Augustus, Vespasianus, Titus, Marcus Aurelius, and Flauius were worthily noted for clemency: Notwithstanding I see not one drawe neere to the great Courage, and Gentlenesse, ioyned wyth the singuler Curtesie of Dom Roderigo Viuario the Spanyarde Surnamed Cid, towarde Kyng Pietro of Aragon that hindred his expedityon agaynst the Mores at Grenadoe. For hauing vanquyshed the sayde King, and taken hym in Battell, not onely remitted the reuenge of his wrong, but also suffered hym to go wythout raunsome, and tooke not from him so mutch as one Forte, esteemyng it to bee a better exploite to winne sutch a King with curtesie, than beare the name of cruell in putting him to Death, or seasing vpon his land. But bicause acknowledging of the poore, and enriching the smal, is commendable in a Prynce, than when he sheweth himselfe gentle to his lyke, I haue collected this discourse and facte of Kynge Mansor of Marocco, whose Chyldren (by subtile and fained religion) Cherif succeded, the Sonne of whom at this day inioyeth the kingdomes of Su, Marocco, and the most part of the isles confinynge vpon Æthiopia. This history was told by an Italian called Nicholoso Baciadonne, who vppon this accydent was in Affrica, and in trafike of Marchandyse in the Land of Oran, situated vppon the coast of the South seas, and where the Geneuois and Spanyards vse great entercourse, bicause the countrey is faire, wel peopled, and wher the inhabitants (although the soyle be barbarous) lyue indifferent ciuilly, vsing great curtesie to Straungers, and largely departing their goodes to the poore, towards whom they be so earnestly bente, and louing, as for theyr Lyberality and pytiful almesse, they shame vs Christians. They meinteine a grest numbre of Hospitalles, to receiue and intertaine the poore and neady, wherein they shew themselues more deuout than they that be bounde by the law of Iesus Christe, to vse Charity towardes theyr brethren, with more curtesie and greater myldnesse. These Oraniens delight also to record in wryting the successe of thinges that chaunce in their time and carefully reserue the same in Memorie, whych was the cause that hauyng registred in theyr Chronicles, (wrytten in Arabie letters, as the most part of those Countreyes do vse) this present history, they imparted the same to the Geneuois marchants of whom the Italian author confesseth to haue receyued the copie. The cause why the Geneuois marchant was so diligent to make the enquirie, was by reason of a City of that prouince, builte through the chaunce of thys Historye, and which was called in theyr Tongue, Cæsar Elcabir, so mutch to say as, A great Pallace. And bycause I am assured, that curteous Myndes will delyght in deedes of Curtesie, I haue amonges other the Nouelles of Bandello, chosen by Francois de Belleforest and my self, discoursed thys, albeit the matter be not of great importance. For greater thynges and more notorious curtesies haue bene done by our own Kinges and Prynces. As that of Henry the eight a Prynce of notable memorye in hys Progresse into the North the XXXIII. yeare of his raigne, when he dysdayned not a pore Miller’s house being stragled from his trayne, busily pursuing the Hart, and ther vnknowne of the Miller, was welcomed with homely cheare, as hys mealy house was able for the time to minister, and afterwardes for acknowledging his willing Mynde, recompenced him wyth daynties of the Courte, and a Pryncely rewarde. Of Edwarde the thyrde, whose royall Nature was not displeased pleasauntly to vse a Waifaring Tanner, when deuyded from his Company, he mette hym by the way not far from Tomworth in Staffordshire, and by cheapening of his welfare steede (for stedinesse sure and able to carry him so farre as the stable dore) grewe to a price, and for exchaunge the Tanner craued fiue shillings to boote betwene the Kings and his. And when the King satisfied with disport, desired to shew himself by sounding his warning blaste, assembled all hys Traine, and to the great amaze of the poore Tanner, (when he was guarded with that Troupe) he well guerdoned his good Pastime and familiar dealing, with the order of Knighthoode and reasonable reuenue for the maintenaunce of the same. The lyke Examples our Chronicles, memory, and reporte plentifully doe auouche and witnesse. But what? this Hystory is the more rare and worthy of notyng, for respect of the People and Countrey, where seldome or neuer Curtesie haunteth or findeth harborough, and where Nature doth bryng forth greater store of monsters, than thinges worthy of praise. This great King Mansor then was not onely the Temporall Lord of the Countrey of Oran and Marocco, but also (as is saide of Prete Iean,) Byshop of his Law and the Mahomet Priest, as he is at thys Day that raighneth in Feze, Sus, and Marocco. Now thys Prynce aboue all other pleasure, loued the game of Hunting. And he so mutch delighted in that passetime, as sometime he would cause his Tentes in the myd of the desertes to be erected, to lye there all Nyght, to the end, that the next day he might renew his game, and defraud his men of idlenesse, and the Wild beasts of rest. And this manner of Life he vsed still, after he had done Iustice and hearkened the complaintes for which his Subiectes came to disclose thereby theyr griefes. Wherein also he toke so great pleasure, as some of our magistrates do seeke their profite, whereof they be so squeymishe, as they be desirous to satisfy the place whereunto they be called, and render all men their righte due vnto them. For wyth theyr Bribery and Sacred Golden Hunger, Kings and Prynces in these dayes be ill serued, the people wronged, and the wycked out of feare. There is none offence almost how villanous so euer it be, but is washed in the Water of Bribery, and clensed in the holly drop, wherewith the Poets faine Iupiter to corrupt the daughter of Acrifius fast closed within the brasen Toure. And who is able to resist that, which hath subdued the highest powers? Now returne we from our wanderings: This greate Kynge Mansor on a day assembled his People to hunt in the marish and fenny Countrey, that in elder age was not farre of from the City of Alela, which the Portugalles holde at this present, to make the way more free into the Isles of Molucca, of the most part wherof their King is Lord. As he was attentife in folowing a Beare, and his pastime at the best, the Elements began to darke and a great tempest rose, such as with the storme and violent Winde, scattered the trayne far of from the King, who not knowing what way to take, nor into what place he might retire, to auoid the tempest, the greatest that he felt in al his life, would with a good wil haue ben accompanied as the Troiane Æneas was, when being in like pastime and fear he was constrayned to enter into a Caue wyth his Queene Dido, where he perfourmed the Ioyes of hys vnhappy Maryage. But Mansor beeynge without Companye, and wythout any Caue at Hande, wandered alonges the Champayne so carefull of hys Lyfe for feare of Wylde Beastes, whych flocke together in those desertes as the Courtiers were pensiue, for that they knew not whether theyr Prynce was gone. And that which chiefly grieued Mansor was hys being alone without guide: And for all he was well mounted, he durst passe no further for fear of drownyng, and to be destroyed amiddes those Marshes, whereof all the Countrey was very ful. On the one side he was fryghted with Thunderclaps, which rumbled in the ayre very thicke and terryble: On the other side the lightning continually flashed on his face, the roring of the Beastes apalled him, the ignoraunce of the way so astonned him, as he was affraide to fall into the running Brokes, which the outragious raignes had caused to swell and ryse. It is not to be doubted, that orisons and prayers vnto hys greate prophet Mahomet were forgotten, and doubtfull it is whether he were more deuout when he went on Pilgrimage to the Idolatrous Temple of Mosqua. Hee complayned of ill lucke, accusing Fortune, but chiefly hys owne folly, for giuing himselfe so mutch to hunting, for the desire whereof, hee was thus straggled into vnknowen Countreyes. Sometimes he raued and vomytted his Gall agaynst his Gentlemen and houshold seruaunts, and threatned death vnto his guarde. But afterwards, when reason ouershadowed his sense, he saw that the tyme, and not their neglygence or little care caused that disgrace. He thoughte that his Prophet had poured downe that tempest for some Notable sinne, and had brought him into such and so dangerous extremity for his faults. For which cause he lifted vp his Eyes, and made a thousand Mahomet mowes, and Apish mocks (according to theyr manner.) And as he fixed his eyes aloft vp to the heauens, a flash of lightning glaunced on his Face so violently, as it made him to holde downe his head, lyke a lyttle Chyld reproued of his maister. But he was further daunted and amazed, when he saw the night approche, which with the darkenes of his cloudy Mantell, stayed hys pace from going any further, and brought him into such perplexitye, as willingly he would haue forsaken both his hunting and company of his Seruants to be quit of that Daunger. But God carefull of good Myndes (with what law so euer they be trayned vp,) and who maketh the Sunne to shine vpon the iust and and vniuste, prepared a meanes for his sauegarde, as you shal heare. The Affricane King beyng in his traunce, and naked of all hope, necessity (which is the clearest loking glasse that may be found,) made him diligently to loke about, whether he could see any persone by whome he might attayne some securitie. And as he thus bent himselfe to discry all the partes of the Countrey, he saw not far of from him, the glimpse of a light which glimmered out at a little Window, whereunto he addressed himselfe, and perceiued that it was a simple Cabane situate in the middest of the Fennes, to which he approached for his succor and defense in the time of that tempest. He reioysed as you may think, and whither his heart lept for ioy, I leaue for them to iudge which haue assayed like daungers, how be it I dare beleue, that the saylers on the seas feele no greater ioy when they arriue to harborough, than the king of Marocco dyd: or when after a Tempest, or other peril, they discrye vppon the prowe of their shyppe, the bryghtnesse of some clyffe, or other land. And thys king hauing felt the tempest of Wind, raine, haile, lyghtenyng, and Thunder claps, compassed round aboute with Marshes and violent streames of little Riuers that ran along his way, thought he had found Paradise by chauncing vpon that rusticall lodge. Now that Cotage was the refuge place of a pore Fisher man, who lived and susteined his Wife and children with Eeles which he toke alongs the ditches of those deepe and huge Marshes. Mansor when he was arrived at the dore of that great pallace couered and thacked with Reede, called to them wythin, who at the first would make no answer to the Prynce that taried there comming at the Gate. Then he knocked againe, and with louder voyce than before, which caused this fisher man, thinkynge that he had bene some rippier (to whom he was wont to sell hys ware, or else some straunger strayed out of his way,) spedily went out, and seeinge the Kinge well mounted and richlye clothed, and albeit he tooke him not to be his soueraigne Lord, yet he thought he was some one of his Courtly Gentlemen. Wherefore hee sayde: “What Fortune hath dryuen you (sir) into these so deserte and solytarye Places, and sutch as I maruell that you were not drowned a hundred tymes, in these streames, and bogges whereof this Marrish and fenny Countrey are full?” “It is the great God” (aunswered Mansor) “which hath had some care of me, and will not suffer me to perysh without doynge greater good turnes and better deedes than hitherto I haue don.” The King’s comming thither, seemed to Prognosticate that whych after chaunced, and that God poured downe the Tempest for the Wealth of the Fisher man, and commodity of the Country. And the straying of the Kyng was a thyng appoynted to make voyde those Marshes, and to purge and clense the Countrey: Semblable chaunces haue happened to other Prynces, as to Constantine the great, besides his City called New Rome, when he caused certayne Marshes and Ditches to be filled vp and dryed, to build a fayre and sumptuous Temple, in the Honor and Memory of the blessed Virgin that brought forth the Sauior of the World. “But tel me good man” (replyed Mansor) “canst thou not shew me the way to the Court, and whether the King is gone, for gladly (if it were possible) would I ride thither.” “Verily” (sayd the Fisher Man) “it will be almost day before ye can come there, the same beinge ten leagues from hence.” “Forsomutch as thou knowest the way” (aunswered Mansor) “doe me so great pleasure to brynge me thither, and be assured that besides the good turne, for which I shall be bound vnto thee, I will curteously content thee for thy paynes.” “Sir” (sayd the poore man) “you seeme to be an honest Gentleman, wherfore I pray you to lyght, and to tarry heere this Night, for that it is so late, and the way to the City very euyll and combersome for you to passe.” “No, no,” (sayd the King) “if it be possible, I must repayre to the place whither the King is gone, wherefore doe so mutch for me as to bee my guide, and thou shalt see whether I be vnthankfull to them that imploy their paynes for mee.” “If Kyng Mansor” (sayd the Fisher man) “were heere hymselfe in Person and made the lyke request, I would not be so very a foole, nor so presumptuous, (at this time of the Nyght) to take vppon me without Daunger to bryng hym to his Palace.” “Wherefore?” (sayed the Kyng) “Wherefore? (quod you), bicause the Marshes bee so daungerous, as in the Day tyme, if one know not wel the way, the Horse, (be hee neuer so stronge and Lusty,) may chaunce to sticke fast, and tarry behynd for gage. And I would be sorry if the King were heere, that he should fall into Peryl, or suffer any anoyance and therewythall would deeme my selfe vnhappy if I did let hym to incur sutch euyll or incombrance.” Mansor that delighted in the communication of this good man, and desirous to know the cause that moued him to speak with sutch affection, said vnto him: “And why carest thou for the Life, health, or preseruation of the Kynge? What hast thou to doe wyth him that wouldest be so sorry for hys state, and carefull of his safety.” “Ho, ho,” said the good man, “doe you say that I am carefull for my Prince? Verily I loue him a hundred tymes better than I do my selfe, my Wife or children whych God hath sent me: and what sir, do not you loue our Prince?” “Yes that I doe” (replyed the Kyng,) “for I haue better cause than thou, for that I am many times in his company, and liue vpon his charge and am entertayned with his wages. But what nedest thou to care for hym? Thou knowest him not, hee neuer did thee anye good turne or pleasure: nor yet thou nedest not hope henceforth to haue any pleasure at his hands.” “What?” (said the Fisher man) “must a Prince be loued for gaine and good turnes, rather than for hys Iustice and curtesie? I see wel that amongs you maister Courtiers, the benefits of kings be more regarded, and their gifts better liked than their vertue and nobility, which maketh them wonderful vnto vs: and ye do more esteme the gold, honor and estates that they bestow vpon you, than their health and sauegard, which are the more to be considered, for that the King is our head, and God hath made him sutch one to kepe vs in Peace, and to be carefull of our states. Pardon me if I speake so boldly in your presence.” The kyng (which toke singular delight in this Countrey Philosopher,) answered him: “I am not offended bicause thy words approche so neare the troth: but tel me what benefit hast thou receiued of that King Mansor, of whome thou makest sutch accompt and louest so wel? For I cannot thinke that euer he dyd thee good, or shewed thee pleasure, by reason of thy pouerty, and the little Furnyture within thy house in respect of that which they possesse whome hee loueth and fauoreth, and vnto whome he sheweth so great familyaritye and Benefite.” “Doe tell me sir” (replyed the good man) “for so mutch as you so greatly regard the fauoures which Subiects receiue at theyr Prynces handes, as in deede they ought to doe, What greater goodnesse, richesse, or Benefite ought I to hope for, or can receyue of my King (being sutch one as I am,) but the profite and vtility that all we whych be his vassalles do apprehend from day to day in the Iustyce that he rendereth to euery Wyghte, by not suffering the puissant and Rich to suppresse and ouertread the feeble and weake, and him that is deuoid of Fortune’s goods, that indifferency be maintayned by the Officers, to whom he committeth the gouernement of his Prouinces, and the care which he hath that his people be not deuoured by exactions, and intolerable tributes. I do esteeme more his goodnesse, clemency and Loue, that he beareth to his subiects, than I doe all your delycates and ease in following the Court. I most humbly honor and reuerence my king in that he being farre from vs, doeth neuerthelesse so vse his gouernment as we feele his presence like the Image of God, for the peace and vnion wherein we through him do lyue and enioy, without disturbaunce, that lytle whych God and Fortune haue gyuen vs. Who (if not the king) is he that doeth preserue vs, and defend vs from the incursions and pillages of those Theues and Pirates of Arabie, which inuade and make warre with their neighbours? and there is no friend they haue but they would displease if the King wysely did not forbyd and preuent their villanies. That great Lord which kepeth his Court at Constantinople and maketh himself to be adored of his people like a God, brideleth not so mutch the Arabians, as our king doth, vnder the Protection and sauegard of whome, I that am a poore Fisher man, do ioy my pouerty in peace, and without fear of theeues do norish my litle family, applying my selfe to the fishing of Eeles that be in these ditches and fenny places, which I carry to the market townes, and sell for the sustenance and feeding of my wife and children, and esteeme my self right happy, that returning to my cabane, and homely lodge at my pleasure, in whatsoeuer place I do abide, bicause (albeit far of from Neighboures,) by the benefite and dilygence of my Prince, none staye my iourney, or offendeth me by any meanes, whych is the cause (sayd he lifting vp his hands and eyes aloft,) that I pray vnto God and his great Prophet Mahomet, that it may please them to preserue our King in health, and to gyue him so great happe and contentation, as he is vertuous and debonaire, and that ouer hys Ennimies (flying before him,) he may euermore be victorious, for noryshing his people in peace, and his children in ioy and Nobility.” The King seeing that deuout affectyon of the paisaunte, and knowyng it to be without guile or Hypocrisie, would gladly haue discouered himself, but yet willyng to reserue the same for better opportunity, he sayd vnto him: “Forsomutch as thou louest the king so well, it is not impossible but those of his house be welcome vnto thee, and that for thy Mansor’s sake, thou wilt helpe and do seruice to his Gentlemen.” “Let it suffise you” (replyed he) “that my heart is more inclined to the King, than to the willes of those that serue him for hope of preferment. Now being so affectionate to the king as I am, thynke whyther hys householde Seruauntes haue power to commaund me, and whither my willing mynde be prest to doe them good or not. But mee thynke ye neede not to stay heere at the gate in talke, being so wet as you be: Wherefore vouchsafe to come into my house, which is youre owne, to take sutch simple lodging as I haue, where I wyl entreat you, (not according to your merite) but with the little that God and his Prophet haue departed to my pouerty: And to morrow morning I will conduct you to the City, euen to the royall Palace of my Prynce.” “Truly” (answered the King) “albeit necessity did not prouoke me, yet thine honesty deserueth well other reputation than a simple Countrey man, and I do thinke that I haue profited more in hearing thee speake than by hearkenyng to the flattering and babbling tales of Courting triflers, which dayly employ themselues to corrupte the eares of Prynces.” “What sir?” (sayd the Paysant) “thynke you that thys poore Coate and simple lodging be not able to apprehend the Preceptes of Vertue? I haue sometimes heard tell, that the wise auoyding Cityes and Troupes of Men, haue wythdrawne themselues into the desertes, for leysure to contemplate heauenly thynges.” “Your skyll is greate,” replyed Mansor: “Goe we then, sith you please to doe me that Curtesie as this night to be myne hoste.” So the king went into the Rustical Lodge, where insteede of Tapistery and Turkey hangings, he sawe the house stately hanged with fisher Nets and Cordes, and in place of rich seeling of Noble mens houses, he beheld Canes and Reedes whych serued both for the seeling and couering. The Fisher man’s Wife continued in the kitchen, whilest Mansor hymself both walked and dressed his owne horse, to which horse the Fisher man durste not once come neare for his Corage and stately trappour, wyth one thing he was abundantly refreshed, and that the moste needefull thing which was fire, whereof there was no spare, no more then there was of Fishe. But the king which had been dayntely fed, and did not well taste and lyke that kynde of meat, demaunded if hys hunger could not be supplyed with a lytle Flesh, for that his stomacke was anoyed with the onely sauoure of the Eeles. The poore man, (as ye haue somewhat perceiued by the former discourse) was a pleasaunt fellow, and delighted rather to prouoke laughter than to prepare more dainty meat, said vnto the king: “It is no maruell, though our kinges do furnishe themselues with Countrey men, to serue them in their Warres, for the delicate bringing vp and litle force in fine Courtiers. Wee, albeit the Raine doth fal vppon our heads, and the Winde assaile euery part of our bodies all durtie and Wet, doe not care either for fire or Bed, wee feede vpon any kinde of meate that is set before vs, withoute seeking Sauce for increasing of our appetite: and we (beholde) are nimble, healthy, lusty, and neuer sicke, nor our mouth out of tast, where ye do feele sutch distemperaunce of stomacke, as pity it is to see, and more ado there is to bring the same into his right order and taste, than to ordeine and dresse a supper for a whole armie.” The king who laughed (with displayed throte,) hearing his hoste so merily disposed, could haue been contented to haue heard him still had not his appetite prouoked him, and the time of the Night very late. Wherefore he said vnto him: “I do agree to what you alleage, but performe I pray thee my request, and then wee will satisfie ourselues with further talke.” “Well sir” (replied the king’s Hoste,) “I see well that a hungry Belly hath no luste to heare a merry song, whereof were you not so egre and sharpe set, I could sing a hundred. But I haue a lytle Kidde which as yet is not weaned, the same wil I cause to bee made ready, for I think it cannot be better bestowed.” The supper by reason of the hoste’s curtesie, was passed forth in a thousand pleasant passetimes, whych the Fisherman of purpose vttered to recreate hys Guest, bicause he sawe hym to delight in those deuyses. And vppon the end of Supper, he sayd vnto the King: “Now sir, how like you this banket? It is not so sumptuous as those that be ordinarily made at our Prynce’s Court, yet I thynke that you shal slepe wyth no lesse appetyte than you haue eaten with a god stomack, as appeareth by the few Woords you have vttered in the tyme of your repast. But whereunto booteh it to employ tyme, ordeyned for eating, in expense of talke, whych serueth not but to passe the tyme, and to shorten, the day? And meats ought rather to be taken for sustentation of Nature then for prouocation or motion of thys feeble and Transitorye Fleshe?” “Verily” (sayd the King) “your reason is good, and I doe meane to ryse from the Table, to passe the remnant of the Nyght in rest, therewyth to satisfie my selfe so well as I haue wyth eatyng, and do thanke you heartily for your good aduertysement.” So the King went to Bed, and it was not long ere hee fell a sleepe, and contynued tyll the Mornynge. And when the Sunne dyd ryse, the Fisherman came to wake hym, tellyng hym that it was tyme to rise, and that hee was ready to bryng him to the Court. All this whyle the Gentlemen of the kinge’s Traine were searching round aboute the Countrey to fynde his Maiesty, makyng Cryes and Hues, that he myghte heare them. The kyng knowyng their voices, and the noyes they made, went forth to meete them, and if his People were gladde when they founde him, the Fisherman was no lesse amazed to see the honor the Courtyers did vnto his Guest. Which the curteous king perceiuing, sayd vnto him: “My Friend, thou seest here, that Mansor, of whome yesternight thou madest so great accompt, and whome thou saidst, that thou didst loue so well. Bee assured, that for the Curtisie thou hast done him, before it bee longe, the same shall be so well acquyted, as for euer thou shalte haue good cause to remembre it.” The good man was already vpon his marybones beseeching the King that it would please him pardon hys rude entertainement and his ouermutch familiarity whych hee had vsed vnto him. But Mansor causing him to rise vp, willed hym to depart, and sayed that within few dayes after he shoulde heare further Newes. Now in these Fennish and marrysh groundes, the Kyng had already builded diuers Castles and lodges for the pleasure and solace of hunting. Wherefore he purposed there to erect a goodly City, causing the waters to be voyded with greate expedition, whych City he builded immediately, and compassyng the circuite of the appoynted place, with strong Walles and depe Ditches, he gaue many immunities and Pryuiledges to those, that would repayre to people the same, by meanes whereof, in litle tyme, was reduced to the state of a beautifull and wealthy City, whych is the very same that before we sayd to be Cæsar Elcabir, as mutch to say: “The great Palace.” This goodly worke beinge thus performed Mansor sent for his host, to whome hee sayde: “To the end from henceforth thou mayest more honourably entertaine Kyngs into thy House, and mayest intreate them wyth greater sumptuositie, for the better solacyng of them wyth thy curtesy and pleasaunt talke, beholde the City that I haue buylded, which I doe gyue vnto thee and thyne for euer, reseruing nothyng but an acknowledgement of good wil, to the end thou mayst know that a Gentleman’s mind nousled in villany, is discouered, when forgetting a good turne, he incurreth the vice of Ingratitude.” The good man seeing so liberall an offer and present worthy of sutch a king fell downe vppon his knees, and kyssing his foote with al humility, sayd vnto him: “Sir if your Liberality did not supply the imperfection of my Meryte, and perfourmed not what wanted in me, to attayne so great estate, I would excuse my selfe of the charge whych it pleaseth you to gyue mee, and whereunto for lacke of trayning vp, and vse of sutch a Dignity, I am altogether vnfit. But sith that the graces of God, and the gyftes of Kynges ought neuer to bee reiected, by acceptynge thys Benefite wyth humble thankes for the clemencye of your royall Maiestye, I rest the Seruaunt and slaue of you and yours.” The king hearing hym speake so wisely, took hym vp, and imbraced him, saying: “Would to God and his great Prophete, that all they which rule Cityes, and gouerne Prouinces, had so good a Nature as thine then I durst be bolde to say, that the People shoulde lyue better at theyr ease, and Monarches without charge of conscience, for the ill behauyors of theyr Officers. Lyue good man, lyue at thine ease, maynteine thy people, obserue our lawes, and increase the Beauty of the City, whereof from this time forth wee doe make the possesser.” And truly the present was not to bee contempned, for that the same at this day is one of the fairest that is in Affrica, and is the Land of the blacke People, sutch as the Spaniards call Negroes. It is very full of Gardeins, furnished with aboundance of Spyces brought from the Moluccas, bicause of the martes and faires ordeined there. To be short, Mansor shewed by this gift what is the force of a gentle heart, which can not abyde to bee vanquished in curtesie, and lesse suffer that vnder forgetfulnesse the memorye of a receyued good turne be lost. King Darius whilome, for a little garment, receiued in gift by Silofon the Samien, recompenced him wyth the gaine and royall dignity of that City, and made him soueraine Lord thereof, and of the Isle of Samos. And what greater vertue can illustrate the name of a noble man, than to acknowledge and preferre them, which for Natural shame and bashfulnesse, dare not beholde the Maiesty of their greatnesse? God sometymes with a more curteous Eye doth loke vpon the presents of a poore man, than the fat and rych offerings of him that is great and wealthy? Euen so a benefite, from what hand soeuer it procedeth, cannot chose but bryng forth the fruicts of his Liberality that giueth the same, who by vsing largesse, feleth also the like in him to whom it is employed. That magnificence no long time past vsed the Seigniorie of Venice, to Francesco Dandulo, who after he had dured the great displeasures of the Pope, in the name of the whole City, vpon his returne to Venice, for acknowledgment of his pacyence, and for abolishmente of that Shame, was wyth happye and vniforme Acclamatyon of the whole state elected, and made Prince, and Duke of that Common wealth. Worthy of prayse truly is he, that by some pleasure bindeth another to his curtesie: but when a Noble man acknowledgeth for a benefit, that which a Subiect is bounde to gieue him by duty and seruice, there the proofe of prayse carryeth no Fame at all. For which cause I determined to display the Hystory of the barbarous King Mansor, to the intent that our Gentlemen, noryshed and trained vp in great ciuilytie, may assay by their mildenesse and good education, to surmount the curtesie of that Prynce, of whom for this time wee purpose to take our Farewell.
[ THE
CONCLUSION,
WITH
AN ADUERTISEMENT TO THE READER.]
What thou hast gained for thy better instruction, or what conceiued for recreation by reading these thirty fiue Nouells, I am no Iudge, although (by deeming) in reading and perusing, thou mayst (at thy pleasure) gather both. But howsoeuer profite, or delight, can satisfy mine apoyntment, wherefore they were preferred into thy hands, contented am I that thou doe vouchsafe them Good lessons how to shun the Darts, and Prickes of insolency thou findest in the same. The vertuous noble may sauor the fruits and taste the licour that stilleth from the gums or buds of Vertue. The contrary may see the blossoms fall, that blome from the shrubs of disloialty and degenerat kinde. Yong Gentlemen, and Ladies do view a plot founded on sured grounde, and what the foundation is, planted in shattring Soyle, with a fashion of attire to garnish their inward parts, so well as (sparelesse) they imploy vpon the vanishing pompe. Euery sort and sexe that warfare in the fielde of humayne life, may set here the sauourous fruict (to outwarde lyking) that fansied the sensuall taste of Adam’s Wyfe. They see also what griefts sutch fading fruicts produce vnto posterity: what likewise the lusty growth and spring of vertue’s plant, and what delicates it brauncheth to those that carefully keepe the slips thereof, within the Orchard of their mindes. Diuers Tragical shewes by the pennes description haue bene disclosed in greatest number of these Hystories, the same also I haue mollified and sweetened with the course of pleasaunt matters, of purpose not to dampe the deynty mindes of those that shrinke and feare at such rehearsall. And bicause sodaynly (contrary to expectation) this Volume is risen to greater heape of leaues, I doe omit for this present time sundry Nouels of mery deuise, reseruing the same to be ioyned with the rest of an other part, wherein shall succeede the remnaunt of Bandello, specially sutch (suffrable) as the learned French man François de Belleforrest hath selected, and the choysest done in the Italian. Some also out of Erizzo, Ser Giouani Florentino, Parabosco, Cynthio, Straparole, Sansouino, and the best liked out of the Queene of Nauarre, and other Authors. Take these in so good part with those that haue and shall come forth, as I do offre them with good will curteously correcting sutch Faults, and Errors, as shall present themselues, eyther burying them in the Bosome of Fauor, or pretermitting them with the beck of Curtesie.
FINIS.
BALLANTYNE PRESS: EDINBURGH AND LONDON.
Title Pages
[ Volume III Title Page]
THE
Palace of Pleasure
ELIZABETHAN VERSIONS OF ITALIAN AND FRENCH NOVELS
FROM BOCCACCIO, BANDELLO, CINTHIO, STRAPAROLA,
QUEEN MARGARET OF NAVARRE,
AND OTHERS
DONE INTO ENGLISH
by WILLIAM PAINTER
NOW AGAIN EDITED FOR THE FOURTH TIME
by JOSEPH JACOBS
VOL. III.
[Publisher’s Mark: IN NUCE LIBELLUS]
LONDON: PUBLISHED BY DAVID NUTT IN THE STRAND
MDCCCXC