THE ELEUENTH NOUELL.

_Chera hid a treasure: Elisa going about to hang her selfe, and

tying the halter about a beame found that treasure, and in place

thereof left the halter. Philene the daughter of Chera going for

that treasure, and busily searching for the same, found the halter,

wherewithal for dispayre she would haue hanged hir selfe, but

forbidden by Elisa, who by chaunce espied hir, she was restored to

part of hir losse, leading afterwards a happy and prosperous lyfe._

Fortune, the Lady Regent and Gouernesse of man's lyfe, so

altreth and chaungeth the state thereof, as many times we see

the noble borne from that great mighty port, wherein they be,

debased so farre, as either infamously their lyfe is spent in

the hungry lap of Dame Penury, or else contriued in the vgly

lothsom house of Wantonnesse, the stepdame of all honesty and

vertue. Sometimes we marke the vnnoble ladde that was nooseled

in the homely countrey caban, or rude ciuile shoppe, attaine to

that whych the onely honorable and gentle do aspire: and he

agayne that is ambicious in climbing vp the turning wheele,

throwen down beneth the brink of aduerse luck, whelmed in the

ditch and pit of black despaire. We note also sometimes that the

carelesse wyght of Fortune's giftes, hath (vnlooked for) his

mouth and throte crammed full of promotion and worlde's

delights. Such is the maner of hir fickle stay: whereof this

History ensuing, gyueth some intelligence, by remembring the

destenied luck of 2 pore sory girles that were left destitute of

desired things, both like to fal into despaire, and yet both

holpen with that they most desired: which in this sort

beginneth. In the time that Scipio Affricanus had besieged the

City of Carthage, Chera that was a widow (dwellinge there)

seeinge the daunger at hand wherein the Citty stoode, and

doubtynge the losse and ouerthrowe of the same, and that the

honor of the dames and womankinde, coulde vneths be safe and

harmelesse, determined not to abide the vttermost: and hauinge a

good quantity of Gold and precious stones, she bestowed the same

in a casquet, and hid it vpon one of the beames of hir house,

purposinge when the stir and daunger was past, to retourne to

hir house agayne for those hir hidden things. Which done, in the

habite of a poore woman with her onely daughter in hir hand that

was about 5 or 6 yeares of age, she went out of Carthage, and

passed ouer the Seas into Scicilia, where falling sicke, after

she had bene there three or foure yeares, at length died. But

before shee departed, shee called her Daughter before hir, then

about Ten yeares olde, and told hir the place where she had

layed hir Casket. And by reason of the victory gotten by Scipio,

the city was maruellously chaunged, and amongs other things, the

house of Chera was giuen to a Romane Souldiour that was so

enriched with Nobilyty of Mynd, as hee was poore of Fortune's

Goods. Whych Chera vnderstandyng, was sorowfull, and doubted of

hir thynges secretlye bestowed vppon the beame. Wherevpon she

sayd vnto hir daughter, that for so much as their house was in

the possession of an other, she ought to be wise and circumspect

in the recouerye of hir hidden goods: and that hir death was the

more greuous vnto hir, because she must leaue hir (so yong a

maiden) vnprouided of frendes for hir good gouernement. But yet

she incouraged hir againe and sayd: that sith necessity

approched, she must in childyshe age, put on a graue and

auncient minde, and beware howe shee bewrayed that casket to any

person, for that of purpose shee reserued the knowledge thereof,

to hir self, that it might serue for hir preferment, and procure

hir a husband worthy of hir selfe. And the maiden demaundinge

the value of the same, shee told hir that it was worth CC.

Talentes, and gaue hir in writing the particulars inclosed

within the Caskette, and that the lyke bill shee should find

within the same, written wyth hir owne Hande. And so the good

woman within a while after dyed, leauyng behynde hir the yong

mayden hir daughter, that maruellously lamented the death of hir

mother, accordingly as nature taught hir, and ech other

reasonable wyght depriued from their dearest friends. The maiden

for hir yeres was very wise, and would disclose to none what her

mother had sayd, keeping the writing very carefully. Not long

after Philene (whych was the maiden's name) fell in loue with a

Gentleman of Scicilia of greate reputation and authority, who al

bee it he saw hir to be very faire and comely, yet cared not for

hir loue in respect of Maryage, for that hee knewe hir to bee

poore, and withoute dowrie mete for a Gentleman, iestyng and

mocking to see hir fixe hir minde on him, for desyre to haue him

to hir husbande, that was a personage so noble and rich: which

refusall pierced the hearte of the tender maiden, bicause she

saw hir selfe forsaken for nothynge else, but for want of goods:

whych made hir to think and consider, howe shee myght recouer

the riches that hir mother had layed vp in Carthage. It chaunced

as she was in this meditation, the daughter of him to whome the

House of Chera was giuen, called Elisa, was likewise enamoured

of a noble yong gentleman in Carthage, who bicause Elisa was the

daughter of a Souldiour, and not very rich, in like manner

laughed and iested at hir loue, no lesse than the other did at

Philene. Notwithstanding Elisa attempted al meanes possible to

induce the yong man to loue hir, but hir practise and attemptes

tended to none effect. And last of all, desirous to haue a

resolute answere, and thereby vnderstode, that he would rather

dye than take hir to Wyfe, she fell into despayre and curssed

fortune, and hir fate, that she was not borne riche enough to

match wyth hir chosen Gentleman, and that she being poore, must

fall in loue wyth sutch a personage: whereupon she miserably

tormented hir selfe, still bewaylinge hir vnhappy lucke, that

shee could not win him to be hir husband, for whych only intent

and purpose she loued him. And this amorous passion incredibly

growing in hir, the rootes whereof be planted in the restlesse

humor of melancholy, and wanting all hope and comforte to stay

that Ranke and Rammishe weede, it so increased in her, as shee

franticke in raging loue gaue hir selfe ouer to the spoyle of

herself: and to rid her from the griefe, she determined to kill

hir selfe, imagining whych way she might do the same. At length

she was resolued, with hir father's sword to peerce hir body:

but hir heart not seruing hir thereunto, deuised by the halter

to end her lyfe, saying thus to herselfe: "Thys death yet shal

do me good, that the cruel man may know that for his sake I haue

done this fact: and if his heart be not made of Iron or steele,

he can not chose but sorrowe and lament, that a poore mayde

whych loued him better than hir owne lyfe, hath made sutch

wretched ende onely for his cruelty." Elisa concludinge vpon

this intent, prepared a Halter: and being alone in her house, in

the chamber where the Casket lay vpon the beame, placed a stoole

vnder the same, and began to tye the halter about the beame: in

doinge whereof, she espied the casket, and reached the same vnto

hir, who feeling it to be heauy and weighty, immediatly did open

it, and founde the Byll within, which Chera had written with hir

owne hand, agreable to that which she had deliuered to hir

daughter, wherein were particularly remembred the Iewels and

other riches fast closed within the casket. Who disclosing the

bagges wherein the gold and Iewels were bound vp, and seeing the

great value of the same, wondred thereat, and ioyfull for that

fortune, hid the rope which she had prepared for hir death, in

the place where she found the casket, and with great gladnesse

and mirth went vnto hir father, and shewed him what she had

found, whereat the father reioyced no lesse, then his daughter

Elisa did, bicause he sawe himselfe thereby to be discharged of

his former poore life, and like to proue a man of inestimable

wealth and substance: and saw likewise that the poore wench his

daughter, by the addicion of those riches, was like to attayne

the party whom shee loued. When he had taken forth those bagges

and well surueyed the value, to the intent no man might suspect

the sodayne mutation of his state, tooke his daughter with him,

and went to Rome, where after he had remayned certayne monethes,

hee returned to Carthage, and began very galantly to apparell

himselfe, and to keepe a bountifull and liberall house. His

table and port was very delicate and Sumptuous, and hys Stable

stored wyth many fayre Horsse, in all poynctes sheewinge

himselfe very Noble and rich: by which sodayne chaunge of state,

the whole Citty beleeued that he had brought that wealth from

Rome. And bicause it is the common opinion of the vulgar sort,

that where there is no riches, there is no nobility, and that

they alone make men noble and gentle (a foolyshe Opinion in

deede proceedinge from heads that be rash and light) the people

markynge that porte and charge kept by the Souldiour, conceyued

that he was of some noble house. And throughout the whole Citty

great and solemne honour was done vnto him: whereupon the young

Gentleman, with whom Elisa was in loue, began to bee ashamed of

himselfe, that he had disdayned the mayden. Whych mayden seeing

hir Father's house to be in sutch reputation, made sute to her

father, that he would procure the Gentleman to bee hir husband.

But hir father wylled hir in any wyse to keepe secret hir

desire, and not to seeme her selfe to bee in loue, and wysely

tolde hir, that more meete it was that she should bee solicited

by him, than shee to make sute or request for mariage:

alleaginge that the lesse desirous the gentleman had bene of

hir, the more deare and better beloued shee shoulde be to hym.

And many tymes when hys Daughter was demaunded to Wyfe, he made

aunswere that matrimony was a state of no litle importance, as

enduring the whole course of Lyfe, and therefore ought well to

bee considered and wayed, before any conclusion were made. But

for all these demaundes and aunswers, and all these stops and

stayes, the mayden was indowed with an honest dowry, and in the

end her louer and she were maried, with so great pleasure and

satisfaction of them both, as they deemed themselues happy. In

the meane time while these things were done at Carthage, Philene

in Scicilia toke thought how she might recouer her goods geuen

to her by her mother, desirous by their meanes also to sort hir

earnest and ardent loue to happy successe. And debatinge with

her selfe (as we haue sayd before) howe she might obtayne them,

because the house was in possession of an other, thought it to

bee agaynst reason and order, that although she had lost hir

house, yet hir goods ought to be restored vnto hir, which were

hir onely mayntenance and reputation, and the fittest instrument

that should conduct her loue to happy ende. And hearinge tell

that the Father of Elisa the possessor of hir mother's house

liued at Carthage in great royalty and magnificence, thought

that if by some sleight and pollicie she founde not meanes to

enter the house without suspicion, hir attempt would be in

vayne: determined therefore to goe to Carthage, and to seeke

seruice in that house, counterfaytinge the kynde and habite of a

Page. For she considered, that if she went thither in order and

apparell of a mayden, she should incur the perill of her

virginity, and fall into the lapse of diuers other daungers,

purposed then to go thyther in maner of a Page and lacky. And

when she had in that sort furnished hirselfe, she passed the

Seas, and arriued at Carthage. And seekinge seruice about the

City at length chaunced to be retayned in a house that was next

neyghbour to the Souldier, and bicause this wench was gentle and

of a good disposition, was wel beloued of her maister, who being

the frend of Elisa, hir Father many times sent vnto him diuers

presents and gifts by Philene, wherevppon she began to be

acquainted and familiar with the seruantes of the house, and by

her oft repayre thyther viewed and marked euery corner, and vpon

a time entred the chamber wherein hir Mother Chera {t}olde hir,

that shee had bestowed hir goods, and lookinge vpont the Beames

espied by certayne Signes and tokens, one of them to be the same

where the Casket lay: and therewithal wel satisfied and

contented, verily supposed that the casket still remayned there,

and without further businesse for that time, expected some other

season for recouery of the same. In the ende, the good behauiour

and diligence of Philene, was so liked of Elisa, as hir father

and she made sute to hir maister to giue hir leaue to serue

them, who bycause they were his friends, preferred Philene vnto

them, and became a page of that house. And one day secretly

repayrynge into the chamber, where the treasure lay mounted

vppon a stoole, and sought the beame for the casket: where she

found no casket, but in place where that lay, the halter,

wherwithal Elisa woulde haue strangled hir self. And searching

all the parts of the Chamber and the beames, and finding nothing

else but the halter, she was surprised with sutch incredible

sorrowe, as she seemed like a stock, without spiryte, voice or

life. Afterwardes, being come againe to hir selfe, shee began

pitifully to lament and complayn in this maner: "Ah wretched

Philene, vnder what vnluckie signe and planet was thou begotten

and borne? wyth what offence were the heauens wroth, when they

forced thee to pierce thy mother's wombe? Could I poore creature

when I was framed within the moulde of nature, and fed of my

mother's substance within hir wombe, and afterwards in due time

brought forth to light, commit such crime, as to prouoke the

celestiall impressions to conspire agaynst my Natiuity, to

brynge mine increased age into such wretched state and plighte

wherein it is now wrapped? No, no, my faulte was nothing, it was

parent's offence, if any were at all: for many times we see the

innocent babe afflicted for the father's guilt. The Gods do

punish the posterity, for som sacrilege or notorious crime

committed by progenitors: theyr manner is not to suffer heynous

faultes vnreuenged: their iustice cannot abide such mischief

vncorrected for example sake: so fareth it by me. First my

father died, after wardes my Mother a widow was driuen to

abandon natiue soyle, and seeke reliefe in forrain land: and

leauing that wherwith we were possessed in enimies keping, were

forced a simple life to leade among straungers. And my mother,

yelding forth hir ghost, made me beleue that shee had hidden

great treasures here: and I vnhappy wench thinking to obteine

the pray, haue wandred in counterfeit kind, and fetcheed many a

bitter sigh, vntil I came into this place: and the thing I hoped

for, which myght haue bene the meanes and ende of all my care,

is turned to nothyng: a casket transformed into a halter: gold

and Iewels into a piece of rope? Is this the mariage dowry

(Philene) thou art like to haue to match with him whom thou so

derely louest? Is this the knot that shall conioyne you both in

yoke of man and wife? Ah wretch and miserable caitife, the goods

thy mother layd vp for thee, for maintenance of thy rest, and

safegarde of thine honour, and for the reputation of thy noble

house, wherof thou camst, is now berieued from thee: they that

kepe this stately house, and beare their lofty port amid the

best, haue despoiled thee pore wench of that after which thou

didst vainly trauayle. But what remedye now? sith thy wicked lot

doth thus fall out, sith thy cruel fate is loth thou shouldest

atteine the thing on whych thy mind is bente, and sith thy

painfull lyfe can take no ende, make spede to rid thy selfe from

misery by that meanes which he hath prepared for thee that hath

found thy goods: who seeing his good aduenture to be thy bane,

his happy pray to bee thy spoyle, hath left in lieu of treasure,

a halter, that therwith thou mightest dispatch thy selfe from

all thy griefes, and in their vnhappye companye to cease thy

life, that the lothsom, lengthning of the same might not

increase thy further plaints, sorowes, anguish and affliction.

And in the place where infortunate Philene toke hir beginning,

ther the Miserable wretche must finishe that, which without hir

desired gaine no longer can be maynteined. Peraduenture it may

come to passe as when thy soule is losed from this mortall

charge, it shall stalke by hym, by whom it liueth, and by him

also whom she thought to ioy in greatest contentation that euer

mortall woman did." And thus plaininge and sighing hir il

fortune, when she had ended those words she tyed the halter

about the beame, where sometimes hir Treasure lay, which beyng

done shee put the same about hir necke, sayinge: "O crooked Lady

Fortune, that hast thus vnfrendly dealt with thine humble

clyent: Ah dispayre, thou vgly wretch and companion of the

distressed that is vnwillinge to leaue my haunte vntyll thou

playe the Hangman. Ah Dyuell incarnate that goest aboute to hale

and plucke the innocent into thy hellish caue. Out vppon the

thou deformed hellish dogge, that waitest at the fiery gate to

lette them in, which faine would passe an other porte." And as

shee was powrying forth these spitefull wordes, redy to remove

the stoole to fetch hir swynge, the Gods which would not giue

consent, that the innocent wench should enter that vile and

opprobrious death, moued the heart of Elisa, to passe by the

place where she was in workynge on her selfe that desperate end:

who hearing those moneful plaints vttred after such terrible

manner, opened the Chamber doore, and saw that myserable sight:

and ignorant of the occasion, moued with pity, ranne and stayed

hir from the fact, saying thus vnto hir: "Ah Philene," (whych

was the name that she had giuen to hir selfe) "what folie hath

bewitched thy mind? What phrensie hath incharmed thy braine?

What harde aduenture hath moued thee in this miserable wise, to

ende thy life?" "Ah" (sayd Philene) "suffer me Elisa, to finish

my tormentes: giue me liberty to vnburden myselfe from the bande

of cares that do assaile me on euery side: lette these

Helhoundes that stande heare rounde about mee, haue theyr praye

for which they gape. Thou moued by compassion, arte come hither

to stay mee from the Halter: but in doyng so, thou doest mee

greater wrong, than doeth despayre whych eggeth me therunto.

Suffer I say, that mine afflictions may take some end, sith

cruel fortune willeth it to be so, or rather vnhappy fate: for

sowre death is sweeter in my conceit, than bitter life contriued

in sharper sauce than gall or wormwood." Elisa hearing her

speake these wordes, sayd: "For so much as thy myshap is such,

as onely death is the nearest remedy to depriue thy payne, what

wicked chaunce hath induced thee, in this house to finish those

thy miseries? What hath prouoked the to sutch augury to this our

most happy and ioyfull family?" "Forced is the partye" (sayd

Philene) "so to doe when destenye hath so appointed." "What

desteny is that?" demaunded Elisa. "Tell mee I beseech thee,

perchaunce thou mayst preuent the same by other remedy than that

whereabout thou goest." "No," (answered Philene) "that is

impossible, but to satisfie thy request which so instantly thou

crauest of me, I wil tel thee the summe of al my miserie." In

saying so the teares gushed forth hir eyes, and hir voice brake

oute into complaints, and thus began to say: "Ah Elisa, why

should I seke to prolong my wretched life in this vale of

wretchednesse, wherein I haue ben so miserably afflicted? my

mother pitieng mine estate and seeynge me voide of frends, and a

fatherlesse child vpon hir death bed, disclosed vnto me a

treasure which she had hidden vpon this beam whervnto this

halter (the best remedy of my misery) is tied: and I making

serch for the same, in place of that treasure found this halter,

ordeined as I suppose (by what misfortune I knowe not) for my

death: and where I thought among the happy to be the most happy,

I see my selfe amongs al vnlucky women to be the most

vnfortunate." Elisa hearing hir say so, greatly maruelled and

sayd: "Why then I perceiue thou art a woman and not a man."

"Yea, truly," answered the vnhappy mayden: "A singuler example

of extreme misery to all sortes of women." "And why so?"

demaunded Elisa. "Bicause" (answered Philene) "that the

pestilent planet vnder which I was borne, will haue it to be

so." And then she told hir al that which had chaunced from the

time of hir mother's departure out of Carthage, and how she went

into Scicilia and recounted vnto hir the loue that she bare to a

Scicilian Gentleman, and howe that he disdayning hir for hir

pouerty, refused to be hir husband: whervpon to atchieue hir

desire as loth to forgoe him, was come in maner of a page to

Carthage, to recouer the riches which hir Mother had hidden

there, to the intente she might obtaine (if not by other meanes)

with som rich dowrie, the yong Gentleman to husband whom she so

dearely loued. And then reenforcing hir complaint, she said:

That sith Fortune had despoiled hir of that which might haue

accomplished hir desire, resting no cause why she should any

longer liue, the halter was prepared for hir to end her daies,

and to rid hir life from troubles. And therefore she praied hir

to be contented, that she might make that end which hir

misaduenture and wicked fortune had predestinate. I doubt not

but there be many, which vnderstanding that the treasure did

belong to Philene, if they had found the like as Elisa did,

would not onely not haue forbidden hir the Death, but also by

speedy meanes haue hastened the same, for so mutch as by that

occasion the hidden treasure should haue ben out of strife and

contention: so greate is the force of couetousnesse in the minde

of man. But good Elisa knew ful wel the mutability of Fortune in

humaine thinges, for so mutch as she by seeking death, had fonde

the thinge which not onely deliuered hir from the same, but made

hir the best contented woman of the worlde. And Philene seekinge

hir contentation, in place thereof, and by like occasion, found

the thinge that would haue ben the instrument of hir death, and

moued with very great compassion of the mayden, desired to haue

better aduertisement howe that treasure could belong to her.

Then Philene shewing forth hir mother's writing, which

particularly remembred the parcels within the casket, and Elisa

seeinge the same to be agreeable to the hand wherewith the other

was written that was founde in the casket, was assured that all

the gold and Iewels which she had found, did belong vnto

Philene, and sayd vnto hirselfe: "The Gods defend that I should

prepare the halter for the death of this innocent Wench, whose

substaunce hath yelded vnto mee my hart's desire." And

comforting the mayden, in the ende she sayd: "Be contented

Philene, and giue ouer this thy desperate determination, for

both thy lyfe shalbe prolonged, and thy discontented minde

appeased, hoping thou shalt receyue the comforte thou desirest."

And with those words she losed the halter from hir neck, and

takinge hir by the hand, brought hir to the place where hir

Father and husband were, and did them to vnderstand the force

and terms whereunto the fier of loue and desperation had brought

that amorous mayden: tellinge them that all the treasure and

Iewels which she had found (where she left the halter, and

wherewith Philene was minded to hang hir selfe) did by good

right and reason belonge to hir: then she did let them se the

counterpayne of that bill which was in the casket, in all points

agreeable thereunto, declaringe moreouer that verye lyke and

reasonable yt were, like curtesie should bee vsed vnto her, as

by whom they hadde receyued so greate honoure and delyghte. Her

husband which was a Carthagian borne, very churlishe and

couetous, albeit by conferring the writings together, he knewe

the matter to be true, and that Philene ought to be the

possessor thereof, yet by no meanes would agree vnto hys wyue's

request, but fell into a rage, callinge hir Foole and Ideot, and

sayinge that hee had rather that shee had bene a Thousande tymes

hanged, than he would giue hir one peny: and although she had

saued hir life, yet she ought to be banished the Citty, for so

mutch as the same and all the propertie thereof was brought into

the Romane's handes, and amongs the same hir mother's house, and

al hir goods in possession of the victors, and euery part, at

their disposition and pleasure. And moreouer, for so mutch as

hir mother and shee had departed Carthage, and would not abide

the hazarde and extremity of their country as other Citizens

did, and hauing concealed and hidden those riches which ought to

haue ben brought forth for the common defence of their countrey,

and gone out of the Citty as though she had ben a poore simple

Woman, poorely therefore she ought to lyue in Scicilia, whyther

she was fled. Wherefore he was of opinion, that she in this

maner beinge departed when the Citty had greatest neede of hir

helpe, was disfranchised of all the rightes and customes of the

countrey, and that like as a straunger can recouer nothinge in

that Citty, except he haue the priuiledge and Freedome of the

same, euen so Philene (for the considerations before recited)

ought to be compted for a straunger, and not to participate any

thinge within the City, accordingly as the lawes forbid. When he

had so sayd, he was like by force to expell the sorrowfull

mayden out of the house. These wordes greatly grieued Philene,

who doubted least his father in law would haue ioyned with him,

and agree vnto hys alleaged reasons, whych seemed to be of great

importaunce and effect: and therefore thought newly to returne

to the Halter for remedy of hir griefes; but it otherwise

chaunced, for the Father of Elisa, which was a Romane borne, and

affected with a Romane minde, and therefore of a Gentle and well

disposed nature, knew ful wel, that although the house was giuen

vnto him by the consent of Scipio, and other the Captaynes, yet

he knew that their pleasure was not to bestowe on him the

treasure hidden in the same, and therefore ought to be restored

to the true owner, or else confiscate and properly due to the

Romane Eschequer, or common treasure house of the same: and

albeit that it was true that hir Mother went out of Carthage, in

the time of the Siege, and therefore had forfayted the same, yet

he determined to shewe some curtesie vnto the younge mayden, and

to be thankfull to fortune, for the benefite which by hir meanes

he had receyued, thinkinge that she would be displeased with

him, if he with vngratefull minde or dishonourable intent should

receyue hir giftes. For in those dayes the Romans highly

reuerenced Lady Fortune, and in hir honour had Erected Temples,

and Dedicated Aultars, and in prosperous tyme and happy

aduentures, they consecrated vowes, and sacrifices vnto hir,

thinkinge (although supersticiously) that like as from God there

proceeded none euil, euen so from him all goodnesse was deriued:

that all felicity and other good happes, whych chaunced vppon

the Romane Common wealth, proceeded from Fortune, as the

Fountayne and most Principall Occasion, and that they which

would not confesse hir force, and be thanckful vnto hir

Godheade, incurred in the ende hir Displeasure and Daungers very

great and haynous. This Romane then hauing this opinion, beinge

(as I sayd before) of a gentle Disposition woulde at one instant

both render thankes to Fortune, and vse curtesie vnto that

mayden, by whose riches and goods from lowe degree he was

aduanced to honourable state. Wherefore turning his Face vnto

hir, with louing countenaunce he spake these wordes: "Right

gentle damosel, albeit by the reasons alleged by my sonne in

law, none of the treasure hidden by thy mother, and founde by my

Daughter in thys house, of right doth appertayne to thee, yet I

will that thou shalte vnderstande my curtesie, and that thou see

how the Romanes doe more esteeme the nobility of their minde,

than all the riches of the world. Therefore that thou mayst

enioy thy loue, I referre vnto thee and to thy disposition all

the goods and Iewels that were in the Casket, and contayned in

thy writinge. Beholde therefore (causing the casket to be

brought vnto him) all the Iewels and other parcels that were in

the same when they were founde, take so mutch thereof as thou

wilt, and if so bee thou desire the whole, willingly I render

the same vnto thee, sithens by means of those riches, and the

industry of my trafique, I haue gayned so mutch, as hauinge

gyuen a conuenient dowry vnto my daughter, I honorably liue

without it." Philene seeing the curtesie of this valiaunt

gentleman, gaue him infinite thanks, and then sayd vnto him:

"Sir, I for my part dare aske nothinge, well knowinge that if

you geue me nothinge, there is no cause why I shoulde complayne

of you, but of my hard and wicked fortune, whych hath offered

and giuen that to you, which ought to haue bin mine. Wherefore,

sith your curtesie is sutch, as you refer the whole to mee,

I purpose to take nothing, but will that the whole shall bee in

your disposition, and giue mee what you list, and that so gieuen

of your liberality, I shal more thankfully receiue, than if debt

or duty did constrayne it: and if it shall please you to giue me

nothing, my heart shal bee so well appeased, for that your

curtesie, as rather woulde I chose to liue in the poore estate

wherein I am, than be rych with your displeasure." Howbeit, the

Romayne intreated Philene to take thereof what shee thought

good: and Philene craued no more than it pleased hym to gyue.

Eyther of them standinge vpon these termes Elisa, brake the

strife, who knowinge the force of loue, and the griefes incident

to his clients, by hir own harmes, moued to haue compassion vpon

the afflicted, turned towardes hir father, and sayd vnto him:

"Right louinge father, the contencion betweene Philene and you,

is risen of a matter which came by me. The treasure for which

you striue, and committed to the will of Philene, was found by

me, whereof if it please you both, I wyll take sutch order, as

both you shalbe satisfied." "I am contented," sayd hir father:

"And I likewise," aunswered Philene. Then sayd Eliza: "You

father hitherto haue had but one Daughter, which am I, vnto whom

like a chylde and louinge daughter I haue bene obedient, and

shalbe all the dayes of my lyfe: and I agayne haue receiued from

you sutch fatherly education, as your ability and state

required. This treasure I found and gaue to you for ease and

comfort of vs both: to me it yelded the only delectation of my

heart in choyse of husband: to you honour and estimation within

thys Citty. Wherefore, sith the principal came from me, and the

right resteth in this careful maiden, my desire is, that where

before you had but one daughter, you will adopt this mayden for

another, and thinke that you have twaine, and that you will

intreate Philene in like sort as if shee were my sister: and

where this Inheritance and reuenue wherewith now you be

possessed, and this casket also ought to be onely myne after

your decease, for that you haue no sonnes, nor other Issue, my

desire is that you geue vnto her the halfe, and that you accept

hir for your daughter, as I doe meane to take hir for my sister:

and accordingely to vse hir duringe lyfe." With these wordes

Elisa imbraced Philene, and louingly dyd kisse hir, sayinge vnto

hir: "For my sister I entertayn thee Philene." And then shee

tooke hir by the hand and gaue hir vnto hir father with these

wordes: "Beholde father, your new daughter, whom I beseech you

so hartily to loue as you do Elisa your naturall chylde." The

father praysed the curtesie of Elisa, and receiued Philene for

his daughter and was contented wyth the Arbitrament of his

Daughter. But Elisa perceyuing hir husband to be somewhat

offended therewyth, specially for that the same should be

deuided into two partes, which was like to haue bene hys wholly

before, persuaded hym by gentle meanes to be content wyth that

agreement: and although at the first he could not well brooke

the liberality of his wyfe, yet at length viewinge the good

behauiour and gentle disposition of Philene, and the contented

minde of his father in law, together with the noble nature of

his wyfe, and hir wise aduertisement of Fortune's fickle

assurance, yelded, and acknowledged Philene for hys kinswoman.

And so Philene put in possession of the halfe of those goods,

whereof she was altogether out of hope, was well satisfied, and

had the Romane for hir father, Elisa for hir sister, and hir

husband for hir kinsman. That valyant Roman was so careful ouer

Philene, as if she had ben his owne daughter, and so indeuored,

as he brought to passe that she obteined hir beloued Scicilian

to husbande: who also sent for hym to Carthage, where he

continued with his wife in the Romane's house, and loved them

both so dearely as though he had ben father to the one, and

father in lawe to the other. In this maner these two poore

wenches attained their two husbands, for hauing of whom, theyr

onely care was for Ryches, and for lacke thereof were dryuen to

despayre: and in the ende both (though diuersly, and the one

more fortunat than the other) recouered riches, and with the

same theyr husbandes, to their heartes singular ioye and

contentation. Which lucke I wyshe to all other poore Girles (but

not hangyng rype, or louynge in despayre) that bend their mindes

on Mariage, and seeke to people by that estate, their countrey

common wealth. But leauinge for a time these Tragicall Nouels

and heauy chaunces, wee purpose to remember some morall matters

right worthy of remembraunce: Letters they bee from a godly

Pagane clerk, the famous Philosopher Plutarch, Schoolemaister to

an Emperour of no lesse vertue, than hys mayster's Schoole and

mynde was fraught with diuine Precepts. Wherefore proceede (good

Reader) to continue the paynes vpon the readinge of these, so

well as thou hast vouchsafed to employ thy time before. They

shal no lesse delite thee, if vertue brooke thee, they shal no

lesse content thee if duty please thee, than any delightsome

thing, whereupon (at any tyme) thou hast employed thy vacaunte

tyme.

The Palace of Pleasure, Volume 2 · 第 48 / 63 题