Читать книгу The Decameron: The Original English Translation by John Florio - Джованни Боккаччо - Страница 24

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A lively demonstration, that the beauty of a woman (oftentimes) is very hurtfull to her selfe, and the Occasion of many evils, yea, and of death, to divers men

The Soldan of Babylon sent one of his Daughters, to be joyned in marriage with the King of Cholcos, who by divers accidents (in the space of foure yeeres) happened into the custodie of nine men, and in sundry places. At length, being restored backe to her Father, she went to the saide King of Cholcos, as a Maid, and as at first she was intended to be his wife.

Peradventure the Novell related by Madam Aemillia, did not extend it selfe so farre in length, as it mooved compassion in the Ladies mindes, the hard fortunes of Beritol and her Children, which had incited them to weeping: but that it pleased the Queen (upon the Tales conclusion) to command Pamphilus, to follow next in order with his Discourse; and he being thereto very obedient, began in this manner.

It is a matter of no meane difficulty (vertuous Ladies) for us to take intire knowledge of every thing we doe, because (as oftentimes hath bene observed) many men, imagining if they were rich, they should live securely, and without any cares. And therefore, not onely have theyr prayers and intercessions aimed at that end, but also their studies and daily endevours, without refusall of any paines or perils have not meanely expressed their hourely solicitude. And although it hath happened accordingly to them, and their covetous desires fully accomplished; yet at length they have mette with such kinde people, who likewise thirsting after their wealthy possessions, have bereft them of life, being their kinde and intimate friends, before they attained to such riches. Some other, being of lowe and base condition, by adventuring in many skirmishes and foughten battels, trampling in the bloud of their brethren and friends, have bene mounted to the soveraigne dignity of Kingdomes (beleeving that therein consisted the truest happinesse) but bought with the deerest price of their lives. For, beside their infinit cares and feares wherewith such greatnesse is continually attended, at the royall Tables, they have drunke poyson in a Golden pot. Many other in like manner (with most earnest appetite) have coveted beauty and bodily strength, not foreseeing with any judgement, that these wishes were not without perill; when being endued with them, they either have bene the occasion of their death, or such a lingering lamentable estate of life, as death were a thousand times more welcome to them.

But, because I would not speake particularly of all our fraile and humane affections, I dare assure ye, that there is not any one of these desires to be elected among us mortals, with entire forsight or providence, warrantable against their ominous yssue. Wherefore, if we would walke directly, wee should dispose our willes and affections, to be guided onely by him, who best knoweth what is needfull for us, and will bestow them at his good pleasure. Nor let me lay this blamefull imputation uppon men onely, for offending in many through over lavish desires: because you your selves (gracious Ladies) sinne highly in one, as namely, in coveting to be beautifull. So that it is not sufficient for you, to enjoy those beauties bestowne on you by Nature; but you practice to increase them by the rarities of Art. Wherefore, let it not offend you, that I tell you the hard fortune of a faire Sarazine, to whom it hapned by straunge adventures, that within the compasse of foure yeares, nine severall times to be married. and onely for her beauty.

It is now a long time since, that there lived Soldane in Babylon, named Beminidab, to whom (while he lived) many things happened, answerable to his owne desires. Among divers other Children both male and female, hee had a daughter called Alathiella, and shee (according to the common voyce of every one that saw her) was the fayrest Lady then living in all the world. And because the King of Cholcos had wonderfully assisted him, in a most valiant foughten battell against a mighty Armie of Arabians, who on a sodaine had assailed him; he demanded his faire daughter in marriage, which likewise was kindly granted to him. Whereupon a goodly and well-armed Ship was prepared for her, with full furnishment of all necessary provision, and accompanied with an honourable traine both of Lords and Ladies, as also most costly and sumptuous accoustrements; commending her to the mercy of heaven, in this maner was she sent away.

The time being propitious for their parting thence, the Mariners hoised their sayles, leaving the port of Alexandria, and sayling prosperously many dayes together. When they had past the Countrey of Sardinia, and (as they imagined) were well neere to their journeyes end; sodainely arose boysterous and contrary windes, which were so impetuous beyond all measure, and so tormented the Ship wherein the Lady was; that the Mariners seeing no signe of comfort, gave over all hope of escaping with life. Neverthelesse, as men most expert in implacable dangers, they laboured to their uttermost power, and contended with infinite blustring tempests, for the space of two dayes and nights together, hoping the third day would prove more favourable. But therein they saw themselves deceyved, for the violence continued still, encreasing in the night time more and more, being not any way able to comprehend either where they were, or what course they tooke, neither by Marinall judgement, or any apprehension else whatsoever, the heavens were so clouded, and the nights darkenesse so extreame. Beeing (unknowne to them) neere the Isle of Majorica, they felt the Shippe to split in the bottome: by meanes whereof, perceiving now no hope of escaping (every one caring for himselfe, and not any other) they threw foorth a Squiffe on the troubled waves, reposing more confidence of safety that way, then abiding any longer in the broken ship. Howbeit such as were first descended downe, made stout resistance against all other followers, with their drawne weapons: but safety of life so far prevayled, that what with the Tempests violence, and over lading of the Squiffe, it sunke to the bottome, and all perished that were therein. The Ship being thus split, and more then halfe full of water, tossed and tormented by the blustring windes, first one way, and then another: was at last driven into a strond of the Isle Majorica, no other persons therein remaining, but onely the Lady and her women, all of them (through the rude tempest, and their owne conceived feare) lying still, as if they were more then halfe dead. And there, within a stones cast of the neighboring shore the ship (by the rough surging billowes) was fixed fast in the sands, and so continued all the rest of the night, without any further molestation of the windes.

When day appeared, and the violent stormes were more mildly appeased the Ladie, who seemed well-neere dead, lifted up her head, and began (weake as she was) to call first one, and then another: but shee called in vaine, for such as she named were farre enough from her. Wherefore, hearing no answere, nor seeing any one, she wondred greatly, her feares encreasing then more and more. Raising her selfe so well as shee could, she beheld the Ladies that were of her company, and some other of her women, lying still without any stirring: whereupon, first jogging one, and then another, and calling them severally by their names; shee found them bereft of understanding, and even as if they were dead, their hearts were so quayled, and their feare so over-ruling, which was no meane dismay to the poore Lady her selfe. Neverthelesse, necessity now being her best counsellor, seeing her selfe thus all alone, and not knowing in what place shee was, shee used such meanes to them that were living, that (at the last) they came to better knowledge of themselves. And being unable to guesse, what was become of the men and Marriners, seeing the Ship also driven on the sands, and filled with water, she began with them to lament most greevously: and now it was about the houre of mid day, before they could descry any person on the shore, or any els to pity them in so urgent a necessity.

At length, noone being past, a Gentleman named Bajazeth, attended by divers of his followers on horsebacke, and returning from a Countrie house belonging to him, chanced to ride by on the sands. Uppon sight of the Ship lying in that case, he imagined truely what had hapned, and commanded one of his men to enter aboord it, which (with some difficultie) hee did, to resolve his Lord what remained therein. There hee found the faire yong Lady, with such small store of company as was left her, fearefully hidden under the prow of the Ship. So soone as they saw him, they held up their hands, wofully desiring mercy of him: but he perceiving their lamentable condition, and that hee understoode not what they saide to him, their affliction grew the greater, labouring by signes and gestures, to give him knowledge of their misfortune.

The servant gathering what he could by their outward behaviour, declared to his Lord what hee had seene in the Ship; who caused the Women to be brought on shore, and all the precious things remaining with them; conducting them with him to a place not far off, where with food and warmth he gave them comfort. By the rich garments which the Lady was cloathed withall, he reputed her to be a Gentlewoman well derived, as the great reverence done to her by the rest, gave him good reason to conceive. And although her lookes were pale and wan, as also her person mightily altered, by the tempestuous violence of the Sea: yet notwithstanding, she appeared faire and lovely in the eye of Bajazeth, whereupon forthwith he determined, that if she were not married, hee would enjoy her as his owne in marriage: or if he could not winne her to bee his wife, yet (at the least) shee should be his friend, because she remained now in his power.

Bajazeth was a man of stearne lookes, rough and harsh both in speech and behaviour; yet causing the Lady to be honourably used divers dayes together, shee became thereby well comforted and recovered. And seeing her beautie to exceede all comparison, he was afflicted beyond measure, that he could not understand her, nor she him, whereby hee could not know of whence or what she was. His amorous flames encreasing more and more; by kinde, courteous, and affable actions, he laboured to compasse what he aymed at. But all his endeavour proved to no purpose, for she refused all familiar privacie with him, which so much the more kindled the fury of his fire. This being well observed by the Lady, having now remained there a moneth and more, and collecting by the customes of the Countrey, that she was among Turkes; and in such a place, where although she were knowne, yet it would little advantage her; beside, that long protraction of time would provoke Bajazeth by faire meanes or force to obtaine his will: she propounded to her selfe (with magnanimity of spirit) to tread all misfortunes under her feete, commanding her Women (whereof shee had but three now remaining alive) that they should not disclose what she was, except it were in some such place, where manifest signes might yeeld hope of regaining their liberty. Moreover, she admonished them stoutly to defend their honour and chastity; affirming, that she had absolutely resolved with her selfe, that never any other shou enjoy her, but her intended husband: wherein her women did much commend her, promising to preserve their reputation, according as shee had commanded.

Day by day, were the torments of Bajazeth wonderfully augmented, yet still his kinde offers scornefully refused, and he as farre off from compassing his desires, as when he first beganne to moove the matter: wherefore, perceiving that all faire courses served to no effect, hee resolved to compasse his purpose by craft and subtilty, reserving rigorous extremitie for his finall conclusion. And having once observed, that wine was verie pleasing to the Lady, she being never used to drinke any at all, because (by her Countries Law) it was forbidden her: and no meane store having beene lately brought to Bajazeth in a Barke of Geneway: hee resolved to surprize her by meanes thereof, as a cheefe minister of Venus, to heate the coolest blood. And seeming now in his outward behaviour, as if hee had given over his amorous pursuite, and which she strove by all her best endeavours to withstand: one night, after a very majesticke and solemne manner, hee prepared a delicate and sumptuous supper, whereto the Lady was invited: and hee had given order, that hee who attended on her Cup, should serve her with many Wines compounded and mingled together; which hee accordingly performed, as being cunning enough in such occasions.

Alathiella mistrusting no such trechery intended against her, and liking the Wines pleasing taste extraordinarily, dranke more then stoode with her precedent modest resolution, and forgetting all her passed adversities, became very frolicke and merry: so that seeing some women dance after the manner observed there in Majorica, she also fell to dauncing according to the Alexandrian custome. Which when Bajazeth beheld, he imagined the victory to be more then halfe wonne, and his hearts desire verie neere the obtaining: plying her still with wine upon wine, and continuing this revelling the most part of the night.

At the length, the invited guests being all gone, the Lady retyred then to her chamber, attended on by none but Bajazeth himselfe, and as familiarly as if he had bene one of her women, shee no way contradicting his bold intrusion, so farre had wine over-gone her sences, and prevailed against all modest bashfulnesse. These wanton embracings, strange to her that had never tasted them before, yet pleasing beyond measure, by reason of his treacherous advantage; afterward drew on many more of the ike carowsing meetings, without so much as thought of her passed miseries, or those more honourable and chaste respects, that ever ought to attend on Ladies.

Now, Fortune envying thus their stollen pleasures, and that shee, being the purposed wife of a potent King, should thus become the wanton friend of a much mean man, whose onely glory was her shame; altered the course of their too common pastimes, by preparing a farre greater infelicity for them. This Bajazeth had a Brother, aged about five and twenty yeeres, of most compleate person, in the very beauty of his time, and fresh as the sweetest smelling Rose, he being named Amurath. After he had once seene this Ladie (whose faire feature pleased him beyond all womens else) shee seemed in his sodaine apprehension, both by her outward behaviour and civill apparancie, highly to deserve his verie best opinion, for she was not meanely entred into his favour. Now hee found nothing to his hinderance, in obtaining the heighth of his hearts desire, but onely the strict custodie and guard, wherein his brother Bajazeth kept her: which raised a cruell conceite in his minde, wherein followed (not long after) as cruell an effect.

It came to passe, that at the same time; in the Port of the Cittie, called Caffa, there lay then a Ship laden with Merchandize, being bound thence for Smyrna, of which Ship two Geneway Merchants (being brethren) were the Patrons and Owners, who had given direction for hoysing the sailes to depart thence when the winde should serve. With these two Genewayes Amurath had covenanted, for himselfe to goe aboord the ship the night ensuing, and the Lady in his company. When night was come, having resolved with himselfe what was to be done: in a disguised habite hee went to the house of Bajazeth, who stood not any way doubtfull of him, and with certaine of his most faithfull Confederates (whom he had sworne to the intended action) they hid themselves closely in the house. After some part of the night was over-past, he knowing the severall lodgings both of Bajazeth and Alathiella, slew his brother soundly sleeping; and seizing on the Lady, whom he found awake and weeping, threatned to kill her also, if she made any noyse. So, being well furnished with the greater part of worldly jewels belonging to Bajazeth, unheard or undescried by any body, they went presently to the Port, and there (without any further delay) Amurath and the Lady were received into the Ship, but his companions returned backe againe; when the Mariners, having their sailes ready set, and the winde aptly fitting for them, lanched forth merrily into the maine.

You may well imagine, that the Ladie was extraordinarily afflicted with greefe for her first misfortune; and now this second chancing so sodainely, must needs offend her in greater manner: but Amurath did so kindely comfort her with milde, modest, and manly perswasions, that all remembrance of Bajazeth was quickely forgotten, and shee became converted to lovely demeanor, even when Fortune prepared a fresh miserie for her, as not satisfied with those whereof shee had tasted already. The Lady being unequalled for beauty (as I said before) her behaviour also in such exquisit and commendable kinde expressed; the two Brethren owners of the Ship, became so deeply enamored of her, that forgetting all their more serious affaires, they studied by all possible meanes, to be pleasing and gracious in her eye, yet with such a carefull carriage, that Amurath should neither see, or suspect it.

When the Brethren had imparted their loves extreamity each to the other, and plainely perceyved, that though they were equally in their fiery torments, yet their desires were utterly contrary: they began severally to consider, that gaine gotten by Mirchandize, admitted an equall and honest division, but this purchase was of a different quality, pleading the title of a sole possession, without any partner or intruder. Fearefull and jealous were they both, least either should ayme at the others intention, yet willing enough to shake hands, in ridding Amurath out of the way, who onely was the hinderer of their hopes, Whereupon they concluded together, that on a day when the Ship sayled on very swiftly, and Amurath was sitting upon the Decke, studiously observing how the Billowes combatted each with other, and not suspecting any such treason in them towards him: stealing softly behinde him, sodainely they threw him into the Sea, the shippe floating on above halfe a Leagues distance, before any perceived his fall into the Sea. When the Ladie heard thereof, and saw no likely meanes of recovering him againe, she fell to her wonted teares and lamentations: but the two Lovers came quickely to comfort her, using kinde words and pithy perswasions (albeit she understood them not, or at the most very little) to appease the violence of her passions; and, to speak uprightly, she did not so much emoane the losse of Amurath, as the multiplying of her owne misfortunes, still one succeeding in the necke of another. After divers long and well delivered Orations, as also very faire and courteous behaviour, they had indifferently pacified her complainings: they beganne to discourse and commune with themselves, which of them had most right and title to Alathiella, and consequently ought to enjoy her. Now that Amurath was gone, each pleaded his priviledge to bee as good as the others, both in the Ship, Goods, and all advantages else whatsoever happening: which the elder brother absolutely denied, alleadging first his propriety of birth, a reason sufficient, whereby his younger ought to give him place: Likewise, his right and interest both in the ship and goods, to be more then the others, as being heire to his father, and therefore in justice to be highest preferred. Last of all, that his strength onely threw Amurath into the Sea, and therefore gave him the full possession of his prize, no right at all remaining to his brother.

From temperate and calme speeches, they fell to frownes and ruder Language, which heated their blood in such violent manner, that forgetting brotherly affection, and all respect of Parents or Friends, they drew forth their Ponyards, stabbing each other so often and desperately, that before any in the shippe had the power or meanes to part them, both of them being very dangerously wounded, the younger brother fell downe dead: the elder being in little better case, by receiving so many perilous hurts, remained (neverthelesse) living. This unhappy accident displeased the Lady very highly, seeing her selfe thus left alone, without the help or counsell of any bodie; and fearing greatly, least the anger of the two Brethrens Parents and Friends, should now bee laide to her charge, and thereon follow severity of punishment. But the earnest entreaties of the wounded surviver, and their arrivall at Smirna soone after, delivered him from the danger of death, gave some ease to her sorrow, and there with him she went on shore. Remaining there with him in a common Inne, while he continued in the Chirurgians cure, the fame of her singular and much admired beauty was soone spread abroad throughout all the City: and amongst the rest, to the hearing of the Prince of Ionia, who lately before (on very urgent occasions) was come to Smyrna. This rare rumour, made him desirous to see her, and after he had seene her, shee seemed farre fairer in his eye, then common report had noised her to be, and suddenly grew so enamored of her, that she was the onely Idea of his best desires. Afterward, understanding in what manner shee was brought thither, he devised how to make her his own, practising all possible meanes to accomplish it: which when the wounded Brothers Parents heard of, they not onely made tender of their willingnesse therein, but also immediately sent her to him: a matter most highly pleasing to the Prince, and likewise to the Lady her selfe; because she thought now to be freed from no meane perill, which (otherwise) the wounded Merchants friends might have inflicted uppon her.

The Prince perceiving, that beside her matchlesse beauty, shee had the true character of Royall behaviour; greeved the more, that he could not be further informed of what Countrey shee was. His opinion being so stedfastly grounded, that (lesse then Noble) she could not be, was a motive to set a keener edge on his affection towardes her, yet not to enjoy her as in honoirable and loving complement onely, but as his espoused Lady and Wife. Which appearing to her by apparant demonstrations, though entercourse of speech wanted to confirme it; remembrance of her so many sad disasters, and being now in a most noble and respected condition, her comfort enlarged it selfe with a setled hope, her feares grew free from any more mollestations, and her beauties became the onely theame and argument of private and publike conference in all Natolia, that (well-neere) there was no other discourse, in any Assembly whatsoever.

Heereupon the Duke of Athens, beeing young, goodly, and valiant of person as also a neere Kinsman to the Prince, had a desire to see her; and under colour of visiting his noble Kinsman, (as oftentimes before he had done) attended with an honourable traine, to Smirna he came, being there most royally welcommed, and bounteously feasted. Within some few dayes of his there being, conference passed betweene them, concerning the rare beauty of the Ladie; the Duke questioning the Prince, whether shee was of such wonder, as fame had acquainted the World withall? Whereto the Prince replyed; Much more (Noble kinsman) then can bee spoken of, as your owne eyes shall witnesse, without crediting any words of mine. The Duke soliciting the Prince thereto very earnestly, they both went together to see her; and she having before heard of their comming, adorned her selfe the more Majestically, entertaining them with ceremonious demeanor (after her Countries custome) which gave most gracious and unspeakable acception.

At the Princes affable motion, shee sate downe betweene them, their delight being beyond expression, to behold her, but abridged of much more felicitie, because they understood not any part of her Language: so that they could have no other conference, but by lookes and outward signes onely; and the more they beheld her, the more they marvelled at her rare perfections, especially the Duke, who hardly credited that shee was a mortall creature. Thus not perceyving, what deepe carowses of amorous poyson his eyes dranke downe by the meere sight of her, yet thinking thereby onely to bee satisfied, hee lost both himselfe and his best sences, growing in love (beyond all measure) with her. When the Prince and he were parted from her, and hee was at his owne private amorous — meditations in his Chamber, he reputed the Prince farre happier then any man else whatsoever, by the enjoying of such a peerelesse beauty.

After many intricate and distracted cogitations, which molested his braines incessantly, regarding more his loves wanton heate, then reason, kindred, and honourable hospitality; he resolutely determined (whatsoever ensued thereupon) to bereave the Prince of his faire felicity, that none but himselfe might possesse such a treasure, which he esteemed to bee the height of all happinesse. His courage being conformable to his bad intent, with all hast it must be put in execution; so that equity, justice, and honesty, being quite abandoned, nothing but subtile stratagems were now his meditations.

On a day, according to a fore-compacted treachery which he had ordered with a Gentleman of the Princes Chamber, who was named Churiacy, he prepared his horses to be in readinesse, and dispatched all his affaires else for a sodaine departure. The night following, hee was secretly conveyed by the said Churiacy, and a friend of his with him (being both armed) into the Princes Chamber, where he (while the Ladie was soundly sleeping) stood at a gazing window towards the Sea, naked in his shirt, to take the coole ayre, because the season was exceeding hot. Having formerly enstructed his friend what was to be done, very softly they stept to the Prince, and running their weapons quite thorow his bodie, immediately they threw him forth of the window.

Here you are to observe, that the Pallace was seated on the Sea shore, and verie high, and the Window whereat the Prince then stood looking foorth, was directly over divers houses, which the long continuance of time, and incessant beating on by the surges of the Sea, had so defaced and ruined them, as seldome they were visited by any person; whereof the Duke having knowledge before, was the easier perswaded that the falling of the Princes body in so vast a place, could neither bee heard or descryed by any. The Duke and his Companion, having thus executed what they came for, proceeded yet in their cunning a little further; casting a strangling Cord about the necke of Churiacy, seemed as if they hugged and imbraced him: but drew it with so maine strength, that he never spake word after, and so threw him downe after the Prince.

This done, and plainely perceiving that they were not heard or seene, either by the Lady, or any other: the Duke tooke a light in his hand, going on to the bed, where the Lady lay most sweetely sleeping; whom the more he beheld, the more he admired and commended: but if in her garments shee appeared so pleasing, what did shee now in a bed of such state and Majestie? Being no way daunted with his so late committed sin, but swimming rather in surfet of joy, his hands all bloody, and his soule much more ugly; he laide him downe on the bed by her, bestowing infinite kisses and embraces on her, she supposing him to be the Prince all this while, not opening her eyes to bee otherwise resolved. But this was not the delight he aymed at, neither did he thinke it safe for him, to delay time with any longer tarrying there: Wherefore, having his agents at hand fit and convenient for the purpose, they surprized her in such sort, that shee could not make any noyse or outcry, and carrying her through the same false posterne, whereat themselves had entred, laying her in a Princely litter; away they went with all possible speede, not tarrying in any place, untill they were arrived neere Athens. But thither he would not bring her, because himselfe was a married man, but rather to a goodly Castle of his owne, not distant farre from the City; where he caused her to bee kept very secretly (to her no little greefe and sorrow) yet attended on and served in most honourable manner.

The Gentlemen usually attending on the Prince, having waited all the next morning till noone, in expectation of his rising, and hearing no stirring in the Chamber, did thrust at the doore, which was but onely closed together, and finding no body there, they presently imagined, that he was privately gone to some other place, where (with the Ladie, whom he so deerely affected) hee might remaine some few dayes for his more contentment, and so they rested verily perswaded. Within some few dayes following, while no other doubt came in question, the Princes Foole, entering by chance among the ruined houses, where lay the dead bodies of the Prince and Churiacy: tooke hold of the cord about Churiacyes necke, and so went along dragging it after him. The dead body being knowne to many, with no meane mervaile how he should bee murthered in so vile manner: by gifts and faire perswasions they wonne him to bring them to the place where he found it. And there (to the no little greefe of the whole Cittie) they found the Princes body also, which they caused to bee intered with all the most Majesticke pompe that might be.

Upon further inquisition, who should commit horrid a deede, perceyving likewise that the Duke of Athens was not to be found, but was closely gone: they judged (according to the truth) that he had his hand in this bloody businesse, and had carried away the Lady with him. Immediately, they elected the Princes brother to be their Lord and Soveraigne, inciting him to revenge so horrid a wrong, and promising to assist him with their utmost power. The new chosen Prince being assured afterward, by other more apparant and remarkeable proofes, that his people informed him With nothing but truth: sodainly, and according as they had concluded, with the help of neighbors, kindred and frends, collected from divers places; he mustred a good and powerfull army, marching on towards Athens, to make war against the Duke.

No sooner heard he of this warlike preparation made against him, but he likewise levied forces for his owne defence, and to his succour came many great States: among whom, the Emperor of Constantinople sent his sonne Constantine, attended on by his Nephew Emanuell, with Troopes of faire and towardly force, who were honoutably welcommed and entertained by the Duke, but much more by the Dutchesse, because shee was their sister in Law.

Military provision thus proceeding on daily more and more, the Dutches making choise of a fit and convenient houre, took these two Princes with her to a with-drawing Chamber; and there in flouds of teares flowing from her eyes, wringing her hands, and sighing incessantly, she recounted the whole History, occasion of the warre, and how dishonourably the Duke dealt with her about this strange woman, whom hee purposed to keepe in despight of her, as thinking that she knew nothing therof, and complaining very earnestly unto them, entreated that for the Dukes honour, and her comfort, they would give their best assistance in this case.

The two young Lords knew all this matter, before shee thus reported it to them; and therefore, without staying to listen [to] her any longer, but comforting her so wel as they could, with promise of their best emploied paines: being informd by her, in what place the Lady was so closely kept they took their leave, and parted from her. Often they had heard the Lady much commended, and her incomparable beauty highly extolled, yea even by the Duke himselfe; which made them the more desirous to see her: wherfore earnestly they solicited him to let them have a sight of her, and he (forgetting what happened to the Prince, by shewing her so unadvisedly to him) made them promise to grant their request. Causing a very magnificent dinner to be prepared, and in a goodly garden, at the Castle where the Lady was kept: on the morrow, attended on by a smal traine, away they rode to dine with her.

Constantine being seated at the Table, hee began (as one confounded with admiration) to observe her judiciously, affirming secretly to his soule that he had never seene so compleat a woman before; and allowing it for justice, that the Duke or any other whosoever, if (to enjoy so rare a beauty) they had committed treason, or any mischeefe els beside, yet in reason they ought to be held excused. Nor did he bestow so many lookes upon her, but his praises infinitely surpassed them, as thinking that he could not sufficiently commend her, following the Duke step by step in affection; for being now growne amorous of her, and remembrance of the intended warre utterly abandoned; no other thoughts could come neerer him but how to bereave the Duke of her, yet concealing his love, and not imparting it to any one.

While his fancies were thus amorously set on fire, the time came, that they must make head against the Prince, who already was marching with in the Dukes dominions: wherfore the Duke, Constantine, and all the rest, according to a counsel held among them, went to defend certaine of the Frontiers, to the end that the Prince might passe no further. Remaining there divers dayes together, Constantine (who could thinke on nothing else but the beautiful Lady) considered with himself, that while the Duke was now so farre from her, it was an easie matter to compasse his intent: Hereupon, the better to colour his present returne to Athens, he seemed to be surprized with a sudden extreame sicknesse, in regard whereof (by the Dukes free license, and leaving all his power to his Cosen Emanuel) forthwith he journyed backe to Athens. After some conference had with his sister, about her dishonourable wrongs endured at his hands onely, by the Lady, he solemnly protested, that if she were so pleased, hee would aide her powerfully in the matter, by taking her from the place where shee was, and never more afterward, to be seene in that Country any more.

The Dutchesse being faithfully perswaded, that he would do this onely for her sake, and not in any affection he bare to the Lady, answered, that it highly pleased her; alwayes provided, that it might be performed in such sort, as the Duke her husband should never understand, that ever she gave any consent thereto; which Constantine sware unto her by many deepe oaths, whereby she referred all to his owne disposition. Constantine heereupon secretly prepared in a readinesse a subtile Barke, sending it in an evening, neere to the Garden where the Lady resorted; having first informed the people which were in it, fully what was to be done. Afterwards, accompanied with some other of his attendants, he went to the Palace to the Lady, where he was gladly entertained, not onely by such as wayted on her, but also by the Lady her selfe.

Leading her along by the arme towards the Garden, attended on by two of her servants, and two of his owne; seeming as if he was sent from the Duke, to conferre with her: they walked alone to a Port opening on the Sea, which standing ready open, upon a signe given by him to one of his complices, the Barke was brought close to the shore; and the Ladie being sodainly seized on, was immediately conveyed into it; and he returning backe to her people, with his sword drawne, said: Let no man stirre, or speake a word, except he be willing to loose his life: for I intend not to rob the Duke of his faire friend, but to expell the shame and dishonor that he hath offered to my Sister: no one being so hardy as to returne him any answer. Aboord went Constantine with his consorts, and sitting neere to the Lady, who wrung her hands, and wept bitterly; he commaunded the Mariners to launch forth, flying away on the wings of the winde, till about the breake of day following, they arrived at Melasso. There they tooke landing, and reposed on shore for some few dayes, Constantine labouring to comfort the Lady, even as if she had bene his owne Sister, shee having good cause to curse her infortunate beauty.

Going aboord the Barke againe, within few dayes they came to Setalia, and there fearing the reprehension of his father, and least the Lady should be taken from him; it pleased Constantine to make his stay, as in a place of no meane security. And (as before) after much kinde behaviour used towards the Lady, without any meanes in her selfe to redresse the least of all these great extremities, she became more milde and affable, for discontentment did not a jot quaile her.

While occurrences passed on in this manner, it fortuned, that Osbech the King of Turky (who was in continuall war with the Emperour) came by accident to Lajazzo: and hearing there how lasciviously Constantine spent his time in Setalia, with a Lady which he had stolne, being but weake and slenderly guarded; in the night with certaine well provided ships, his men and he entred the town, and surprized many people in their beds, before they knew of their enimies comming, killing such as stood upon their defence against them, (among whom was Constantine) and burning the whole Towne, brought their booty and prisoners aboord their Shippes, wherewith they returned backe to Lajazzo. Being thus come to Lajazzo, Osbech who was a brave and gallant young man, upon a review of the pillage, found the faire Lady, whom he knew to be the beloved of Constantine, because shee was found lying on his bed. Without any further delay, he made choice of her to be his wife; causing his nuptials to be honourably solemnized, and many moneths he lived there in great joy with her.

But before occasions grew to this effect, the Emperour made a confederacie with Bassano, King of Cappadocia, that hee should descend with his forces, one way upon Osbech, and he would assault him with his power on the other. But he could not so conveniently bring this to passe, because the Emperour would not yeeld to Bassano, in any unreasonable matter he demanded. Neverthelesse, when hee understoode what had happened to his Sonne (for whom his greefe was beyond all measure) hee graunted the King of Cappadociaes request; soliciting him with all instancy, to be the more speedy in assayling Osbech. It was not long, before hee heard of this conjuration made against him; and therefore hee speedily mustered up all his forces, ere he would be encompassed by two such potent kings, and marched on to meete the King of Cappadocia, leaving his Ladie and Wife (for her safety) at Lajazzo, in the custodie of a true and loyall Servant of his.

Within a short while after, he drew neere the Campe belonging to the King of Cappadocia, where boldly he gave him battell; chancing therein to be slaine, his Army broken and discomfited, by meanes whereof, the King of Cappadocia remaining Conquerour, marched on towardes Lajazzo, every one yeelding him obeysance all the way as he went. In the meane space, the servant to Osbech, who was named Antiochus, and with whom the faire Ladie was left in guard; although hee was aged, yet seeing shee was so extraordinarily beautifull, he fell in love with her, forgetting the solemne vowes he had made to his master. One happinesse he had in this case to helpe him, namely, that he understood and could speake her Language: a matter of no meane comfort to her, who constrainedly had lived divers yeeres together, in the state of a deafe or dumbe Woman, because every where else they understoode her not, nor shee them, but by shewes and signes.

This benefite of familiar conference, beganne to embolden his hopes, elevate his courage, and make him seeme more youthfull in his owne opinion, then any ability of body could speake unto him, or promise him in the possession of her, who was so farre beyond him, and so unequall to be enjoyed by him; yet to advance his hopes a great deale higher, Newes came, that Osbech was vanquished and slaine, and that Bassano made every where havocke of all: whereon they concluded together, not to tarrie there any longer, but storing themselves with the goods of Osbech, secretly they departed thence to Rhodes. Being: g seated there in some indifferent abiding, it came to passe, that Antiochus fell into a deadly sickenesse, to whom came a Cyprian Merchant, one much esteemed by him, as beeing an intimate friend and kinde acquaintance, and in whom hee reposed no small confidence. Feeling his sickenesse to encrease more and more upon him dayly, hee determined, not onely to leave such wealth as hee had to this Merchant, but the faire Lady likewise. And calling them both to his beds side, he spake in this manner.

Deere Love, and my most worthily respected friend, I perceive plainly and infallibly, that I am drawing neere unto my end, which much discontenteth me; because my hope was to have lived longer in this world, for the enjoying of your kinde and most esteemed company. Yet one thing maketh my death very pleasing and welcome to me; namely, that lying thus in my bed of latest comfort in this life, I shall expire and finish my course, in the armes of those two persons, whome I most affected in all this world, as you my ever-deerest friend, and you faire Lady, whom (since the very first sight of you) I loved and honoured in my soule. Irkesome and verie greevous it is to me, that (if I dye) I shall leave you here a stranger, without the counsaile and helpe of any bodie: and yet much more offensive would it become, if I had not such a friend as you heere present, who (I am faithfully perswaded) will have the like care and respect of her (even for my sake) as of my selfe, if time had allotted my longer tarrying here. And therefore (worthy friend) most earnestly I desire you, that if I dye, all mine affaires and she may remaine to your trustie care, as being (by my selfe) absolutely commended to your providence, and so to dispose both of the one and other, as may best agree with the comfort of my soule. As for you (choice beauty) I humbly entreate, that after my death you would not forget me, to the end, I may make my vaunt in another world, that I was affected here by the fairest Lady that ever Nature framed. If of these two things you will give mee assurance, I shall depart from you with no meane comfort.

The friendly Merchant, and likewise the Ladie, hearing these words, wept both bitterly: and after hee had given over speaking, kindely they comforted him, with promises and solemne Vowes, that if hee dyed, all should be performed which hee had requested. Within a short while after, he departed out of this life, and they gave him verie honourable buriall, according to that Country custome. Which being done, the Merchant dispatching all his affaires at Rhodes, was desirous to returne home to Cyprus, in a Carracke of the Catelans then there being: mooving the Ladie in the matter, to understand how shee stoode enclined, because urgent occasions called him thence to Cyprus. The Lady made answere, that shee was willing to passe thither with him, hoping for the love hee bare to deceased Antiochus, that hee would respect her as his Sister. The Merchant was willing to give her any contentment, but yet resolved her, that under the title of being his Sister, it would be no warrant of securitie to them both. Wherefore, hee rather advised her, to stile him as her husband, and he would terme her his Wife, and so hee should be sure to defend her from all injuries whatsoever.

Being aboord the Carrack, they had a Cabine and small bed conveniently allowed them, where they slept together, that they might the better be reputed as man and wife; for, to passe otherwise, would have beene very dangerous to them both. And questionlesse, their faithfull promise made at Rhodes to Antiochus, sickenesse on the Sea, and mutuall respect they had of each others credit, was a constant restraint to all wanton desires, and a motive rather to incite Chastitie, then otherwise, and so (I hope) you are perswaded of them. But howsoever, the windes blewe merrily, the Carracke sayled lustily, and (by this time) they are arrived at Baffa, where the Cyprian Merchant dwelt, and where shee continued a long while with him, no one knowing otherwise, but that shee was his wife indeede. Now it fortuned, that there arrived also at the same Baffa (about some especiall occasions of his) a Gentleman whose name was Antigonus, well stept into yeeres, and better stored with wisedome then wealth: because by medling in many matters, while hee followed the service of the King of Cyprus, Fortune had beene very adverse to him. This ancient Gentleman, passing (on a day) by the house where the Lady lay, and the Merchant being gone about his bussinesse into Armenia: hee chanced to see the Lady at a window of the house, and because shee was very beautifull, he observed her the more advisedly, recollecting his sences together, that (doubtlesse) he had seene her before, but in what place hee could not remember. The Lady her selfe likewise, who had so long time beene Fortunes tennis ball, and the terme of her many miseries drawing now neere an ending: began to conceive (upon the very first sight of Antigonus) that she had formerly seene him in Alexandria, serving her Father in place of great degree. Heereupon, a sodaine hope perswaded her, that by the advice and furtherance of this Gentleman, shee should recover her wonted Royall condition: and opportunity now aptly fitting her, by the absence of her pretended Merchant-husband, shee sent for him, requesting to have a few words with him.

When he was come into the house, she bashfully demanded of him, if he was not named Antigonus of Famagosta, because she knew one like him so called? He answered that he was so named: saying moreover, Madam me thinkes I should know you, but I cannot remember where I have seene you, wherefore I would entreat (if it might stand with your good liking) that my memory might be quickned with better knowledge of you. The Lady perceiving him to be the man indeed, weeping incessantly, she threw her armes about his necke, and soone after asked Antigonus (who stood as one confounded with mervaile) if he had never seene her in Alexandria? Upon these words, Antigonus knew her immediately to be Alathiella, daughter to the great Soldane, who was supposed (long since) to be drowned in the Sea: and offering to do her such reverence as became him, she would not permit him, but desired that he would bee assistant to her, and willed him also to sit downe awhile by her.

A goodly chaire being brought him, in very humble maner he demanded of her, what had become of her in so long a time, because it was verily beleeved throughout all Egypt, that she was drowned in the Sea. I would it had bin so, answered the Lady, rather then to leade such a life as I have done; and I thinke my Father himselfe would wish it so, if ever he should come to the knowledge thereof. With these words the teares rained downe her faire cheekes: wherefore Antigonus thus spake unto hir. Madam, discomfort not your selfe before you have occasion; but (if you be so pleased) relate your passed accidents to me, and what the course of your life hath bene: perhaps, I shall give you such friendly advice as may stand you insted, and no way be injurious to you.

Fetching a sighe, even as if her heart would have split in sunder, thus she replyed.

Ah Antigonus, me thinkes when I looke on thee, I seeme to behold my royall Father, and therefore mooved with the like religious zeale and charitable love, as in duty I owe unto him: I wil make known to thee, what I rather ought to conceale and hide from any person living. I know thee to be honourable, discreete, and truely wise, though I am a fraile, simple, and weake woman, therefore I dare discover to thee, rather then any other that I know, by what strange and unexpected misfortunes I have lived so long obscurely in the world. And if in thy great and grave judgement (after the hearing of my many miseries) thou canst any way restore me to my former estate, I pray thee do it: but if thou perceive it impossible to be done, as earnestly likewise I entreate thee, never to reveale to any living person, that either thou hast seene mee, or heard any speech of me. After these words, the teares still streaming from her faire eyes, she recounted the whole passage of her rare mishappes, even from her shipwracke in the sea of Majorica, untill that very instant houre; speaking them in such harsh manner as they hapned, and not sparing any jot of them.

Antigonus being mooved to much compassion, declared how hee pitied her by his teares; and having bene silent an indifferent while, as considering in this case what was best to be done, thus he began. Madam, seeing you have past through such a multitude of misfortunes, yet undiscovered, what and who you are: I will render you as blamelesse to your Father, and estate you as fairely in his love, as at the houre when you parted from him, and afterward make you wife to the King of Colchos. Shee demanding of him, by what meanes possibly this could be accomplished, breefely he made it knowne to her, how, and in what manner he would performe it.

To cut off further tedious circumstances, forthwith he returned to Famagosta, and going before the King of the country, thus he spake to him. Sir, you may (if so you will be pleased) in an instant, do me an exceeding honor, who have bene impoverished by your service, and also a deed of great renowne to your selfe, without any much matter of expence and cost. The King demanding how? Antigonus thus answered. The faire daughter of the Soldane, so generally reported to be drowned, is arrived at Baffa, and to preserve her honor from blemishing, hath suffered many crosses and calamities: being at this instant in very poore estate, yet desirous to revisite her father. If you please to send her home under my conduct, it will be great honour to you, and no meane benefite to me: which kindnesse will for ever be thankfully remembred by the Soldan.

The King in royall magnificence, replied sodainly, that he was highly pleased with these good tydings; and having sent honorably for hir from Baffa, with great pompe she was conducted to Famagosta, and there most graciously welcommed both by the King and Queene, with solemne triumphes, bankets, and revelling, performed in most Majesticke manner. Being questioned by the King and Queene, concerning so large a time of strange misfortunes: according as Antigonus had formerly enstructed her, so did she shape the forme of her answers, and satisfied (with honor) all their demands. So, within few daies after, upon her earnest and instant request, with an honourable traine of Lords and Ladies, shee was sent thence, and conducted all the way by Antigonus, untill she came unto the Soldans Court.

After some few dayes of her reposing there, the Soldan was desirous to understand, how she could possibly live so long in any Kingdome or Province whatsoever, and yet no knowledge to be taken of her? The Lady, who perfectly retained by heart, and had all her lessons at her fingers ends, by the warie instruction which Antigonus had given her, answered her father in this manner. Sir, about the twentieth day after my departure from you, a very terrible and dreadfull tempest overtooke us, so that in dead time of the night, our ship being split in sunder upon the sands, neere to a place called Varna, what became of all the men that were aboord, I neither know, nor ever heard of. Onely I remember, then when death appeared, and I being recovered from death to life, certaine Pezants of the Countrey, comming to get what they could finde in the ship so wrackt, I was first (with two of my women) brought and set safely on the shore.

No sooner were we there, but certaine rude shagge-haird villaines set upon us, carrying away from me both my women, then haling me along by the haire of my head: neither teares or intercessions could draw any pitty from them. As thus they dragd me into a spacious Wood, foure horsemen on a sodaine came riding by, who seeing how dishonourably the villaines used me, rescued me from them, and forced them to flight. But the foure horsemen, seeming (in my judgement) to bee persons of power and authority, letting them go, came to me; urging sundry questions to me, which neither I understood, or they mine answeres. After many deliberations held among themselves, setting me upon one of their horses, they brought me to a Monasterie of religious women, according to the custome of their Law: and there, whatsoever they did or sayde, I know not, but I was most benignely welcommed thither, and honoured of them extraordinarily; where (with them in Devotion) I dedicated my selfe to the Goddesse of chastity, who is highly reverenced and regarded among the women of that Countrey, and to her religious service they are wholly addicted.

After I had continued some time among them, and learned a little of their language; they asked me, of whence, and what I was. Reason gave me so much understanding, to be fearefull of telling them the trueth, for feare of expulsion from among them, as an enemy to their Law and Religion: wherefore I answered (according as necessitie urged) that I was daughter to a Gentleman of Cyprus who sent me to bee married in Candie; but our fortunes (meaning such as had the charge of me) fell out quite contrary to our expectation, by losses, shipwracke, and other mischances; adding many matters more beside, onely in regard of feare, and yeelding obediently to observe their customes.

At length, she that was in cheefest preheminence among these Women (whom they termed by the name of their Ladie Abbesse) demaunded of mee, whether I was willing to abide in that condition of life, or to returne home againe into, Cyprus. I answerd, that I desired nothing more. But shee, being very carefull of mine honour, would never repose confidence in any that came for Cyprus, till two honest Gentlemen of France who hapned thither about two moneths since, accompanied with their wives, one of them being a neere kinswoman to the Lady Abbesse. And she well knowing, that they travelled in pilgrimage to Jerusalem, to visite the holy Sepulcher, where (as they beleeve) that he whom they held for their God was buried, after the jewes had put him to death; recommended me to their loving trust, with especiall charge, for delivering mee to my Father in Cyprus. What honourable love and respect I found in the company of those Gentlemen and their Wives, during our voyage backe to Cyprus, the historie would be overtedious in reporting, neither is it much materiall to our purpose, because your demaund is to another end.

Sayling on prosperously in our Ship, it was not long before we arrived at Baga, where being landed, and not knowing any person, neither what I should say to the Gentlemen, who onely were carefull for delivering me to my Father, according as they were charged by the reverend Abbesse: it was the will of heaven doubtlesse (in pitty and compassion of my passed disasters) that I was no sooner come on shore at Baffa, but I should there haply meet with Antigonus, whom I called unto in our Country language because I would not be understood by the Gentlemen nor their wives, requesting him to acknowledge me as his daughter. Quickly he apprehended mine intention, accomplishing what requested, and (according to his poore power) most bounteously feasted the Gentlemen and their wives, conducting me to the King of Cyprus, who received me royally, and sent me home to you with so much honour, as I am no way able to relate. What else retnaineth to be said, Antigonus who hath oft heard the whole story of my misfortunes, at better leysure will report.

Antigonus then turning to the Soldan, saide: My Lord, as shee hath often told me, and by relation both of the Gentlemen and their wives, she hath delivered nothing but truth. Onely shee hath forgotten somewhat worth the speaking, as thinking it not fit for her to utter, because indeed it is not so convenient for her. Namely, how much the Gentlemen and their wives (with whom she came) commended the rare honesty and integrity of life, as also the unspotted vertue wherein shee lived among those chaste religious women, as they constantly (both with teares and solemne protestations) avouched to me, when kindly they resigned their charge to me. Of all which matters, and many more beside, if I should make discourse to your Excellencie; this whole day, the night ensuing, and the next daies full extendure, are not sufficient to acquaint you withall. Let it suffice then that I have said so much, as (both by the reports, and mine owne understanding) may give you faithfull assurance, to make your Royall vaunt, of having the fairest, most vertuous, and honest Lady to your daughter, of any King or Prince whatsoever.

The Soldane was joyfull beyond all measure, welcomming both him and the rest in most stately manner, oftentimes entreating the Gods very heartily, that he might live to requite them with equall recompence, who had so graciously honored his daughter: but above all the rest, the King of Cyprus, who sent her home so Majestically. And having bestowne great gifts on Antigonus, within a few dayes after, hee gave him leave to returne to Cyprus: with thankfull favours to the King as well by Letters, as also by Ambassadours expressely sent, both from himselfe and his Daughter.

When as this businesse was fully finished, the Soldane, desiring to accomplish what formerly was intended and begun, namely, that she might be wife to the King of Colchos; hee gave him intelligence of all that had happened; writing moreover to him, that (if he were so pleased) he wold yet send her in Royall manner to him. The King of Colchos was exceeding joyfull of these glad tydings, and dispatching a worthy traine to fetch her, she was conveyed thither very pompously, and she who had bene imbraced by so many, was received by him as an honest Virgin, living long time after with him in much joy and felicity. And therefore it hath bene saide as a common Proverbe: The mouth well kist comes not short of good Fortune, but is still renewed like the Moone.