THE FIFTY-THIRD NOUELL.

_The loue of Amadour and Florinda: wherein be conteined mani

sleightes and dissimulations, together with the renowmed chastitie

of the said Florinda._

In the Countie of Arande, in Aragon, a region in Spaine, there

was a Ladie whiche in the best time of her youth, continued the

widow of the Earle of Arande, with one sonne, and one daughter,

called Florinda. The sayde Lady brought vp her children in all

vertue and honestie, meete and conuenable for Lordes and

Gentlemen, in such sorte, as her house was renowmed to be one of

the most honorable in all the Region of Spaine. Many times she

repaired to Tolledo, where the kinge of Spaine helde his Court,

and when she came to Sarragosa, which was harde adioyning to the

court, she continued long with the Queene, and in the Courte,

where she was had in so good estimation as any Lady might be.

Vpon a time going towardes the king, according to her custome,

which was at Sarragosa, in his castle of Iafferie, this Lady

passed by a village that belonged to the Viceroy of Catalongne,

who still continued vppon the frontiers of Parpignon, for the

great warres that were betwene the Frenche king and him.

Howebeit, at that time peace being concluded, the Viceroy with

all his captaines were come to do reuerence to the king. The

Viceroy knowing that the Countesse of Arrande did passe through

his countrie, went to mete her, as well for auncient amitie, as

for the honor he bare vnto her being allied to the kyng. Nowe

this Viceroy had in his companye diuers honest Gentlemen, whiche

through the frequentation and continuance of the long warres,

had gotten suche honour and fame, as euery man that might see

them and behold them did accompt them selues happy. But amonges

all other, there was one called Amadour, who although he was but

XVIII. or XIX. yeares of age, yet he had such an assured grace

and witte so excellent, as he was demed amongs a thousand

persones worthy to haue the gouernement of a common wealth,

whiche good witte was coupled with maruellous naturall beautie,

so that there was no eye, but did content it self eftsones to

beholde hym. And this beautie so exquisite, was associated with

wonderfull eloquence, as doubtfull to say, whether merited

greatest honor, either his grace and beautie, or his excellent

tongue. But that which brought him into best reputation, was his

great hardinesse, whereof the common reporte and brute was

nothing impeached or staied for all his youth. For in so many

places he shewed his chiualrie, as not only Spain but Fraunce

and Italie, did singularly commend and set forth his vertue:

bicause in all the warres wherin he was present, he neuer spared

him self for any daunger. And when his countrie was in peace and

quiet, he sought to serue in straunge places, being loued and

estemed both of his frendes and enemies. This Gentleman for the

loue of his Captaine was come into that countrey, where was

arriued the Countesse of Arande, and in beholding the beautie

and good grace of her daughter, which was not then past XII.

yeres of age, he thought that she was the fairest and most

vertuous personage that euer he sawe: and that if he could

obtaine her good will, he should be so well satisfied as if he

had gained all the goods and pleasures of the worlde. And after

he had a good whyle viewed her, for all the impossibilitie that

reason could deuise to the contrary, he determined to loue her,

although some occasion of that impossibilitie might ryse through

the greatnesse of the house wherof she came, and for want of age

which was not able as yet to vnderstande the passions of loue.

But against the feare thereof he was armed with good hope,

persuading himselfe, that time and patience would bring happie

ende to his trauayle: and from that time gentle Loue whiche

without any other occasion than by his own force was entred the

harte of Amadour, promised him fauour and helpe by all meanes

possible to attaine the same. And to prouide for the greatest

difficultie, which was the farre distance of the countrie wher

he dwelt, and the small occasion that he had thereby any more to

see Florinda, he thought to marry against his determination made

with the ladies of Barselone and Parpignon, amonges whom he was

so conuersant by reason of the warres, as he semed rather to be

a Cathelan, than a Castillan, although he wer borne by Tollede,

of a riche and honourable house, yet bicause he was a yonger

brother, he inioyed no great patrimonie or reuenue.

Notwithstanding, loue and fortune seing him forsaken of his

parentes, determined to accomplishe some notable exployt in him,

and gaue him (by meanes of his vertue) that which the lawes of

his countrey refused to geue. He had good experience in factes

of warre, and was so well beloued of al Princes and Rulers, as

he refused many times their goodes, being resolued not to care

or esteme the benefites of Fortune. The Countesse of whome I

spake, arriued thus at Saragossa, was very well intertained of

the king, and of his whole Court. The Gouernour of Catalogne,

many times came thither to visite her, whom Amadour neuer failed

to accompany, for the onely pleasure he had to talke with

Florinda: and to make himselfe to be knowen in the company, hee

went to Auenturade, whiche was the daughter of an old knight

that dwelt hard by the house, whiche from her youth was brought

vp with Florinda, in such familiar sorte, as she knewe all the

secrets of her harte. Amadour, as well for the honestie that he

found in her, as for the liuing of III.M. ducates by the yeare

which she should haue with her in mariage, determined to geue

her such intertaignement, as one that was disposed to marry her.

Wherunto the gentlewoman did willingly recline her eare: and

bicause he was poore, and the father of the damosell rich, she

thought that her father would neuer accorde to the mariage,

except it were by meanes of the Countesse of Arande. Wherupon

she went to madame Florinda, and saide vnto her: "Madame, you

see this Castillan gentleman, which so oftentimes talketh with

me, I doe beleue that his pretence is to marry me: you do know

what a father I haue, who will neuer geue his consent, if he be

not persuaded therunto by my Lady your mother and you." Florinda

which loued the damosell as her selfe, assured her that shee

would take vpon her to bring that matter to passe, with so

earnest trauaile as if the case were her own. Then Auenturade

brought Amadour before Florinda, who after he had saluted her,

was like to fall in a sowne for ioy, and although he were

compted the moste eloquent persone of Spaine, yet was he now

become mute and dumb before Florinda, wherat she maruelled much:

for albeit she was but XII. yeares of age, yet she vnderstode

that there was no man in Spaine that had a better tongue, or a

more conuenable grace than he. And seing that he said nothing

vnto her, she spake vnto him in this wise: "The fame which is

bruted of you (sir Amadour) throughout the whole countrie of

Spaine, is such as it maketh you knowen and estemed in this

company, and giueth desire and occasion to those that know you,

to imploy themselues to do you pleasure: wherefore if there be

any thing wherin I may gratifie you, vse me I besech you."

Amadour that gased vpon the beautie of that lady, was rapt and

surprised, not well able to render thankes vnto her. And

although Florinda maruelled to see him without aunswere, yet she

imputed it rather to bashfulnesse than to any force of loue, and

departed without further talke. Amadour knowing the vertue which

in so tender yeares began to appeare in Florinda, saide vnto her

whome he purposed to marry: "Doe not maruell, though my speache

do fayle before Madame Florinda, for the vertues and discretion,

hidden in that yonge personage, did so amase mee, as I wiste not

what to saye: but I praye you Auenturade (quod he) who knoweth

all her secretes, to tell me, if it be otherwyse possible, but

that she hath the harte of all the Lordes and Gentlemen of the

Court: for they which know her and doe not loue her, be stones,

or beastes." Auenturade whiche then loued Amadour more than all

the men in the worlde, and would conceale nothing from him, said

vnto him: that Madame Florinda was generally beloued: but for

the custome of the countrie, fewe men did speake unto her. "And

(quod she) as yet I se none that make any semblance of loue vnto

her, but two young Princes of Spaine, which desire to marry her,

whereof the one is the sonne of the Infant Fortune, and the

other of the Duke of Cadouce." "I praye you then (quod Amadour)

to tell me which of them as you think, doth loue her best." "She

is so wise" said Auenturade, "that she will confesse or graunt

her loue to none, but to such as her mother pleaseth. But yet so

far as we can iudge she fauoureth muche better the sonne of the

Infant Fortune, than the Duke of Cadouce: and for that I take

you to be a man of good iudgment, this day you shall haue

occasion to consider the truth: for the sonne of the Infant

Fortune is brought vp in Court, and is one of the goodliest and

perfectest yong Gentlemen in al christendome: and if the mariage

do procede, according to our opinion, which be her women, he

shalbe assured to haue Madame Florinda: and then shalbe ioyned

together the goodliest couple in the world. And you must

vnderstand, that although they be both very yong, she of XII.

yeares of age, and he of XV. yet is there three yeares past

since their loue first began: and if you be disposed aboue other

to obtain her fauour, mine aduise is, that ye become friend and

seruaunt vnto him." Amadour was very ioyfull to heare tell that

his Lady loued some man, trusting that in tyme he should wynne

the place, not of husbande, but of seruaunt: for he feared

nothing at all of her vertue, but a lacke of disposition to

loue. And after this communication, Amadour bent himselfe to

haunt the societie of the sonne of the Infant Fortune, whose

good will he sone recouered, for all the pastimes whiche the

yong Prince loued, Amadour could doe right well: and aboue

other, he was very cunning in riding of horsses, and in handling

al kindes of armes and weapons, and in all other pastimes and

games meete for a yong Gentleman. Warres began in Languedoc, and

Amadour was forced to retire with the Gouernour, to his great

sorrowe and grief, for he had there no meane to returne to the

place where he might se Florinda. For which cause he spake to

his owne brother, whiche was Steward of the king of Spaine's

houshold, and declared vnto him what courtesie he had found in

the house of the Countesse of Arande, and of the damosel

Auenturade: praying him that in his absence he would do his

indeuour, that the mariage might proceede, and that he would

obtaine for him the credit and good opinion of the king and

Queene, and of al his friendes. The Gentleman which loued his

brother, as well by nature's instigation, as for his great

vertues, promised him his trauaile and industrie to the

vttermoste. Which he did in such wise as the old man her father,

nowe forgetting other naturall respect, began to marke and

beholde the vertues of Amadour, which the Countesse of Arande,

and specially faire Florinda, painted and set foorth vnto him,

and likewyse the Yong earl of Arande whiche increased in yeares,

and therewithall in loue of those that were vertuous, and geuen

to honest exercise. And when the mariage was agreed betweene the

parentes, the said Steward sent for his brother whilest the

truce endured betwene the two kings. About this time, the king

of Spain retired to Madric, to auoyd the euil aire that was in

many places, where by the aduise of diuers of his counsell, and

at the request of the Countesse of Arande, he made a mariage

betwene the yong Duchesse the heire of Medina Celi, and the yong

Earle of Arande, as wel for the vnion of their house, as also

for the loue he bare to the said Countesse. And this mariage was

celebrated in the Castell of Madric, whereunto repaired Amadour,

who so well obtained his suite, as he maried her, of whom he was

muche better beloued, than his smal loue toward her deserued,

sauing that it was a couerture and meanes for him to frequent

the place where his minde and delight incessantly remained:

after he was maried, he became well acquainted and familiar in

the house of the Countesse, so that he was so conuersaunt

amonges the Ladies, as if he had bene a woman: and although hee

was then but XXII. yeares of age, he was so wise and graue, as

the Countesse imparted vnto him all her affaires, commaunding

her sonne and daughter to intertayne him, and to credite all

thinges wherein hee gaue counsell. Hauing wonne this great

estimation, he behaued him selfe so wyse and politike, that euen

the partie whiche he loued knewe no parte of his affection: but

by reason of the loue that Florinda bare to the wife of Amadour,

whome shee loued more than any other woman, she was so familiar

with him, as shee dissembled no part of her thought, declaring

vnto him all the loue that she bare the sonne of the Infant

Fortune: and he that desired nothing more than throughly to

winne her, ceassed not from continuance of talke, not caring

whereof he spake, so that he might hold her with long discourse:

Amadour had not after his mariage continued a moneth in that

companie, but was constrained to retire to the warres, where hee

continued more than twoo yeares, without retourne to see his

wife, who still abode in the place where she was brought vp.

During the time, Amadour wrote many letters vnto his wife, but

the chiefest substance therof consisted in commendations to

Florinda, who for her part failed not to render like vnto him,

many times writing some pretie worde or posie with her own hand,

in the letter of Auenturade. Which made her husband Amadour

diligent many times to write again vnto her, but in al this

doing Florinda conceiued nothing, but that he loued her with

such like loue as the brother oweth to the sister. Many times

Amadour went and came, but in the space of fiue yeares he neuer

sawe Florinda twoo monethes together: notwithstanding, Loue in

despite of their distaunce and long absence, ceassed not to

increase: and it chaunced that hee made a voyage home to see his

wyfe, and founde the Countesse farre from the court, bicause the

kyng of Spain was done to Vandelousie, and had taken with him

the yong Earle of Arande, whiche then began to bere armes. The

Countesse was retired to a house of pleasure, which shee had

vpon the frontiers of Arragon and Nauarre, and was right ioyfull

when shee see Amadour, who almoste three yeares had bene absent.

He was very well recieued of euery man, and the countesse

commaunded that he should be vsed and entreated as her howne

sonne. During the time that he soiourned with her, she

communicated vnto him all the affaires of her house, and

committed the greatest trust thereof to his discretion, who wan

such credite in the house as in all places where he liste, the

dores were opened vnto him: whose wysedome and good behauiour

made him to be estemed like a Sainct or Aungell. Florinda, for

the loue and good wyll she bare unto his wyfe and him, made

muche of him in all places where she sawe him: and therfore

tooke no hede vnto his countenaunce, for that her hart as yet

felt no passion, but a certen contentation in her selfe, when

she was in the presence of Amadour, and of any other thing she

thought not. Amadour to auoyde the iudgement of them that haue

proued the difference of Louers countenaunces, was very ware and

circumspect: for when Florinda came to speake vnto hym secretly

(like one that thought no hurt) the fier hydden in his breste,

burned so sore, as he could not staye the blushyng colour of his

face, nor the sparkes whiche flewe out of his eyes: and to the

intent, that through long frequentation, none might espie the

same, he intertaigned a very fayre Ladye called Paulina, a woman

in his tyme accompted so fayre, as fewe men whiche behelde her,

coulde escape her bondes, This Ladye Paulina vnderstanding howe

Amadour vsed his Loue at Barselone and Parpignon, and how he was

beloued of the fayrest Ladies of the Countrie, and aboue all of

the Countesse of Palamons, whiche in beautie was prysed to be

the fayrest in all Spayne, and of many other, sayde vnto hym:

"That shee had great pitie of hym, for that after so manye good

Fortunes, he had maried a wyfe so foule and deformed." Amadour

vnderstanding well by those woordes, that she had desyre to

remedy her owne necessitie, vsed the best maner he coulde

deuise, to the intent that in makyng her beleue a lye, he should

hyde from her the truthe. But shee subtile and well experimented

in Loue, was not contente with talke, but perceyuing well that

his harte was not satisfied with her Loue, doubted that hee

coulde not serue his Lady in secrete wise, and therefore marked

hym so nere, as daylye she had a respecte and watche vnto hys

eyes, whiche hee coulde so well dissemble, as she was able to

iudge nothyng, but by darke suspicion, not without great payne

and difficultie to the Gentleman, to whome Florinda (ignoraunt

of all their malice) dyd resorte many tymes in presence of

Paulina, whose demeaner then was so familiar, as he with

maruellous payne refrayned his lookes against his harte and

desire: and to auoyde that no inconuenience should ensue, one

daye speaking to Florinda, as they were both leaning at a

wyndow, sayd these words: "Madame, I beseche you to tell mee

whether it is better to speake or to die." Whereunto Florinda

answered readily, saying, "I will euer geue councell to my

frendes to speake and not to dye: for there be fewe wordes

spoken but that they may be amended, but the life lost cannot be

recouered." "Promise me then" said Amadour, "that not onely ye

will accept those wordes which I will say, but also not to be

astonned or abashed, till ye haue heard the end of my tale." To

whom she aunswered: "Say what it please you, for if you do

affray me none other shall assure me." Then he began to saye

vnto her: "Madame, I haue not yet bene desirous to disclose vnto

you the great affection which I beare you, for twoo causes: the

one, bicause I attend by my long seruice, to shewe you the

experience thereof: the other, for that I doubted you would

thinke a great presumption in me (which am but a poore

gentleman) to insinuate my selfe in place whereof I am not

worthy: and although I were a Prince as you be, the loyaltie yet

of your harte, will not permitte any other, but him which hath

already taken possession (the sonne I meane of the Infant

Fortune) to vse in talke any matter of loue: but Madame, like as

necessitie in time of great warr constraineth men to make hauoke

of their owne goodes, and to consume the greene corne, that the

enemy take no profit and reliefe thereof, euen so doe I hazard

to aduaunce the frute, which in time I hope to gather, that your

enemies and mine may inioye thereof none aduauntage. Knowe ye

Madame, that from the time of your tender yeares, I haue in such

wyse dedicated my selfe to your seruice as I ceasse not still to

aspire the meanes to achieue your grace and fauour: and for that

occasion, I did marry her whome I thought you did loue best: and

knowing the loue you beare to the sonne of the Infant Fortune,

I haue indeuoured to serue him as you haue sene: and that

wherein I thought you dyd delighte, I haue accomplished to the

vttermoste of my power. You doe see that I haue gotten the good

wil of the Countesse your mother, of the Earle your brother, and

of all those that doe beare you good wyll: in sutche sorte as in

this house I am estemed, not like a seruaunt, but as a sonne:

and all the labour whiche I haue sustayned these fiue yeares

past, was for none other cause, but to lyue all the daies of my

life with you: and vnderstand you wel that I am none of those

whiche by these meanes doe pretende to receiue of you anye

profite or pleasure, other than that which is good and vertuous:

I do know that I can neuer marrie you, and if I could I would

not for letting the loue that you beare vnto him, whom I desire

to be your husbande, likewise to loue you in vicious sorte, like

them that hope to recompence their seruice with dishonour of

their Ladies, I am so farre of from that affection, as I had

rather be dead than to see you by desert worthy of lesse loue,

and that your vertue shoulde by any meanes be diminished for any

pleasure that might happen vnto mee. I do pretend and craue for

the ende and recompence of my service, but one thing: which is,

that you will continue my loyall and faithfull maistresse, neuer

to withdrawe from me your wonted grace and fauour, and that you

will maintaine mee in that estate wherein I am. Reposinge your

trust and fidelitie in me more than in any other, making your

selfe so assured of me, as if for your honor or any cause

touching your person, you stand in neede of the life of a

Gentleman, the same shal right willingly be employed at your

commaundement: in like maner all thinges vertuous and honest

which euer I shal attempt I beseech you to thinke to be done

onely for the loue of you: and if I haue done for Ladies of

lesse reputacion than you be, any thing worthy of regard, be

assured that for such a maistresse as you be, my enterprises

shal increase in such sort, as the things which I found

difficult and impossible, shall be easelie for me to

accomplishe; but if you do not accept mee to be wholy yours,

I determine to giue ouer armes, and to renounce valiaunce,

because it hath not succoured me in necessitie: wherfore,

Madame, I humblie beseech you that my iust request may not be

refused, sith with your honour and conscience you cannot well

denie the same." The yong Lady hearing this vnaccustomed sute,

began to chaunge her colour, and to caste downe her eyes like an

amased woman, notwithstandinge, being wyse and discrete she said

vnto him: "If (Amadour) your request vnto me be none other than

you pretende, wherefore have you discoursed this long Oration?

I am afraid lest vnder this honeste pretence there lurketh some

hidden malice to deceiue the ignoraunce of my youth, wherby I am

wrapt in great perplexitie how to make you aunswere: for to

refuse the honest amitie which you haue offered, I shall doe

contrary to that I haue done hitherto, for I haue reposed in you

more trust than in any liuing creature: my conscience or mine

honour cannot gainesay your demaunde, nor the loue that I beare

to the sonne of the Infant Fortune, which is grounded vpon fayth

of mariage: where you say that you pretende nothinge but that is

good and vertuous, I cannot tell what thing should let me to

make you aunswere according to your request, but a feare that I

conceiue in hart, founded vpon the small occasion that you haue

to vse that speache, for if you haue alreadye what you demaunde,

what doth constraine you to speake so affectuouslie?" Amadour

that was not without an aunsweare, said vnto her: "Madame, you

speake very wisely, and you do me so much honour, for the

confidence and truste which according to your sayinge you do

repose in me, as if I doe not content my selfe with such a

benefite, I were the vnworthiest man aliue: but vnderstande

Madame, that he which goeth about to builde a perpetual mansion,

ought to haue regard to a sure and firme foundacion: wherfore I

which desire perpetually to remaine your seruaunte, doe seeke

not onely the meanes to kepe my selfe neare about you, but also

to foresee that none doe vnderstand the great affection that I

do beare you: for although my mind be so vertuous and honest, as

the same may disclose it selfe before the whole worlde, yet

there bee some so ignorant and vnskilfull of louers harts, as

manye times will iudge contrary to trouth, wherof proceedeth so

ill brute and report, as if the effectes were wicked: the cause

which hath made me so bold to say and declare vnto you thus

much, is the suspicion that Paulina hath conceyued, for that I

cannot loue her: who doth nothing els but marke and espie my

countenaunce in euerye place, and when you vse your familiar

talke with me before her, I am so afraide to shewe any signe

whereby shee maye grounde or verifie her iudgemente, that I fall

into that inconuenience, which I would willingly auoyde:

wherefore I haue thought good to beseech you (before her and

those which you do know to be so malicious) to refraine from

talkinge with mee so sodainlye, for I had rather dye, than anye

liuinge creature should haue mistrust thereof: and were it not

for the loue which I beare vnto your honour, I had not yet

declared the same vnto you, for I do hold my selfe sufficiente

happy and content of the onely loue and affiaunce that you put

in me, crauing nought els butt the continuance of the same."

Florinda wel satisfyed with this aunswere, began to feele in

harte a further thing to growe than euer she did before: and

hearing the honest reasons alleaged by him, said, that her

honestie and vertue shoulde make aunsweare for her, and

therewithall assented to his demaunde: whereof whether Amadour

were ioyful, Louers neede not doubt: but Florinda credited more

his counsell, than he would haue had her. For shee being

fearefull and timerous, not onely before Paulina, but in all

other places, vsed farre other countenaunce than she was wont to

do: and in this alienation of her former familiarity, she

misliked the conuersation that Amadour had with Paulina, whose

beauty was such, that she could not otherwise beleeue, but that

hee loued her: and Florinda to passe ouer her heauinesse, daily

vsed the company of Auenturade, that began maruelously to be

ialous betweene her husbande and Paulina, whereof shee made

complaint many times to Florinda, who comforted her so well as

shee coulde, like one attached with the same disease: Amadour

coniecturinge by the countenaunce of Florinda, that not onely

shee was estraunged from hym through his former aduertisement,

but also that there was some other displeasure conceyued,

comming vpon a time, from euensong out of the Monasterie, he

sayd vnto her: "Madame, what countenaunce do you make me?" "Such

as I thincke doth please you best," answered Florinda. Then

Amadour suspecting a matter, to know whether it were true, began

to saye: "Madame, I haue so vsed Paulina, as she beginneth to

give ouer her opinion of you." She answered him: "Ye cannot do a

better thing either for your selfe or for me: for in doing your

selfe a pleasure, you do honour vnto me." Amadour iudged by

these words that she thought he toke pleasure to talke of

Paulina, wherewith he became so desperate, as hee could not

forbeare to say vnto her in anger: "Madame, you begin very sone

to torment your seruante: there was neuer paine more greeuous

vnto mee, than to be forced to speake to her whom I loue not:

and sithens al that which I do for your seruice is taken in ill

part, I wil neuer speake againe vnto her, whatsoeuer happen: and

to dissemble mine anger and contentacion, I wil addresse my

selfe to some place hereby, till your fancie be ouer past: but I

hope I shall receiue newes from my captaine, to retourne to the

warres, where I will so longe continue, as you shall well knowe,

that nothing els but you alone doth force me to tarrie here."

And in saying so, without attending for her aunswere, hee

incontinently departed, and shee remayned so sad and pensive as

any woman coulde be: and loue began to shewe his greate force in

such wyse as shee knowing her wrong incessantly, wrote to

Amadour praying him to retourne home, which he did within a few

dayes after that his choler was past, and to tell you what

businesse there was, to interrupte and breake the ialousie

conceiued, it were superfluous: but in the ende, he wanne the

field, so that she promised him, not onely to beleeue that he

loued not Paulina, but also helde her selfe assured that it

should be to him a martirdome intollerable, to speake vnto her

or any other, except it were to do her seruice: after that loue

had vanquished this presente suspicion, and that the two louers

began to take more pleasure in their mutuall talke than euer

they did before: newes came that the king of Spaine was about to

addres his Armie to Saulse, wherfore he that was wont to be

there with the first, was not like now to fayle to augment his

honour: but true it is, that his griefe was presently more

greate, than at other times before, aswell for losinge the

pleasure which he enioyed, as for feare to finde some mutacion

and chaunge at his returne, because he saw Florinda pursued by

great Princes and Lords, and alreadye come to the age of XV.

yeares, and thought that if she were maried in his absence, he

should neuer haue occasion to see her againe, except the

Countesse of Arande would appointe his wyfe to waite vppon her:

for accomplishment wherof he made such frends, as the Countesse

and Florinda promised him, that into what soeuer place she were

maried his wyfe Auenturade should attende vpon her: and although

it was in question that Florinda should be maried into

Portugall, yet determined that his wyfe should neuer forsake

her: and vppon this assuraunce, not without vnspeakeable sorow,

Amadour departed and left his wife with the Countesse. When

Florinda was alone, her seruaunt departed, shee gaue her selfe

to all vertuous life, hopinge thereby to atteine the fame

of a most perfecte Lady, and to be counted worthie the

interteignemente of such a seruaunt. Amadour arriued at

Barsalone, was banqueted and intertayned of the Ladies after the

old maner, but they finding him so altered and chaunged, thought

that Mariage could neuer haue had such power vppon man, as it

had ouer him: for he seemed then to disdaine, what somtime he

greatly desired, and specially the Countesse of Palamons, whom

he derely loued, could deuise by no meanes to make him go alone

home to his lodging: Amadour tarried at Barsalone so little

while as hee coulde, because hee might not come late to the

place where hee purposed to winne and atchiue honour: and being

arriued at Saulse, great and cruell warres were comenced betwene

the two kinges, which I purpose not to recite, ne yet the noble

enterprises done by Amadour, whose fame was bruted aboue the

rest of his companions. The duke of Nagyers arriuinge at

Parpignon, had charge of two thousand men, and prayed Amadour to

be his Lieuetenaunte, who with that hand serued so well, as no

crie was hard in al the skirmishes, other than of Nagyers. It

chaunced that the king of Thunis, which of long time had warre

with the Spaniards, vnderstandinge howe the kinges of Spaine and

Fraunce were together by the eares at Parpignon and Narbonne,

thought that in better time he could not anoye the king of

Spaine: wherefore he sent a great nomber of Foists and other

vessels, to robbe and spoile those frontiers which were ill

guarded and kept: they of Barsalone seing a nomber of Shippes

passe before the Towne, aduertised the king that was at Saulse,

who immediatly sent the Duke of Nagyers to Palamons: and when

the shippes discried that the place was well guarded, they made

as though they would passe further: but about midnight they

retourned, and landed so many men, that the Duke of Nagyers was

taken prisoner. Amadour which was very vigilant, hearing

allarme, presently assembled so many men as he could, and

defended him self so wel, as the force of his enemies a long

time could not hurt him: but in thende knowing that the Duke of

Nagyers was taken prisoner, and that the Turks were determined

to burn the Citie of Palamons, and then to fier the house which

he strongly had forced againste them, hee thought it better to

render himself, than to be cause of the losse of so manye good

souldiors as were vnder his gouernmente, and also by putting

himselfe to raunsome, he hoped in time to come to see Florinda:

then he submitted himselfe to a Turke called Derlyn, the

gouernor of the king of Thunis, who conueyed him home to his

maister, where he was well entertaigned, and better kept: for

they thought that hauing him in their hands, they had gotten the

only Achilles of Spaine. In this sort Amadour continued almost

the space of two yeares, in the seruice of the king of Thunis:

newes came into Spaine of this ouerthrow, wherof the frends of

the Duke of Nagyers, were very sorowfull: but they that loued

the honor of their countrie, thoughte Amadour to bee the

greatest losse, the brute wherof was noysed in the house of the

Countesse of Arande, wher at that time the poore gentlewoman

Auenturade lay very sore sicke. The Countesse suspecting very

much the affection that Amadour bare vnto her daughter, which he

suffered and dissembled for his vertue's sake, called her

daughter aside, and told her the pitious newes. Florinda which

could well dissemble said unto her, that it was a great losse

for al their house, but specially she pitied the state of his

poore wife, because at that time she was so sore sicke. But

seing her mother weepe so bitterly, she let fal some teares to

keepe her company, least through to much dissimulacion her loue

might be discouered. After that time, the Countesse spake to her

many times, but she could neuer perceiue by her countenance, any

cause of certaine suspicion. I will leaue to speake of the

voyages, the prayers, the supplications and fastings, which

Florinda did ordinarily make for the safegard and prosperitie of

Amadour, who incontinently so sone as he was ariued at Thunis,

sent newes to his frends, and by a sure messenger aduertized

Florinda, that he was in good health and hope to retourne. Which

newes was to the poore Lady, the only meanes to releue and ease

her sorow. And doubt ye not, but the meanes of writing, was

vtterly debarred from Amadour, wherof Florinda acquited herself

so diligently, as by her letters and epistles, he receiued great

consolation and comfort. The Countesse of Arande receiued

commaundement from the king to repaire to Saragosa, where hee

that time was arriued. And there she found the yong Duke of

Cardonne making sute to the king and Queene, for mariage of her

daughter. The Countesse vnwilling to disobey the king, agreed,

thinkinge that her daughter being very yonge, had none other

affection, but that which already had taken sure impression.

When the accorde was concluded, shee sayde vnto her daughter,

that she had chosen that matche, as best worthy to ioyne with

her person. Her daughter considering howe in a thing already

done it was to late to take counsell, said vnto her, that God

was to be praised in all things. And seing her mother so far

alienated from her intent, she thought it better to shew her

selfe obedient, than to take pitie vpon herselfe. And to comfort

her in that sorowe, she vnderstode that the infant Fortune was

at the point of death. But before her mother or any other

person, she shewed not so much as one signe or token therof,

strayning her grief so much, as the teares by force retiringe to

her harte, did cause the bloud to issue forth at her Nose, in

such abundance, as her life was in present daunger. And to

recouer her of that disease, shee was maried vnto him, for whose

sake shee had rather haue chaunged her life for present death.

After the mariage, Florinda went wyth her husbande into the

Duchy of Cardonne, and in her company Auenturade, to whom she

secretly made complaint, as wel of her mother's rigor, as also

of the sorow she conceyued for the losse of the sonne of the

Infant Fortune. But of her griefe for Amadour, she spake no

worde, but by way of comforting her. This yong lady then

determined to haue God and the respect of her honoure before her

eies, and so wel to dissemble her griefes, as none at any time

should perceiue that shee misliked her husband. In this sort

Florinda passed long time, in a life no lesse pleasaunt than

death. The report whereof she sent to her good seruaunt Amadour,

who vnderstanding her great loue, and wel disposed hart, and the

loue shee bare to the Infant Fortune, thought that it was

impossible she could liue long, and lamented her state more than

his owne. This griefe augmented his paine of imprisonmente,

wishinge to haue remayned a slaue all the days of his life, so

that Florinda had had a husbande respondent to her desire,

forgettinge his owne griefe by feeling that his frende did

suffer. And because he vnderstode by a secret friend which he

had gotten in the Court of the king of Thunis, that the king was

minded to offer him the gibbet, or els to make him renounce his

fayth, for the desire hee had to retaine him still, and to make

him a good Turke, he behaued himself so well, wyth him that toke

him prisoner, that he gaue him leaue to depart vpon his fayth,

taxing him at so greate raunsome, as he thought a man of so

small substance was neuer able to pay. And so without speaking

to the king his maister, hee let him go vpon his fayth. After he

had shewed himselfe at the Court of the king of Spaine, he

departed incontinently to his frends to get his raunsome, and

went straight to Barsalone, whether the yong Duke of Cardonne,

his mother, and Florinda, was gone aboute certaine affaires.

Auenturade so sone as she heard tell that her husband was come,

declared the same to Florinda, who seemed for her sake greatly

to reioyce therat. But fearing that the desire she had to see

him would make her chaunge countenaunce, and that they which

knew not the cause therof, would conceiue some ill opinion, she

stode still at a window to see him come a far of: and so sone as

she espied him, shee went downe a paire of darke staires that

none mighte perceiue her chaunge of colour. When she had

imbraced Amadour, shee led him into her chamber, and from thence

to her mother in law, which had neuer seene him before. He had

not continued there two dayes, but he was so well beloued, as he

was before in the house of the Countesse of Arande. I will

omitte the words and talke betwene Florinda and Amadour, and the

complaintes which he made vnto her of his ill aduenture, that

hee had sustayned in his absence. And after manye teares vttered

by her, for the heauines she had taken, aswel for the mariage

against her wil, as for the losse of him that she loued so

dearely, and for him whom she thoughte neuer to see againe, shee

determined to take her consolation in the loue and fidelitie

that she bare to Amadour, which notwithstanding she durst not

open and declare: but he that much doubted therof, lost no

occasion and time to let her know and vnderstande the great loue

he bare her. And euen vppon the point that she was ready to

receiue him, not as a seruaunt, but for her assured and perfect

frend, there chaunced a maruellous fortune: for the king, for

certaine matters of importance, incontinently sent forth

Amadour, wherof his wyfe conceyued such sorrow, as hearing those

newes, she souned and fell from the stayres where she stode,

wherewith she hurte herselfe so sore, as neuer after she

reuiued. Florinda (that by the death of her had lost all

comfort) made such sorrow, as one that was destitute of good

frends and kinsfolke, but Amadour toke the same in worst part:

for he had not onely lost one of the most honest women that euer

was, but also the meanes that he should neuer after that time

haue occasion to visit Florinda. For which cause he fell into

such sicknes, as he was like to haue died sodainly. The old

Duchesse of Cardonne, incessantly did visite him, and alledged

many philosophical reasons to make him paciently to receiue

death, bu{t} it auayled nothing: for if death of thone side did

torment him, loue on the other did augment his martirdome.

Amadour seing that his wyfe was buried, and that the king had

sent for him, (hauing no occasion of longer abode there) he

entred into such dispaire, as hee seemed to be oute of his

wittes. Florinda which in comforting him was almost desolate,

remayned by him one whole afternone, vsinge very honest and

discrete talke vnto him, thinking thereby to diminishe the

greatnesse of his sorrowe, and assured him that shee would

deuise wayes how he might visite her more oft than he did thinke

for. And because he must depart the next morning, and was so

feeble and weake that he could not rise from his bed, he

intreated her to come and se him at night after euery man was

retired to bed: which she promised to doe, not knowing that

loue's extremety was voyd of reason. And he that saw no hope

euer after that time to see her againe, whom so long time he had

serued: and of whom he had neuer receyued other interteignment

than that you haue heard, was so beaten and ouercom with loue

long dissembled, and of the despaire he conceiued, that (all

meanes to vse her company taken away) he purposed to play double

or quit, either to lose her, or to win her fauour for euer, and

to pay himself at one instant the rewarde which he thought he

had right wel deserued. Wherfore he caused the curtaines of his

bed to be drawen, that they which came into the chamber mighte

not see him, complayning of sicknes more than he was wont to do,

wherby they of the house thought he would not haue liued XXIV.

houres. After euery one of the house had visited him at night,

Florinda (at the special request of her husband) came to see

him, thinking for his comfort to vtter vnto him her affection,

and how aboue all other she would loue him, so far as her honor

did permit: and sitting downe in a chayre at the bed's head, she

began to comfort him, and therwithal powred out many teares.

Amadour seing her sorowful and pensife, thought that in her

great torment he might easely attaine the effect of his intent,

and lifted himself vp in his bed, which Florinda perceyuing, she

would haue staied him, because she thought that through weakenes

he was not able to moue: and kneeling vpon his knees, he said

vnto her: "Must I for euermore forgo your sight mine owne deare

Lady?" And in saying so he fel downe betwene her armes like one

that fainted for lack of strength. Then poore Florinda imbraced

him, and of long time held him vp, doing all that was possible

for his comfort. But the medecine she gaue him to ease his

sorow, did rather increase the same more strong: for in fayning

himself half dead, without speaking any word, he attempted that

which the honor of womanhode doth defend. When Florinda

perceiued his ill intent, she could scarce beleue the same,

considering his honest requests made before time, and therfore

asked him what it was that he desired. But Amadour fearing to

heare her aunswere which he knew well could be none other but

chaste and vertuous, without further talke, pursued his purpose

so earnestly as he could, wherwith Florinda beinge astonned did

suspect he had bin out of his wittes rather than beleue that he

wente about her dishonor. Wherefore with loude voice she called

a gentleman that was in the chamber. Which Amadour hearing,

vtterly in dispaire, threw himself so sodenly into his bed, as

the gentleman thought he had beene dead. Florinda rising out of

the chaire, said vnto him: "Goe quickly and fetch some good

vineger." Which the gentleman did. Then Florinda began to say

vnto him: "Amadour, what follie hath inchaunted your wisedome?

And what is that which you would haue done unto me?" Amadour

that through the force of loue had lost al reason, said vnto

her: "Doth my long seruice merite a recompence of such cruelty?"

"And wher is the honesty then," said Florinda, "which so many

times you haue preached vnto me?" "Ah, madame!" said Amadour:

"I beleue it is impossible your selfe more faithfully to loue

your owne honour than I do. For when you were vnmaried, I could

so wel subdue my harte and affection, as you did neuer

vnderstand my will and desire. And now that you be maried, to

the intente your honour may reste in couerte, what wrong do I to

aske that which is mine owne, for by force of loue I haue won

you? He that first enioyed your harte, hath so ill followed the

victorie of your bodye, as hee hath well deserued to lose

altogether. He that possesseth your body, is not worthy to haue

your hart, wherefore your body is none of his, ne yet he hath no

title in the same. But I Madame, these fiue or sixe yeares haue

susteyned suche paynes and trauaile for your sake, as you are

not ignoraunt but to me appertayneth both your body and harte,

for whose sake I haue vtterlye forgotten mine owne. And if you

can finde in your hart to defende mee from my right, doubt ye

not but they which haue proued the forces of loue, wil lay the

blame on you, which hath in this sort robbed me from my

libertie, and with your heauenly graces hath obscured my sences,

that not knowing hereafter what to do, I am constrayned to go

without hope for euer to see you againe. Notwithstanding

warrante your selfe, that in what place so euer I am, you shall

still possesse my harte, which shall continue your's for euer,

be I vppon the lande or water, or betweene the hands of my moste

cruell enemies. But if I could recouer before my departure, that

surety of you which the greatnesse of my loue deserueth, I shall

be strong enough paciently to beare the griefes of my long

absence. And if it please you not to graunt me this request, you

shal shortly heare tell that your rigor hath rendred vnto me a

most vnhappy and cruel death." Florinda no lesse astonned than

sorie, to heare such words proceede from him, of whom she neuer

had any such suspicion, weepinge saide unto him: "Alas, Amadour,

is this the meaning of those vertuous words which sithens the

beginning of my youth ye haue vttered vnto me? Is this the honor

of the conscience, which you haue many times perswaded me rather

to die than lose the same? Haue you forgotten the good examples

recited vnto me of vertuous dames that haue resisted foolish

loue? And is this the maner of your contempt of Ladies that were

foolish and vaine, whose light behauiour you dissembled so much

to abhorre? I cannot beleeue Amadour that you are driuen into

such madnes and furie, as the feare of GOD, your owne

conscience, and the estimacion of mine honor, should be

altogether out of your minde and memorie. But if it so be as you

say, I do praise the goodnes of God, which hath preuented the

mishap that nowe I am fallen into, in shewing me by your words,

the hart which I did not know. For hauing lost the sonne of the

Infant Fortune, who not onely is maried into another place, but

also loued another, and I now maried to him, which I cannot

loue, I thought and determined wholly, with all mine hart and

affection to loue you, founding the same vpon that vertue which

I knew to be in you, which loue by your meanes onelye I haue

conceiued, and therfore did more esteeme my honor and

conscience, than the price of mine owne life. Vppon assurance of

this stone of honestie, I am come hither thinking to build a

most sure foundacion. But (Amadour) in one moment thou haste

declared, how in place of a pure foundacion, thy buildinge is

reared vpon a light sand, and vnconstant ground, or els vpon a

filthy and foul quamire. And where I began to erect a good part

of the lodgings of this building vpon the ground of the

fidelitie, hoping to dwel there for euer, sodenly thou hast

ouerthrowen the whole plot. Wherfore, you must immediately

breake in sonder the hope and credit that euermore you haue

found in me, and determine that in what place soeuer I be, not

to pursue me either by worde or countenaunce. And do not thinke,

that I can or will at anye time hereafter chaunge this mine

opinion, reciting this my last adieu with great sorrow and

griefe. But if I had made an othe of this perfect amitie and

loue, I know mine harte would haue died vpon this breach,

although the astonishment in that I am deceiued, is so great, as

I am wel assured it will make my life either short or sorowfull:

and therefore I bid you farewel and that for euer." I purpose

not to tel you the sorow which Amadour felt by hearing those

words, because it is impossible not only to write them, but also

to thincke them, except it be of such as haue had experience of

the like. And seing that vppon this cruel conclusion she would

haue gone away, he caught her by the arme, knowing well that if

he did not remoue that ill opinion, which by his owne occasion

she had conceyued, hee should lose her for euer. Wherfore he

said vnto her with a very faint chere: "Madame, al the dayes of

my life I haue desired to loue a woman endued with honestie and

vertue: and because I haue found so few, I would fain haue tried

whether your person had bin worthy of estimacion and loue,

wherof now I am wel assured, and humblie do praise God

therefore, because mine hart is addressed to such perfection:

beseching you to pardon this fond and bold attempt, sith you see

that the end doth redound to your owne honor and contentacion."

Florinda, which began to know by him the malice of other men,

like as she was hard to beleue the euill wher it was, euen so

she was more difficile to credite the good where it was not, and

said vnto him: "I pray to God your words be true: yet am I not

so ignorant but that the state of mariage wherein I am, hath

made me euidently to know the strong passion of blind loue which

hath forced you vnto this follie: for if God had losed my hande,

I am wel assured you would not haue plucked back the bridle:

they that attempt to seeke after vertue, do not take the way

that you do tread: but this is sufficient if I haue lightly

beleeued any honestie in you, it is time for me now to know the

truth, that I may rid my self from you." And in saying so,

Florinda went out of the chamber, and all the nighte long, she

neuer left weeping, feeling such great griefe in that

alteracion, as her hart had much to do, to sustaine the assaults

of sorrow that loue had made: for although reason thoughte neuer

to loue him againe, yet the hart which is not subiect to our

fancie, would not accord to that crueltie: for which

consideracion, she loued him no lesse than she was wont to do,

and knowing that loue was the cause of that fault, she purposed

for satisfaction of loue, to Loue him with all her hart, and yet

for the obedience and fealtie due to her honor, she thought

neuer to make any semblance. In the morning Amadour departed in

this sort, troubled as you haue hearde, neuerthelesse his

couragious heart centred not in dispaire, but renued a fresh

hope once againe to see Florinda, and to win her fauour: then he

toke his iourney towards the Court of Spaine (which was at

Tolledo) taking his way by the Countesse of Arande, wher late in

an euening he arriued, and found the Countesse verye sicke for

the absence of her daughter Florinda: when shee saw Amadour,

shee kissed and imbraced him, as if he had beene her owne child,

aswel for the loue she bare vnto him, as for the like which she

doubted that he bare to Florinda, of whom very earnestly she

inquired for newes, who tolde her the best that he could deuise,

but not the whole truth, and confessed vnto her the loue

betweene Florinda and him, (which Florinda had still conceiled

and kept secrete) praying her ayde to bring him againe into her

fauour: and so the next morning he departed. And after he had

done his businesse with the Queene, he repayred to the warres,

so sadde and chaunged in all his condicions, as the Ladies,

Captaynes and all they that were wonte to keepe him companie,

did not know him. His apparell was all blacke, mourning for the

death of his wife, wherby he couered the sorrow which was hid in

his hart. In this wyse Amadour passed three or 4 yeres before he

returned to the Court. And the Countesse of Arande which heard

tell that Florinda was so much altered, as it would haue moued

any hart to behold her, sent for her, hoping that she would haue

come, but her expectacion was frustrate, for when Florinda

vnderstode that Amadour had told her mother the good will

betweene them, and that her mother being so wise and vertuous

giuing credite to Amadour, did beleue his report, she was in

marueilous perplexitie, because of the one side she saw that her

mother did esteeme him so well, and on the other side if she

declared vnto her the truth, Amadour woulde conceiue

displeasure: which thing she had rather die than to do:

wherefore she thought herselfe strong inough to chastise him of

his folly, without helpe of frends. Againe, she perceyued that

by dissembling the euil which she knew by him, she should be

constrained by her mother and her frends, to speake and beare

him good countenaunce, wherby she feared he would be the more

encoraged: but seing that he was far of, she passed the lesse of

the matter: and when the Countesse her mother did commaunde her,

she wrote letters vnto him, but they were such as he might wel

gather that they were written rather vpon obedience, than of

good wil, the reading wherof bred sorrow vnto him in place of

that ioye he was wonte to conceiue in her former wrytings.

Within the terme of two or three yeres, after he had done so

many noble enterprises as al the paper of Spaine could not

containe them, he deuised a new inuention, not to wynne and

recouer the harte of Florinda (for he demed the same quite lost)

but to haue the victorie ouer his enemy, sithens she had vsed

him in that sorte, and reiecting al reason and specially feare

of death, into the hazarde wherof he hasted himselfe, he

concluded and determined his enterprise in such sorte, as for

his behauiour towardes the Gouernour, hee was deputed and sent

by him to treate with the king of certaine exploytes to be done

at Locates, sparing not to impart his message to the Countesse

of Aranda, before he told the same to the king, to vse her good

aduise therein: and so came in poste straight into the Countie

of Aranda, where he had intelligence in what place Florinda

remained, and secretly sent to the Countesse one of his frendes

to tell her of his comming, and to pray her to keepe it close,

and that he might speake with her that night in secrete wise

that no man might perceiue: the Countesse very ioyfull of his

comming, tolde it to Florinda, and sent her into her husbande's

chamber, that she might be ready when she should send for her

after eche man was gone to bed. Florinda whiche was not yet well

boldened by reason of her former feare, making a good face of

the matter to her mother, withdrewe her selfe into an oratorie

or chappell, to recommend her selfe to God, praying him to

defend her hart from al wicked affection, and therwithal

considered how often Amadour had praysed her beautie, which was

not impaired or diminished, although she had bene sicke of longe

time before: wherefore thinking it better to doe iniurie to her

beautie by defacing it, than to suffer the harte of so honest a

personage by meanes thereof wickedly to be inflamed, shee tooke

vp a stone which was within the Chappell, and gaue her selfe so

great a blowe on the face that her mouthe, eyes and nose, were

altogether deformed: and to thintent no man might suspect what

she had done, when the Countesse sent for her in going out of

the Chappell, she fell downe vppon a great stone, and

therewithall cried out so loude, as the Countesse came in and

founde her in pitious state, who incontinently dressing her

face, and binding it vp with clothes, conueyed her into her

chamber, and prayed her to goe into her closet to entertaigne

Amadour, tyll she were weary of his companie: whiche she did,

thinking that there had bene somebody with hym: but finding him

alone, and the doore shut vpon her, Amadour was not so well

pleased as she was discontented: who nowe thoughte eyther with

loue or force to get that, whiche hee had so long tyme desyred:

and after he had spoken a fewe woordes vnto her, and found her

in that mynde hee lefte her, and that to dye for it shee woulde

not chaunge her opinion, desperatly he sayde vnto her: "By God

madame, the fruite of my labour shall not be thus taken from me

for scruples and doubtes: and sithe that Loue, pacience, and

humble desires, cannot preuayle, I will not spare by force to

get that, which except I haue it will be the meanes of mine

overthrowe." When Florinda sawe his face and eyes so altered,

and that the fairest die and colour of the world, was become so

red as fier, with his most pleasaunt and amiable loke

transformed into horrible hew and furious, and therewithall

discried the very hote burning fier, to sparkle within his harte

and face: and how in that fury with one of his strong fistes he

griped her delicate and tender hands: and on the other side shee

seeing all her defences to fayle her, and that her feete and

handes were caught in suche captiuitie as she could neither run

away nor yet defend her selfe: knewe none other remedie, but to

proue if he had yet remaining in him any griftes of the former

loue, that for the honour therof he might forget his crueltie.

Wherefore she sayd vnto him: "Amadour, if now you doe accompt me

for an enemy, I besech you for the honestie of the loue which at

other times I haue found planted in your harte, to geue me leaue

to speake before you doe torment me." And when shee saw him

recline his eare, she pursued her talk in this wyse: "Alas,

Amadour, what cause haue you to seke after the thing wherof you

shall receiue no contentation, inflicting vppon me such

displeasure as there can be no greater? you haue many times

proued my wil and affection in the time of my youthfull dayes,

and of my beautie farre more excellent than it is now, at what

tyme your passion might better be borne with and excused, than

nowe: in such wyse as I am nowe amased to see that you haue the

harte to torment me at that age and great debilitie wherewith I

am affected: I am assured that you doubt not but that my wyl and

mind is such as it was wont to be: wherefore you can not obtayne

your demaunde but by force: and if you sawe howe my face is

arrayed, you would forget the pleasure whiche once you conceiued

in me, and by no meanes would forcibly approche nere vnto me:

and if there be lefte in you yet any remnantes of loue, it is

impossible but that pitie may vanquishe your furie: and to that

pitie and honestie whereof once I had experience in you, I do

make my plaint, and of the same I do demaund grace and pardon,

to thintent that according to theffect of your wonted perswasion

and good aduise you may suffer me to liue in that peace and

honestie, which I haue determined and vowed during life: and if

the loue which you haue borne me be conuerted into hatred, and

that more for reuengement than affection, you doe purpose to

make me the moste unhappy of the world, I assure you, you shall

not be able to bryng your intent to passe, besides that you

shall constrayne me against my determination, to vtter and

reueale your villany and disordinate appetite towardes her which

did repose in you an incredible affiance: by discouering

whereof, thinke verely that your lyfe cannot continue without

perill." Amadour breaking her talke sayde vnto her: "If I die

for it, I will presently be acquieted of my torment: but the

deformitie of your face (whiche I thinke was done by you of set

purpose) shall not let me to accomplishe my will: for since I

can get nothing of you but the bones and carcase, I will holde

them so fast as I can." And when Florinda sawe that prayers,

reason, nor teares could not auayle, but that with crueltie he

woulde nedes followe his villanous desire, which she had

hetherto still auoided by force of resistence, she did helpe her

selfe so long, till she feared the losse of her breath, and with

a heauy and piteous voice she called her mother so loud as shee

could crie, who hearing her daughter crie and cal with rufull

voyce, began greatly to feare the thing that was true: wherfore

she ran so fast as she could into the warderobe. Amadour not

being so nere death as he saide he was, left of his holde in

suche good time, as the Ladye opening her closet, founde him at

the dore, and Florinda farre enough from him. The Countesse

demaunded of him, saying: "Amadour what is the matter? tell me

the truthe." Who like one that was neuer vnprouided of excuse,

with his pale face and wanne, and his breath almoste spent,

sayde vnto her: "Alas, madame, in what plight is my lady

Florinda? I was neuer in all my life in that amase wherin I am

now: for as I sayd vnto you, I had thought that I had inioyed

part of her good will, but nowe I know right well that I haue

none at all: I thinke madame, that sithe the time she was

brought vp with you, shee was neuer lesse wise and vertuous than

shee is nowe, but farre more daungerous and squeimishe in

speaking and talking then behoueth, and euen nowe I would haue

loked vpon her, but she would not suffer me: and when I viewed

her countenaunce, thinking that it had bene some dreame or

vision, I desired to kisse her hande, according to the fashion

of the countrey, which shee vtterly refused. True it is Madame,

I haue offended her, wherof I craue pardon of you, but it

chaunced only for that I toke her by the hand, which I did in a

maner by force, and kissed the same demaunding of her no other

pleasure: but she like one (as I suppose) that hath sworne my

death, made an outcry for you (as you haue hearde) for what

cause I know not, except that shee were afraide I would haue

forced some other thing: notwithstanding Madame, whatsoeuer the

matter be, I protest vnto you the wrong is myne, and albeit that

she ought to loue al your honest seruaunts, yet fortune so

willeth as I alone, the moste affectioned of them all, is

clerely exempt out of her fauour: and yet I purpose still to

continue towardes you and her, the same man I came hither,

beseching the continuance of your good grace and fauour, sithens

that without desert I haue loste hers." The Countesse which

partely beleued, and partelye mistrusted his talke, went vnto

her daughter, and demaunded wherfore she cried out so loud.

Florinda answered that she was afrayde: and albeit the Countesse

subtilly asked her of many things, yet Florinda would neuer make

other answere, for that hauing escaped the handes of her enemy,

she thought it punishement enough for him to lose his labour:

after that the Countesse had of long tyme communed with Amadour,

she lefte him yet once againe to enter in talke with Florinda

before her, to see what countenaunce shee would make him. To

whom he spake fewe wordes except they were thankes for that she

had not confessed the truthe to her mother, praying her at least

wise that seing he was dispossessed out of her hart, she would

suffer none other to receiue his place: but she answering his

former talke, saide: "If I had had any other meanes to defend my

selfe from you than by crying out, she should neuer haue heard

me, and of me you shall neuer heare worse, except you doe

constrayne me as you haue done, and for louing any other man,

you shall not neede to feare: for sithe I haue not found in your

harte (which I estemed the most vertuous in all the world) the

good successe that I desired, I wyll neuer beleue hereafter that

vertue is planted in any man. And this outrage shall make me

free from all passions that Loue can force." And in saying so

she tooke her leaue. The mother which behelde her countenaunce,

could suspecte nothing, and after that tyme, shee was persuaded

that her daughter bare no more affection to Amadour, and thought

assuredly that she was voyde of reason, because she hated al

those things which she was wont to loue: and from that time

forth there was such warre betwene the mother and the daughter,

as the mother for the space of VII. yeares would not speake vnto

her, except it were in anger: which she did at the request of

Amadour: during which time, Florinda conuerted the misliking of

her husband, into mere and constant loue, to auoyde the rigour

and checkes of her mother: howbeit, seing that nothing could

preuayle, she purposed to beguile Amadour, and leauing for a day

or two her straunge countenance towards him, she counselled

Amadour to loue a woman, whiche as she sayd, did commonly

dispute and talke of their loue. This lady dwelt with the Queene

of Spaine, and was called Lorette, who was very ioyfull and glad

to get such a seruant: and Florinda founde meanes to cause a

brute of this newe loue to be spred in euery place, and

specially the Countesse of Arande (being at the Court) perceiued

the same, who afterwards was not so displeased with Florinda, as

she was wont to be: Florinda vpon a tyme heard tel that a

Captain the husband of Loret, began to be ialous ouer his wife,

determining by some meanes or other, he cared not howe, to kill

Amadour. Florinda notwithstanding her dissembled countenance,

could not suffer any hurt to be done to Amadour, and therefore

incontinently gaue him aduertisement thereof: but he retourning

againe to his former follies, answered, that if it would please

her to intertaigne him euery day three houres, he would neuer

speake againe to Lorette, whereunto by no meanes shee would

consent. Then Amadour saide vnto her: "If you will not haue me

to liue, wherefore go ye about to defend me from death? except

ye purpose to torment me aliue with greater extremitie then a

thousand deathes can do: but for so much as death doth flie from

me, I will neuer leaue to seeke him out, by whose approche only

I shall haue rest." Whilest they were in these tearmes, newes

came that the kyng of Granado was about to enter into great

warres against the king of Spain: in suche wyse as the king sent

against hym the Prince his sonne, and with hym the constable of

Castile, and the Duke of Albe, twoo auncient and sage Lordes.

The duke of Cardonne and the counte of Arande not willing to

tarie behinde, besought the kyng to geue eyther of them a

charge: whiche hee did according to the dignitie of their

houses, appointing Amadour to be their guide: who during that

warre, did sutche valiaunt factes as they seemed rather to be

desperately than hardily enterprysed: and to come to the effect

of this discourse, his great valiaunce was tryed euen to the

death: for the Moores making a bragge as though they would geue

battayle, when they sawe the army of the Christians,

counterfaited a retire, whome the Spaniardes pursued, but the

olde Constable and the duke of Albe doubting their pollicie,

stood still, against the will of the Prince of Spaine, not

suffering him to passe ouer the Ryuer, but the counte of Arande

and the Duke of Cardonne, (although they were countremanded) did

followe the chase, and when the Moores sawe that they were

pursued with so small a number, they returned, and at one

recountrie kylled the Duke of Cardonne, and the Counte of Arande

was so sore hurte as hee was lefte for dead in the place.

Amadour arriuing vpon this ouerthrowe, inuaded the battayle of

the Moores with sutche rage and furie, as hee rescued the twoo

bodyes of the Duke and Countie, and caused them to be conueyed

to the Prince's campe, who so lamented their chaunce, as if they

had bene his owne brethren: but in searching their woundes, the

Countie of Arande was founde to be aliue, and was sent home to

his own house in a horselitter, where of long time he was sicke,

and likewise was conueied to Cardonne the dead bodie of the yong

Duke. Amadour in rescuing those two bodies, tooke so little

heede to him selfe, as he was inclosed with a great number of

the Moores, and because he would bee no more taken, as well to

verifie his faith towardes God, as also his vowe made to his

Lady, and also considering that if he were prysoner to the kyng

of Granado, either hee should cruelly be put to death, or els

forced to renounce his faith, he determined not to make his

death or taking glorious to his enemies: wherefore kissing the

crosse of his sworde, and rendring his body and soule to the

handes of almighty God, he stabbed him selfe into the body with

sutche a blow, as there neded no second wound to rid him of his

life: in this sorte died poore Amadour, so muche lamented as his

vertues did deserue. The newes hereof was bruted throughout

Spaine, and came to Florinda who then was at Barselone, where

her husbande in his life tyme ordeined the place of his buriall:

and after shee had done his honourable obsequies, without making

her own mother, or mother in law priuie, she surrendred her

selfe into the monasterie of Iesus, there to liue a religious

life, receiuing him for her husband and friende, whiche had

deliuered her from the vehement loue of Amadour, and from a

displeasaunt life so great and vnquiet as was the company of her

husband. In this wise she conuerted all her affections, to

pietie and the perfit loue of God, who after she had long time

liued a religious life, shee yelded vp her soule in such ioye as

the Bridegrom doth when he goeth to visite his spowes.

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