THE SIXTY-SECOND NOUELL.

_The honest and maruellous loue of a mayden of noble house, and of a

gentleman that was base borne, and howe a Queene did impeche and let

their mariage, with the wise aunswere of the mayde to the Queene._

There was in Fraunce a Queene, who in her company and traine

broughte vp many maydens, that were issued of great and

honourable progenie: amonges other that serued this Queene there

was one named Rolandine, which was nere kinne to the Queene. But

she for a certaine displeasure conceyued against her father,

bare vnto the yonge gentlewoman no greate good will. This

Maiden, although shee was none of the fayrest, yet so wyse and

vertuous as many great Lords and personages made sute to her for

mariage, to whom she rendred for earnest sutes, cold aunsweares:

because shee knew her father to be more bent to keeping of

money, then to thaduauncement of his children: and her

Maistresse (as is before said) bare vnto her so little fauour as

they which esteemed the Queene's good grace, woulde neuer make

anye sute vnto her. Thus by father's negligence and Maistres

disdaine, the poore gentlewoman remayned long time vnmaried. And

as shee that forcibly was payned, not so much for griefe of

mariage, as for that shee was not required or sued vnto, became

so werie of worldly life, as deuoutly she bent herselfe to GOD,

and by forsakinge the toyes and brauerie of the Courte, passed

her time in prayer, or els in other vertuous exercise: and by

withdrawing herselfe to this kinde of life, she spent her youth

so soberlie and deuoutly as was possible for a woman to do. When

she approched nere the age of XXX. yeares, there was a gentleman

a bastarde borne, of right honorable house, a uery curteous and

honest personage, whose every riches and beautie was such, as no

Lady or gentlwoman for pleasure would haue chosen him to

husband. This poore gentleman was voide of frends for

maintenaunce of lyuing, and vnhappie in mariage sutes, although

he pursued many, till at length he borded this poore Gentlewoman

Rolandine: for their Fortunes, complexions and condicions were

very like, and by vse of seuerall complaints made one to

another, ech of them fell in ernest loue with the other: and

being both thrall vnto mishap, they sought desired comforte by

vertuous and honest talke: and by that vse and frequentacion

greater loue increased and grew betwene them. Those which had

seene the maiden so straungly retired from wonted demeanor, as

she would speake to none, now marking her continuallie to

interteigne the bastard gentleman, incontinently conceiued ill

opinion of her, and told the mother of the Queene's maids

(called Modesta) that she ought not to suffer such familiaritie

betweene them. Which report Modesta reuealed to Rolandine,

sayinge that diuers persons did speake euill of her, for that

she vsed to talke with the bastard, that neither was of

sufficient abilitie for her to marie, ne yet of beautie worthie

to be beloued. Rolandine which daily was more rebuked for her

austeritie of life, then for worldly toyes, sayd vnto Modesta

her gouernesse: "Alas, mother, you see that I cannot haue a

husband according to the worthines of my bloud, and that dailye

I haue auoyded those which be beautifull and yonge: for feare to

incurre the inconuenience wherinto I haue seene other to fall:

and now hauing chosen this wise and vertuous gentleman, who

preacheth vnto me words that be good and godly, what wrong do

they to me that make this report, sith in this honest order I

doe receiue consolacion of my griefes?" The good old Lady who

loued the maiden (which she called maistresse) as herselfe, said

vnto her: "I see well, that you are worse delt withall at your

father and maistres handes then you deserue. Howbeit sith such

reporte is made of your honor, you ought to refuse to speake

vnto him, although he were your naturall brother." Rolandine

weeping saide vnto her: "Mother, for so much as you aduise me

therunto, I will performe your request, although it be very

straunge that without slaunder, a woman can haue no comfort or

seeke freedome without misreport." The bastard gentleman, as he

was before accustomed, came to visite her, but she tolde him

(a farre of) those words which her gouernesse had said vnto her:

and with teares prayed him to refraine for a time to speake vnto

her, vntill the brute and rumor were somewhat appaised: which

thing he did at her request. But during this long time, either

of them hauing loste their consolacion, began to feele such

torment within themselues, as shee for her part neuer felte the

like. She ceased not from praying vnto God, from goinge on

pilgrimage, and fasting: for this vnacquainted loue brought her

to such disquiet as she could not rest the space of one houre.

Wherewith the noble bastard was no lesse tormented: but he which

had alreadie minded in hart to loue her and pursue her till

mariage, and hauing respecte (for loue sake) to the honor he

should acquire by the same, thought to finde meanes to declare

his minde vnto her, and aboue al things to get the good wil of

her gouernesse: which he did, declaring vnto her the miserie

wherein her poore maistresse remayned, which was voide of al

comfort and other frendship. Then the poore old Lady Modesta,

gaue him thankes for the honest affection that hee bare to her

maistresse: and deuised meanes how the two louers might impart

their minds together. Rolandine fayned herselfe to be sicke of a

Mygrim and paine in her heade, the brute of whose maladie was

feared to be greater then it was, and so concluded betwene them

that when her companion were gone into the chamber, they two

should remaine together alone to satisfie ech other with mutuall

talke. The bastard gentleman was very glad, and ruled himselfe

holy by the councell of the Gouernesse, in such sort as when he

liste, he spake vnto his louer and vertuous Lady: but this

contencaion did not indure: for the Queene who loued her but a

little, inquired what Rolandine did so long in her Chamber, and

one made aunswere that it was by reason of her sicknes. Albeit

there was another which knewe to well the cause of her absence,

sayde vnto her, that the ioye which Rolandine had to speake vnto

the bastard was able to ease her Mygrim. The Queene which found

out the veniall sinnes of other, by mortall offences in

herselfe, sent for her, and forbad her in any wyse not to speake

vnto the bastard, except it were in the hall or within her owne

Chamber. The Gentlewoman made as though she vnderstode her not,

but mildlie aunswered that, is shee knew any talke betweene them

might offend her maiestie, she would neuer speake vnto him

againe. Notwithstanding she determined to finde out some other

secret meanes that the Queene should not know of their meeting:

which was this. The Wednesday, Fridaye, and Saturday, the

gentlewoman vsed to fast, and for that purpose kept her Chamber

with her Gouernesse Modesta, where she had leysure to talke

(whilest the reste did suppe) with him whom she began so

earnestlie to loue: and as constrainte of time did force their

talke to be shorte, the greater was their affection in

vtteraunce of the same: because for the doing therof they stole

time, as the theefe doth his desired praye. This order of their

contentacion could not proceede so secretely, but that a

certaine varlet a yeoman of the Chamber, chaunced to see him

resort vnto her vpon a fasting day, and told it in such place

wher of some hearer, it was disclosed to the Queene herself, who

was so sore offended as neuer after that time the poore bastard

gentleman durste once attempt to go into the maiden's chamber

againe. And to thintent that he might not lose the commodity of

talke with her, whom he so derely loued, oftentimes he fayned

himselfe to go on pilgrimage, and in the euening returned to the

Church and chapell of the Castel, in the habite of a frier, or

Iacobin (so wel disguised and altered, as no creature could know

him) and thither repaired the gentlewoman Rolandine, with her

Gouernesse to enterteigne him. He marking the great loue that

she bare him, feared not to say vnto her: "Madame, you see the

daunger which I hasard for your seruice, and the warnings that

the Queene hath giuen for our talke. You see on thother side

what a father you haue, who careth not after what sort he bestow

you in mariage: and you hauinge refused so many greate states

and noble men, I know not one, either farre or neare, that is

minded to haue you. I confesse my selfe to be but poore, and

that you may marie diuers gentlemen of greater reputacion and

richesse, then I am: but if loue and good wil were deemed

treasure and richesse, then woulde I presume to be the richest

gentleman of the world. God hath indowed you with great plentie

of goodes, and you are yet in choise to haue more: and if I were

so happie as you would vouchsafe to chose me for your husband,

I would accompt my selfe to be vnto you both husband, frend and

seruaunt, all the dayes of my life: and againe, if you should

take one equall to your nobilitie (a thinge very harde to finde)

he would rule and gouerne ouer you, and haue more respecte to

your goodes, then to your person, to your beautie then to your

vertue: and in triumphinge with dispence of that you haue, hee

maye chaunce to intreate you otherwise then you deserue. The

desire of this contentacion, and the feare that I haue, least

you should graunte it to some other, do force me to beseech you,

that by one only meanes you would make me happie and your selfe

the most contented and best intreated woman that euer was."

Rolandine giuing eare to that communication which shee herselfe

ment to haue pronounced, aunswered him with stoute courage:

"I am very glad and wel pleased that you haue begunne the sute

your self, which I of long time haue determined to breake vnto

you: for which cause these two yeres past as you know, I haue

not ceased to thincke and deuise all the reasons and arguments

for and against you, that I could inuent: but in thend for so

much as I do meane to take vpon me the state of Matrimonie, it

is time that I begin to chose such husbande, with whom I shall

in my conscience like to liue at rest and quiet all the dayes of

my life: and amidde all the troupe of my thoughts in choise,

I cannot finde anye one, were he neuer so faire, riche or noble,

with whom my hart and minde can so well agree and match as with

you. I know that by marying of you I shall not offende God, but

rather do the thinge that hee commaundeth. And touching my Lord

my father, he hath had so litle consideracion of my perferment,

and so often refused it, as the law now will suffice, that I

giue my selfe in mariage withoute his consent, and therefore

cannot disenherite me, or worthely thincke ill of me: and by

hauing a husband (a thing appertinent to women kinde) such as

you be, I shall esteeme my selfe the richest woman of the

worlde. As for the Queene my maistresse, I oughte not to take

any care or remorse of conscience by displeasing her, to obey

God: for she hath not ceased to hinder that aduauncement, which

in my youth I mighte haue had, and by paine and diligence

towards her did well deserue: but to thend you may vnderstand,

that the loue and good will which I beare you, is founded vppon

vertue and honor, you shall promise me, that if I doe accorde

this mariage, you shall neuer purchase or require the

consummacion thereof, Vntill my father be deade, or els do finde

some meanes to make him consente hereunto." Which the bastard

gentleman willingly did graunt: and vppon these promises and

termes, either of them gaue eche other a ringe in the name of

mariage, and did kisse together in the Church before God, whom

they toke to witnes of their assurance, and neuer after betwene

them was any other priuie fact committed, but only kissing. This

litle easement of mind did greatly satisfie the harts of these

two perfect louers: and were a great while without seing ech

other, liuing only by this assurance. There was no place where

honour mighte be gotten, but thereunto the bastarde made his

repaire with so great delight, as he thought he could neuer be

poore for respect of that riche wife which God had prouided for

him. Which wyfe in his absence, did euer continue her absolute

amitie towards that gentleman: and although many made sute yet

they receyued none other aunswere from her but deniall, and for

that she had remayned so long time vnmaried, she was minded

neuer to take vppon her that state. This her aunswere was so

generall as the Queene heard of it, and asked her for what

occasion shee was so determined. Rolandine saide vnto her, that

it was to obey her: for that shee knew shee would neuer suffer

her to marie, because in time and place where she might haue bin

honorablie matched to her well liking, she denied the same, and

that the vertue of pacience had taught her to contente herselfe

with the state wherein she was. And still as she was sued for in

mariage, she rendred like aunswere. When the warres were ended,

and the bastarde returned to the Courte, shee neuer spake vnto

him in open presence, but wente alwayes into some Church to

interteigne him vnder colour of Confession: for the Queene had

forbidden both him and her, that they should not talke together,

vnlesse it were before companye vpon paine of losse of their

liues. But honest loue, which feareth no defence, was more prest

to find meanes, for their mutuall talke, then their enemies were

ready to separate the same: and vnder the habite or colour of

all the religions they could deuise, they continued that honest

amitie, vntil the king remoued into a house of pleasure, not so

nere as the Ladies were able to go on foote to that Church, as

they were to the Church of the Castell, which was not situate in

such conueniente wyse for their purpose, as they could secretely

repaire (vnder colour of confession) to talke together:

notwithstanding if on the one side occasion fayled, loue found

out another for their contentment: for there arriued a Lady to

the Court, to whom the bastard was very nere kin. This Lady with

her sonne were lodged in the king's house, and the chamber of

this yong prince was far beyond the body of the lodging, where

the king himselfe did lie: but so nere vnto Rolandine's Chamber

as he might both see and speake vnto her, for their windowes

were properlie and directly placed at either corner of the

house: in which chamber (being ouer the hall) were lodged al the

Ladies of honor, the companions of Rolandine. Who beholding many

times the yong king at that window, caused the bastard to be

aduertized therof by her gouernesse: who after he had well

beholden the place, made as though he had great delighte to read

vpon a booke of the Knightes of the Round Table, that lay in the

chamber window of the yong king: and when euery man was gone to

dinner, he prayed the yeoman to suffer him to make an end of the

historie, and to shut him within the chamber. The other which

knew him to be the kinsman of his maistres, and an assured man,

suffred him to read so long as he liste. On thother side

Rolandine came vnto her window, who to find occasion to tarrie

there the longer, fayned to haue a paine in her leg, and dined

and supped in so good time, as she went no more to the ordinarie

of the Ladies: wher she began to set herselfe a worke about the

making of a bed of Crimson silke, placing her worke vpon the

window, as desirous to be alone. And when she saw no man to be

there, shee interteigned her husband, to whom she might speake

in secret wise, so as none was able to vnderstande them: and

when any person came nere, she coughed and made a signe that the

bastard might withdraw himselfe. They that were appointed to

watche them, thought vndoubtedlie that their loue was past and

ended, because she went not out of the Chamber, wher safely he

coulde not see her, for that hee was forbidden the same. Vppon a

day the mother of the yong Prince being in her sonne's Chamber,

repayred to the windowe where that great booke did lie, and shee

had not staied there long, but one of Rolandine's fellowes which

was within her Chamber saluted her. The lady asked her how

Rolandine did, who sayd that shee might very wel see her, if it

were her pleasure: and caused her to come to the window wyth her

night geare vppon her head. And after they had talked a while of

her sicknes they withdrew themselues. The other ladie espying

the great booke of the Round Table, sayde to her yeoman of the

Chamber: "I do marueille much why yong men do imploie themselues

to read such follies." The yeoman made aunsweare, that he

marueled much more, why men of good yeres, counted and esteemed

wise and discrete, should haue greater delight in reading of

such trifles, then those that were yong. And to iustifie that

maruel hee told her how her cosin the bastard did spend 4 or 5

houres in a day to read vppon the same. Vpon which words by and

by she conceyued the cause of his deepe studie, and charged him

to hide himselfe in some place to mark what he did. Which

commaundement the yeoman performed, and perceiued that the booke

which the bastard read vpon, was the window out of which

Rolandine talked with him: and therewithal called to remembrance

many wordes of the loue which they thought to keepe very

secreete. The next day he rehersed the same vnto his maistresse,

who sent for her cosin the bastard, and after many tales told

him, she forbad him to resort thither any more, and at night she

gaue like warning to Rolandine, threatninge her that if she

continued in her fond and foolish loue, she woulde tell the

Queene the whole circumstaunce of her lighte demeaner. Rolandine

(nothing astonied with those woords) did sweare that sith the

time she was forbidden by her maistresse the queene's maiesty,

she neuer spake vnto him: the troth whereof shee might learne

aswel of the gentlewomen her companions, as of other seruauntes

of the house: and touching the window whereof she spake, she

boldly aduouched that she neuer talked with the Bastard there.

Who (poore gentleman) fearing that his affayres would be

reuealed, kept himselfe farre out from daunger, and longe time

after did not retourne to the Courte. Howbeit, he wrote many

times to Rolandine by such secret meanes as for all the espiall

that the Queene had put, there passed no weeke but twise at

least shee hearde newes from him: and when one meanes did fayle

hym, hee deuised another, and many tymes sent a litle Page

clothed in colours (so often altered and chaunged as he was

sent) who staying at the gates when the Ladies passed by,

delyuered his letters priuelye in the middest of the prease.

Vpon a time as the Queene for her pleasure walked into the

fieldes, one which knew the Page and had charge to take hede

vnto those doings, ranne after him: but the Page which was a

fine boye, doubtinge leaste hee should be searched, conueyed hym

selfe into a poore woman's house, where spedelie he burnt his

letters in the fier, ouer whiche a potte was boyling with meate

for her poore familie. The gentleman that followed him stripped

him naked and searched his clothes, but when he sawe that he

could finde nothing, he let him goe: and when he was departed,

the olde woman asked him wherefore he searched the boye: who

aunswered: "to finde letters which he thought he had about him."

"Tush," (quod she) "serch no more, for he hath hidden them very

well." "I pray thee tell me," (quod the Gentleman) "In what

place:" hoping to haue recouered the same. But when hee

vnderstode that they were throwen into the fire, he well

perceiued that the boye was craftier then him selfe. All whiche

incontinently hee tolde the Queene, notwithstanding from that

time forthe, the bastard vsed no longer the Page, but sent one

other of his olde seruauntes, whom he faithfully trusted, and he

(forgetting feare of death which hee knewe well the Queene

threatned on them that had to doe in those affaires) tooke vpon

him to carie his maister's letters to Rolandine. And when hee

was entred the Castell, hee wayted at a certen doore placed at

the foote of a paire of staiers, by whiche the ladies passed to

and fro: where he had not taried long, but a yeoman which at

other times had sene him, knewe him and thereof told the maister

of the Queene's house, who soudainly made searche to apprehende

him. The fellowe which was wise and politique, seing that diuers

loked vpon him a farre of, retourned towardes the wall

(as though he would haue made his water) tearing his letters in

so many small peces as he could doe for his life, and threw them

behinde an old gate: who had no soner done the facte, but hee

was apprehended and throughly searched, and when they could

finde nothing about him, they made him {s}weare whether he had

brought any letters or not, vsing him partly by rigor, and

somewhat by faire perswasion to make him confesse the truthe:

but neither through promise or threate, they could get any thing

at his handes. Report hereof was brought to the Queene, and one

of the companie gaue aduise that searche should be made behind

the gate, where he was taken: in which place they founde nothing

but litle peces of letters. Then they caused the kinge's

Confessor to be sent for, who recouering the peces layd them

vpon a table, and red the lettre throughout, where the veritie

of the mariage (so much dissembled) was throughly discifered,

for the bastard in those letters called her nothing els but

wife. The Queene not meaning to conceale the fault of her

kinswoman, (which she ought to haue done) fil into a great rage

and storme, commaunding that the poore man by al meanes possible

should be forced to confesse the true tenor of that letter, to

thintent that the same by his affirmacion might not be denied:

but doe what they could, they were not able to make him alter

his former tale. They which had commission to examine him,

brought him to the Riuer side and did put him into a sack,

saying that he did lie before God and the Queene, and against an

approued trothe. He that had rather lose his life than accuse

his maister, prayed them to suffer him to haue a ghostly father

that like a Christian he might ende his life, and so entre the

ioyes prepared for all repentant sinners, and after that he had

clered his conscience, he said vnto them: "Maisters, tell my

Lorde and maister the Bastarde, that I recommend vnto him the

poore estate of my poore wife and children, trusting his honour

will haue consideration of them for my sake, for so mutch as

with good and loyall harte, I doe imploye my life for his honor

and suretie: and with me doe what you list, for you get nothing

at my handes that shall redounde to his hurt and preiudice."

Then to put him in greater feare, they bounde him within the

sacke and threwe him into the water, crying unto him, if thou

wilt tell the trouth thou shalt be saued: but they seing that he

would make no aunswer drew him out againe, making reporte to the

Queene of his faith and constancie. Who then sayd, that neither

the king nor she were so happy in seruauntes as the Bastarde

was, that had not wherewith to recompence such fidelitie. The

Quene did what she coulde to get him from his seruice, but the

poore fellowe would in no wise forsake his maister.

Notwithstanding in thende by his said maister's leaue, he was

put into the Queene's seruice, where he liued many happy dayes.

The Queene after she vnderstode by the bastarde's letters the

trouth of the mariage, sent for Rolandine, and in great rage,

called her caitife and miserable wretche, in stede of cosin,

reciting vnto her the disparagement of her noble house, and the

villanie she had committed against the honorable race whereof

she came, and against the will of her which was her Queene,

kinswoman and maistres, by contracting mariage without the

licence of the king and her. Rolandine whiche of long time knewe

the small devocion that her maistres bare vnto her, vsed her

with like affection: and bicause she was werie of the Quene's

displeasure, thinking that her correction vttered in presence of

many proceded not of loue, but rather to make her ashamed,

abandoned feare, and conceiuing courage, when she sawe the

Queene in her chiefest rage, with gladsome and firme

countenaunce answered her in this wise: "Madame, if you cannot

conceiue the malice of your owne harte, I will set before your

eyes the rancour and displeasure of the same, which malice of

long time you haue borne towardes the Lorde my father and me:

whereof madame, I doe fele the smarte, to my great losse and

grief: for if it had pleased you to haue borne vnto me that good

wil which you do to those that are not so nere about you as I

am, I had before this tyme been placed and preferred in mariage

as well to the likyng of your honour as to my greate

satisfaction: but you haue regarded mee as one forgotten, and

cleane out of fauour, in such wyse as all the noblemen, with

whome I might haue been matched, haue contempned me, as well

through the negligence of my Lorde my father, as for the like

estimation and accompt that you haue made of me: by meanes

whereof I fell into that dispaire which if my health could haue

susteined the order and state of religion, I would willingly

haue taken it vpon me, to haue seuered my selfe from the

continuall hatred and enuy which your grace ful rigorously hath

showen vnto me: and being in this dispaire, I chaunced to finde

out him, that is proceded of so noble a house as my selfe. If

the loue of twoo persones is to be regarded, that meane to

accomplishe the holy state of wedlock: for you knowe that his

father in nobilitie farre excelled myne. He hath of long time

loued me, and made great sute vnto me, but you madame, whiche

neuer pardoned me for any small offence, ne yet praysed anye

good acte of myne (although you know by experience that I haue

not vsed to talke of matters of loue or other worldlie affaires,

and that I minded aboue all things to leade a more religious

life then any other) doe make it an hainous matter that I should

talke with a Gentleman (so infortunate as my selfe), by whose

loue, I thought or sought for nothing els but the ease and

comfort of my minde. And seing my selfe voyde and frustrate of

mine expectation, I shall imploie indeuour so well to seeke my

rest and quiet, as you haue gone about to dispoyle me of the

same: and then will celebrate the mariage which is already

assured by promises and by a ring. Wherefore, madame, I thinke

that you doe me great wrong by terming me to be a wicked woman,

sithe that in so great and perfect amitie I might haue founde

occasion (if I would) to haue committed euills: but there was

neuer betwene him and me any priuie fact, other then that is

honest, hoping that God wil shewe me such fauour, as before the

mariage be consumat, I shall obtaine the fauour and good will of

my Lorde my father: wherby I do neither offende God, nor my

conscience, for I haue taried till the age of XXX. yeares, to

see what you and my father would doe for me. I haue kept my

selfe so chast and honest, as no man liuing is able to laye the

contrarie to my charge. And with that reason wherewith God hath

indued me, being olde and voyde of hope, to finde a husbande

agreable to my nobilitie, I am determined to marie sutche a one

as I like beste, not for the pleasure or satisfaction of the eye

(for you know he is not faire) nor for lust of the flesh (for

there hath bene no carnall fact committed) ne yet for pryde and

couetousnes (for he is but poore and of litle estimation) but I

haue a sincere respecte and pure regarde to his vertue, honestie

and good grace, for whiche the worlde doth geue him praise, and

the great loue also that he beareth me, maketh me hope to finde

with him great rest and quiet. And after I had deuised and

considered the good and euill that might insue by this my

choise, I still persisted in that mind, and haue well wayed and

pondered the same these twoo yeares past, being throughly

resolued to waste and spende the rest of my dayes with him which

I meane still firmely to kepe in despite of all the tormentes

and cruelties, that the greatest enemies I haue, be able to make

my poore bodie suffre, no not death it selfe shall force me to

refuse hym. Wherefore Madame, I beseech you to accept this my

reasonable excuse, whereunto your self is nowe made priuie, and

suffer me to liue in that peace, whiche I hope for euer through

him, in these mine elder to finde." The Queene wel marking her

stout wordes and countenaunce, and knowing the same to be very

true, was not able to aunswere her againe with reason: but

continuing, her rebukes and taunting checkes began to waste, and

at length fell out into this rage: "Ah, presumptuous drabbe, and

caitife wretch, in stede of humbling thy selfe and repenting

thine offence, thou carpest boldly without dropping or sheading

any teare, whereby thou doest manifestly declare that stubbornes

and hardnes of thy harte: but if the king, and thy father, would

follow mine aduise, they should put thee into a place, where

force should make thee to vse other language." "Madame," said

Rolandine, "because you haue accused me of bolde talke and

presumptous speache, I meane from henceforth to hold my peace,

except you geue me leaue to make mine aunswere." And when she

was commaunded to tell forth her mynde, she said: "It is not my

part, Madame, boldly or without duetifull reuerence to speake

before your maiestie (whiche is my maistresse, and the greatest

Princesse in Christendome). The wordes which I haue said, be not

spoken (Madame) of presumption, but to declare that I haue none

other aduocate to pleade for me, but the trouth of my cause. And

therefore am bolde without blushing feare to disclose the same,

hoping that if your grace did knowe the secret concept of my

poore faithfull harte, you woulde not iudge mee to be that woman

which you terme me to be. I doe not doubt that any mortall

creature vnderstanding my behauiour in those matters wherwith I

am charged, would blame me, for my liberall speache, sithe I am

sure that God and myne honor in no point I haue offended. The

cause which maketh me thus without feare to saye my minde is,

because I am assured that he whiche seeth my harte, is the geuer

of my life also, and remaineth with me. If then such a Iudge and

Guide doe order and dispose my life, why should I be afrayd of

them that be subiect vnto his iudgement? And why then Madame,

should I wayle or wepe, sithe mine honor and conscience without

remorse or grudge do wel like of these my doings, which if they

were newly to begin, I would not repente me to doe the same

againe. But it is you (Madame) that hath good cause to wepe, as

well for the great displeasure, euer borne me from my youthfull

dayes, as for the wrong you doe me nowe by reprehending me

before the face of all the worlde for a faulte, whiche ought

rather to be imputed vnto you then vnto me. For if I had

offended God, the king, or you, my parentes, or my conscience,

I were well worthy to be counted very obstinate, if with great

repentaunce I did not lament the same, but for a dede that is

right good and vertuous, I ought not to wepe, whereof there was

neuer other rumor spred but verie honorable, except the slaunder

which your selfe hath raised, whereby your desire to increase my

shame and dishonor appeareth to be greater then the respecte you

haue to conserue the nobilitie of your house, or kindred wherof

you come. But because it pleaseth you, Madame, so to vse me,

I purpose not to withstand you. For when you shall ordeine that

punishment for me, which you like best, I shal reioyse no lesse

to suffer the same without desert, then you be willing to

bestowe it vpon me without cause. Wherefore Madame, commaunde my

Lorde my father to put me to what tormente you will, for the

execution wherof you shall not finde him vnwilling. And I shall

not be altogether without ioy, to see him prest and redie to

obey your wilfull mynde. But I haue a father in heauen, who

(I am sure) will geue me suche pacience, as I shall be able to

abide and indure, what affliction soeuer you prepare for me, in

whom only is al my hope and trust." The Queene, so angrie as she

could be, commaunded her out of her sight, and to be shutte into

a chamber alone, that none might speake vnto her. In which

imprisonment shee was not depriued from the companie of her

gouernesse, by whose meanes she let the Bastarde vnderstande all

her fortune, and she likewise vnderstode what he thought best

for her to doe. Who thinking that the seruice which he had done

to the king, would stand him in some stede, came vnto the Court

with all spede, and founde the king in the fieldes, to whome hee

rehearsed the trouth of the facte, beseching his maiestie that

vnto him (who was a poore gentleman) he would shewe such fauour

and grace as the rigor of the Queene's maiestie might be

appeased, and the mariage fully consumat and ended. The king

made him none other aunswere, but saide: "Is it true that thou

hast maried her?" "Yea sir," saide the Bastarde: "by wordes only

as yet: but if it please your maiestie, the same may be

throughly made perfit." The king nodded his hed, and for that

time geuing him none other aunswere, hee retourned straite to

the Castell, and when he was almost there, he called the

Captaine of his Guarde, and commaunded him to apprehend the

Bastarde. Notwithstanding one of his frendes which knewe the

kinge's countenaunce, willed him to absent himselfe, and to

retire to one of his houses, and if the king made serche after

him (as he suspected) he would incontinently aduertise him

therof, that he might auoyde the realme: and when the king's

displeasure was pacified, he would sende him worde. The Bastarde

beleued him, and vsed such diligence as the Captain of the

Guarde could not finde him. The king and the Queene councelled

together what they might doe with this poore damsell, whiche was

their kinswoman, and by the Queene's aduise it was concluded,

that she should be sent home to her father, with the true

aduertisement of the whole matter. But before she was sent,

diuerse Diuines and learned men of the Clergie, were demaunded

their opinions of the priuat mariage, and the Counsell also did

sit vpon the same, who concluded that for so muche as the

mariage was not celebrated but by wordes, it might easely be

vndone, vntill one of them had acquited the other. Which the

king commaunded to be performed for the honor of the house

wherof she came. But she made them aunswere, that in all thinges

she was redie to obey the king, except it were in matter against

her conscience, sayinge, that those whome God had coupled

together by heauenly aduise, could not bee separated by man's

decree, praying them not to attempt a thing so vnreasonable: for

if loue and good will founded vpon the feare of God, were the

true and sure knot of mariage, then she was so wel bounde and

tied, as neither iron, fier, or water coulde breake that band,

but death alone. Wherunto, and to none other constitution, she

was determined to rendre her ring and othe, praying them not to

speake, do, or proceede, to any thing that were contrarie vnto

that: wherin she was so stedfastly resolued, as she had rather

die by keping her faith, then liue to denie the same. The

Commissioners retorned to the king and Queene the constant

answere of the Gentlewoman, and when they sawe no remedie could

be found to make her renounce her husband, they conueyed her

home to her father, in such pitifull sorte, as by the way she

passed, eche man and woman lamented her fortune. And albeit shee

had offended, yet the punishement and affliction she suffred was

so great and her constancie so firmely bent, as she made her

fault to be estemed a vertue. The father receiuing those

pitifull newes, would not see her, but sent her to his castell

that stoode in a forest, which he had before time builded for an

occasion, worthy to be rehersed hereafter, and there kept her in

prison a long time, sending worde vnto her, that if shee would

forsake her husband, he would take her for his doughter, and set

her at libertie. Who for all that offer was firme and constant,

and loued her prison the better by obseruing the bond of

mariage, then al the libertie of the world, without the hauing

of her husband. And it semed by her countenaunce, that al the

paynes she had indured were most pleasaunt pastimes, for that

she suffred the same for his sake, whome she loued best. What

should I speake of men? This Bastarde at length became

vnmindeful of her, and fled into Alemaine, where he had many

frendes. Whose inconstancie afterwardes appeared so manifest, as

the vertue of true and perfit loue outwardly seming to remain in

him, was conuerted into the vice of odible ingratitude, whereby

it was euident, that the causes that made him so hotte a Suter,

were the vglie monsters of Auarice and Ambition, where he fill

in loue with an Almaine Ladie, he forgetting to visite her with

letters, that for his sake had susteined so great and manifold

tribulations. For what rigor or affliction soeuer Fortune

offred, coulde neuer before that tyme put awaye the meanes from

writing one to an other, but onely the vices before named, and

the foolish and wicked loue wherin he suffred him selfe to fall.

Which sudden and newe loue so perced the hart of Rolandine, and

so fiercely assailed the same, as she could no more content and

rest her self. Afterwards vpon the viewe of his wrytinges and

letters, seing him to be so chaunged and altered from his

accustomed stile, what tormentes then she suffred, they doe

knowe that haue felte and tasted the bitter cup of like

passions. And yet her perfecte loue would not suffer her to fixe

certaine iudgement vpon this aduertisement, and therefore

deuised secretly to sende one of her seruaunts whome shee

trusted best, to espie, and priuely make serche whether the same

were true or not. Whiche her seruaunt being retourned, hee

truely tolde her, howe the Bastarde Gentleman was in loue with a

Ladie of Almaine, and howe the brute was that he made great sute

vnto her for mariage, because shee was very ritche. These newes

brought sutche extreme sorrowe and grief to the harte of poore

Rolandine, as being not able to abide the bruntes thereof, she

fill very sicke. Those whiche vnderstode the originall of her

disease, sayde vnto her (in the behalfe of her father) that for

so muche as nowe she knewe the great villanie of the Bastarde,

shee might iustly forsake hym: persuading her thereunto with the

greatest reasons they could deuise. But for all those

persuasions, no remedie could be founde to make her chaunge

opinion: in whiche her laste tentacion shee declared the great

constancie wherewith she was affected: for like as loue was

decreased in him: so the same augmented in her, whiche remained

and persisted in despite of all the malice of the worlde. For

that loue, whiche fayled, and was fledde from him, tourned and

retired into her. And when she perceiued her selfe alone fully

possessed with that whiche before was deuided betwene them

bothe, shee determined to obserue the same vntill death had made

an ende of her fatall dayes. Wherefore the goodnes of God (which

is perfect charitie and true loue) had pitie vpon her sorrowe,

and regarded her pacience in such wise, as within few daies

after the Bastarde died in the pursute of the other ladie's

Loue. Wherof Rolandine being dauertised by those which saw him

buried, prayed them to trauell with her father by humble sute,

that he would vouchsafe to giue her leaue to speake vnto him.

Who at their request, (although he neuer spake vnto her before,

during the tyme of her imprisonment) incontinently was pleased

so to doe. And after that he had herde the discourse of her

iuste reasons, in place of rebukes, and his promise made to kill

her (which many times he threatened by woordes) he cleped her

betweene his armes, and bitterly weping, sayde vnto her:

"Daughter, I wel perceiue your vertue and constant mynde, which

farre surmounteth any thing that is good in mee, for if there be

any faulte or lacke of consideration of your estate, I am the

principal occasion thereof: but sith the goodnes of God hath

thus ordeined it, I wil make satisfaction for mine offence

past." And afterwardes he sent her home to his house, where he

vsed and interteigned her like his derest and eldest daughter.

In the ende she was demaunded in mariage by a Gentleman of name

and armes, to her estate and bloud not inferior. Who was bothe

wise and vertuous, and so louingly regarded Rolandine (whome he

many times visited) as he attributed vnto her the prise of

prayse for that, which others accompted worthy of rebuke,

knowing that her intent of former loue was grounded vpon the

foundation of vertue. The mariage was well liked of her father,

was acceptable to Rolandine, and was forthwith concluded. True

it is that a brother she had, the only inheritour of her

father's landes, who would not agree that she should receiue her

childe's porcion, obiecting that she had disobeied her father.

And after the death of the good old man (her father) her brother

vsed her very rigorously and cruelly. For her husbande was but a

yonger brother, and had wherewithal scarce able to liue: for

which want, God bountifully prouided: for the brother whose

gredie minde did craue in one daie to be possessor of al, by

sodain death was depriued, as well of his sister's porcion as of

al the rest. By whose death she remained the whole inheritor of

that honorable house: and afterwardes liued an honorable and

stately life, in great wealth and pleasure, and was welbeloued

and duetifully intreated of her husband. Finally hauing by her

husband two goodly sonnes, she very vertuously brought them vp,

and finishing her aged dayes, she ioyfully rendred her soule

vnto him, in whom of long time she had reposed her onely trust

and confidence. Now good ladies let them come forth that be the

common displaiers of women's inconstancie, and let them bring

forth in presence, so good and perfect a husband as this was a

good and constant woman, indued with semblable faith and vertue.

I am sure to bring this to passe the matter wilbe very

difficult: and therfore I had rather discharge them of this my

chalenge, then put them to payne to trauell and seeke for such a

one. Whose vertuous loue and godlye continuance of the same, is

worthye to bee sounded by Trompe of fame to the extreame partes

of the Earth. And yet I would aduise yonge Ladies and

gentlewomen to beware how they be inamoured, and pursue the

trade of loue, contrarie to the will of parentes, who ought in

time of infancie to be their guide, and also in riper yeares to

procure them mariage according to their worthines: which they

may the better and soner do, is by vertuous education they arme

and instruct their tender and youthly age.

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