_The Lorde of Virle, by the commaundement of a fayre younge
Wydow called Zilia, for hys promise made, the better to
attaine hir loue, was contented to remayne dumbe the space of
three yeares, and by what meanes he was reuenged, and obtayned
hys suite._
They that haue spent their youth in humayne follies, and haue
followed the Vanities of loue, not addicted to the contemplation
of high secrets, nor haue made entry here on Earth, to inlarge
and amplyfy the boundes of their honor and Estimation. Those
Worldlings (I say) and embracers of transitory pleasures, shall
witnesse with me, and confirme, this olde and auncient Theme and
proposition to be true which is: that the Beauty, and comely
grace of a Woman, is the very true and naturall adamant (for the
attractiue power, and agreeable quality there inclosed,) to draw
vnto it the hearts, and affections of men: which hath made man
beleue, that the same onely essence, was sent downe from aboue
to serue both for ioy and torment together. For the amplyfyinge
of which proposition, I will not bring forth, the immoderate
loue of Paris by forsaking his owne Natiue country of Troy, to
visite fayre Helena in Greece, nor yet tell how Hercules gaue
ouer his mace to handle the Distaffe, vpon the commaundement of
Omphale, nor yet how Sampson and Salomon were sotted in the
slaueries of Dalida and other concubines. But my discourse here
folowing shall ring out a loud Peale, of a meane Gentlewoman,
of Piedmount, that shewed no fauor or Curtesy at all to her
suppliant, a Gentleman not inferior to Paris for his actiuity
and prowesse: which for her seruice and atchyeues of her loue,
refused not to bee dombe the space of many yeares, and to giue
ouer the best porcion of his sences wherewith the Almighty, made
Man differente from brute and sauage Beastes. If this thing
declare not sufficiently the force and power of that attractiue
and drawing power in woman, no other example is worthy to be
preferred. Those aforesayd and many other haue voluntarily
yoaked themselues in the chains of loue's obedience, rendreth
the masse of their mirye corps to the slauery thereof, but that
any haue franckely tyed vp their Tongue, the chiefest Instrument
of the bodies furniture: in honorable assembly or where
dexterity of seruice shoulde make him glorious, the like of that
subiection was neuer seene or founde. And yet our fathers dayes
did see this miracle wrought by a Woman, vpon a Gentleman very
wise, and well trained vp in all good exercyse. This example,
and what this Malapert Dame did gaine, by the penance of this
louing knight, shal in this discourse be manifestly pronounced.
The City of Thurin (as is well knowne to them that haue
trauelled Piedmont) is the ornament and bulwark of al the
Countrey, so well for the natural site of the place, as for the
artificial and industrious worke of man's hande, which hath
instaured and furnished with great magnificence, that which
nature had indifferently enryched, for the rudenesse and litle
knowledg of the time past. Now besides this stately and strong
city, there standeth a litle towne named Montcall, a place no
lesse strong, and of good defence, than wel planted in a faire
and rich soyle. In this Towne there dwelt a Gentlewoman a widow
called Zilia, beautiful amongs the most excellent fayre
Gentlewomen of the countrey, which country (besides other happy
and heauenly influences) seemeth to be specially fauored, for
hauing the most fairest and curteous Gentlewomen, aboue any
other within the compasse of Europa. Notwithstanding this faire
Silia, degenerating from the nature of hir climate was so
haggard and cruel, as it might haue ben thought, she had ben
rather nourished and brought vp amid the most desert mountaines
of Sauoy, than in the pleasant and rich Champian Countreye,
watred and moystened with Eridanus, the father of Riuers, at
this Day called the Pau, the largenesse whereof doth make men to
maruel, and the fertility allureth ech man to be desirous to
inhabit vpon the same. This fayre rebellious Widow, albeit,
that she was not aboue XXIV. or XXV. yeres of age, yet
protested neuer more to be subiect to man, by mariage, or
otherwise, thinking her selfe wel able to liue in single life:
a Minde truly very holy and commendable, if the pricks of the
flesh do obey the first motions and adhortations of the spirit,
but where youth, pleasure, and multitude of suters do addresse
their endeuour against that chastity (which is lightly
enterprysed) the Apostels counsel oughte to be followed, who
willeth yong widows to marry in Christ, to auoid the temptations
of the flesh, and to flye offensiue slaunder and dishonour
before men. This mistresse Zilia (hir husband being dead) only
bent hir selfe to enrich hir house, and to amplify the
possession of a little infant which she had by hir late departed
Husband. After whose death she became so couetous, as hauing
remoued, and almost cut of quite the wonted port she vsed in hir
husband's dayes, imployed hir maids in houshold affaires,
thinking nothing to be wel don that passed not through hir owne
Handes. A thinge truely more prayse worthy, than to see a sorte
of effeminate, fine and daynty fyngred Dames, that thinke their
honor diminished yf they holde but their Nose ouer theyr
Housholde Matters, where theyr Hande and Dylygence were more
requisite, for so mutch as the mystresse of a House is not
placed the Cheyfe to heare onely the reasons of them that Labor,
but thereunto to put hir hands, for hir presente eye seemeth to
giue a certyn perfection to the worke that the Seruauntes doe by
hir commaundement. Which caused the Hystoryans in tymes past, to
describe vnto the Posterity a Gentlewoman called Lucretia,
not babbling amongs young girles, or running to feastes and
Maigames, or Masking in the night, withoute any regard of the
honor and dygnitye of hir race and house, but in hir Chaumber
Sowing, Spinning and Carding, amids the Troup of hir Mayden
Seruaunts: wherein our mistresse Zilia passed the moste part of
hir time, spending no minute of the day, without some honest
exercise, for that she the rather did for that she liked not to
be seene at Feasts, or Bankets, or to be gadding vp and downe
the streetes, wandring to Gardeyns or places of pleasure,
although to sutch places youth sometimes may haue their honest
repayre to refresh their wearied bodies with vertuous
recreation, and thereby reioyce the heauinesse of their mynde.
But this Gentlewoman was so seuere in following the rigorous,
and constrayned maners of our auncients, as impossible it was,
to see hir abroade: except it were when she went to the Church
to heare deuine seruice. This Gentlewoman seemed to haue studied
the diuinity of the Ægyptians which paynt Venus holding a key
before hir mouth, and setting hir Fote vpon a Tortus, signifying
vnto us thereby the duety of a chaste Woman, whose tongue ought
to bee locked, that shee speak not but in tyme and place, and
her feete not straying or wandering, but to keepe hir selfe
within the limits of hir owne house, except it be to serue God,
and sometimes to render bounden duety to them which brought them
into light. Moreouer Zilia was so religious (I will not say
superstitious) and rigorous to obserue customes, as she made it
very squeimish and straung to kisse a Gentleman that met hir,
a ciuility which of long time hath bene obserued, and yet
remayneth in the greatest parte of the Worlde, that Gentlewomen
do welcome straungers and Guests into their houses with an
honest and chaste kisse. Notwithstandinge the institution and
profession of this Wyddow had wiped away this poyncte of hir
youth: whether it were for that she esteemed hirselfe so fayre
as all men were vnworthy to touch the vtter partes of so rare
and pretious a vessell, or that hir great, and inimitable
chastity made hir so straunge, to refuse that which hir duety
and honour woulde haue permitted hir to graunt. There chaunced
about this time that a Gentleman of the Countrey, called Sir
Philiberto of Virle, esteemed to be one of the most valiaunt
gentlemen in those parts, repayred vpon an holy day to Montcall,
(whose house was not very farre of the Towne) and being at
diuine seruice, in place of occupying his Sence and Mynde in
heauenly things, and attending the holy words of a Preacher,
which that day declared the worde of God vnto the people, hee
gaue himselfe to contemplate the excellent beauty of Zilia, who
had put of for a while hir mourninge vayle, that she might the
better beholde the good father that preached, and receyue a
little ayre, because the day was extreme hot. The Gentleman at
the first blushe, when hee sawe that sweete temptation before
his eyes, thought himselfe rapt aboue the thirde heauen, and not
able to withdraw his looke, he fed himselfe with the Venome
which by little, and little, so seased vpon the soundest parts
of hys mynde, as afterwards being rooted in heart, he was in
daunger still to remayne there for a Guage, wythout any hope of
ease or comforte, as more amply this followinge discourse, shall
giue you to vnderstande. Thus all the morning hee behelde the
Gentlewoman, who made no more accoumpt of theym, that wyth great
admiration did behold hir, than they themselues did of their
life, by committing the same to the handes of a Woman so cruell.
This Gentleman being come home to his lodging enquired what
fayre Wyddow that was, of what calling, and behauiour, but hee
heard tell of more truely than he would of good will haue known
or desired to haue ben in hir, whom he did presently chose to be
the only mistresse of his most secret thoughts. Now
vnderstandynge well the stubburne Nature, and vnciuile Manner of
that Wyddowe, hee coulde not tell what parte to take, nor to
what Sainct to vow his Deuotion, to make suite vnto hir hee
thought it tyme lost, to bee hir Seruaunt, it was not in his
power, hauing already inguaged his Lyberty into the handes of
that beauty, whych once holding captiue the hearte of men, will
not infraunchise them so soone as Thought and Wyll desire.
Wherefore baytinge hymself with hope, and tickled wyth loue, he
determined whatsoeuer chaunced, to loue hir, and to assay if by
long seruice he could lenifie that harde hearte, and make tender
that vnpliaunt wyll, to haue pitty vppon the payne which shee
saw him to endure, and to recompence hys laboursome Trauayles,
which hee thought were vertuously imployed for gayning of hir
good grace. And vpon this settled deliberation, he retired
agayne to Virle (so was his house named) where disposinge hys
thinges in order, he retorned agayne to Montcall to make his
long resiaunce there, to put in readines his furniture, and to
welde his artillary with sutch industry, as in the ende he might
make a reasonable breach to force and take the place: for
surprising whereof, hee hazarded great daungers, the rather that
himselfe might first be taken. And where his assaults and
pollicies could not preuayle, hee minded to content his Fancy
wyth the pleasure and pastyme that hee was to receyue in the
contemplation of a thing so fayre, and of an image so excellent.
The memory of whom rather increased his paine than yelded
comfort, did rather minister corrosiue poyson, than giue remedy
of ease, a cause of more cruell and sodayne death, than of
prolonged lyfe. Philiberto then being become a citizen of
Montcal, vsed to frequent the Church more than hee was wont to
doe, or his deuotion serued hym, and that bycause he was not
able elsewhere to enioy the presence of hys Saynct, but in
places and Temples of Deuotion: which no doubt was a very holy
and worthy Disposition, but yet not meete or requisite to
obserue sutch holy places for those intentes, which ought not to
bee prophaned in things so fonde and foolishe, and Actes so
contrary to the Institution, and mynde of those, whych in tymes
past were the firste Founders and Erectoures of Temples.
Seignior Philiberto then mooued wyth that Religious
Superstition, made no Conscience at al to speake vnto hir wythin
the Church. And true it is, when she went out of the same, he
(mooued wyth a certayne familiar curtesie, naturall to eche
Gentleman of good bringing vp) many tymes conducted hir home to
hir house, not able for all that (what so euer hee sayd) to win
the thing that was able to ingender any little solace, which
greeued him very much: for the cruell woman fained as though she
vnderstoode nothing of that he sayde, and turnyng the Wayne
agaynst the Oxen, by contrary talke shee began to tell hym a
tale of a Tubbe, of matters of hir Householde, whereunto hee
gaue so good heede, as shee did to the hearing of his
complaynts. Thus these two, of diuers Affections, and mooued
wyth contrary thoughtes, spake one to another, without apt
aunswere to eyther's talke. Whereby the Gentleman conceyued an
assured argument of hys Ruine, who voyde of all hope, and
meanes, practised with certayne Dames of the Citty, that had
familiar accesse vnto hyr house, and vsed frequent conuersation
wyth hys rebellious Lady Zilia. To one of them, then hee
determined to communicate hys secrets, and to doe hir to
vnderstand in deede the only cause that made him to soiorne at
Montcall, and the griefe which he suffered, for that he was not
able to discouer his torment vnto hir, that had giuen him the
wounde. Thys Gentleman therefore, repayred to one of his
neyghbours, a Woman of good corage, which at other tymes had
experimented what meates they feede on that sit at Venus Table,
and what bitternesse is intermingled amid those drinckes that
Cupido quaffeth vnto hys Guestes. Vnto whom (hauing before
coniured hir to keepe close that whych hee woulde declare) he
discouered the secrets of hys mynde, expressinge hys loue
wythout naming hys Lady before he heard the aunswere of hys
Neyghbour, who vnderstanding almost to what purpose the
affections of the Pacient were directed, sayd vnto hym: "Sir,
needful it is not to vse longe orations, the loue that I beare
you for the honest qualities whych hytherto I haue knowne to be
in you, shall make me to keepe silent, that whereof as yet I do
not know the matter, and the assuraunce you haue, not to bee
abused by mee, constrayneth me to warrant you, that I wyll not
spare to do you all the pleasure and honest seruice I can."
"Ah mistresse," (aunswered sir Philiberto) "so long as I lyue,
I will not fayle to acknowledge the Liberality of your endeuour
by offeringe your selfe paciently to heare, and secretly, to
keepe the Words I speake accordingly as they deserue: and that
(whych is more than I require) you doe assure me that I shall
finde sutch one of you as wil not spare to gieue your ayde.
Alas, I resemble the good and wyse Captayne, who to take a forte
doeth not only ayde himselfe with the forwardnesse, and
valiaunce of his Souldiers, but to spare them, and to auoyde
slaughter for makinge of way, planteth his cannon, and battereth
the Walle of the fort, which hee would assaile, to the intent
that both the Souldier, and the ordinaunce may perfourme and
suffise the perfection of the plat, which hee hath framed and
deuised within his pollitike heade. I haue already encouraged my
souldiers, and haue lost the better part truely in the skirmish
which hath deliuered vnto mee my sweete cruell Ennimy. Now I am
driuen to make ready the fire, which resteth in the kindled
match of your conceiptes, to batter the fort hitherto
inexpugnable, for any assault that I can make." "I vnderstand
not" (sayd she smilyng) "these labyrynths of your complaynts,
except you speake more playn. I neuer haunted the Warres, ne
knewe what thynge it is to handle weapons, improper and not
seemely for myne estate and kynde." "The Warre" (quod he)
{"}whereof I speake, is so naturall and common, as I doubt not,
but you haue sometymes assayed, with what sleightes and
camisados men vse to surpryse their enimies, howe they plant
their ambushes, and what meanes both the assaylant and defendant
ought to vse." "So far as I see" (sayd shee) "there resteth
nothing for vs, but the assurance of the field, sith wee bee
ready to enter in combat: and doe thinke that the fort shall not
bee harde to winne, by reason of the Walles, dikes, rampers,
bulwarks, platformes, counterforts, curtines, vamewres and
engins which you haue prepared, besides a numbre of false brayes
and flanks, placed in good order, and the whole defended from
the thundringe Cannons and Bombardes, which do amaze the
wandring enemy in the field. But I pray you leauing these
warlike Tumults, to speak more boldly without these
extrauagantes and digressions, for I take pitye to see you thus
troubled: ready to exceede the boundes of your modesty and
wonted wysedome." "Do not maruell at all mistresse" (quod he)
"sith accordynge to new occurrentes and alterations, the
purpose, talke, and counsel ordinarily do change I am become the
seruaunt of one which maketh me altogither lyke vnto those that
bee madde, and bound in Chaines, not able to speake or say any
thing, but what the spyrites that be in them, do force them to
vtter. For neither will I thynke, or speake any thing, but that
which the Enchaunter Loue doth commaunde and suffer to expresse,
who so rygorously doth vexe my hearte, as in place wher
bouldenesse is most requysite, hee depriueth me of force, and
leaueth mee without any Countenance. And being alone, God
knoweth how frankly I doe wander in the place, where myne enemy
may commaunde, and with what hardinesse I do inuade hir
prouince. Alas, is it not pity then to see these diuersities in
one selfe matter, and vpon one very thing? Truely I would endure
wyllingly all these trauailes, if I wyst in the end, my seruice
woulde be accepted, and hoped that my Martirdome shoulde fynde
releefe: but liuing in this vncertainty, I must needes norysh
the hunger and solace of the vnhappy, which are wishes and vaine
hopes, trusting that some God wyll gayne me a faythful friend
that will assaye to rid me from the hell, into the which I am
throwne, or else to shorten thys Miserable lyfe, whych is a
hundred tymes more paynfull than Death." In sayinge so, he began
to sighe so straungely as a man would haue thought that two
Smithes sledges working at the forge, had gyuen two blowes at
his stomake, so vehement was the inclosed winde within his
heart, that made him to fetche forth those terrible sighes,
the Eyes not forgetting to yeld forth a Riuer of Teares, which
gushynge forthe at the centre of hys Hearte, mounted into his
Braynes, at lengthe to make issue through the Spoute, proper to
the Chanell of sutch a Fountayne. Which the Gentlewoman seyng,
moued with compassion, coulde not contain also from Weepyng,
and therewythall sayde vnto him: "Although mine estate and
reputation, which to this day I have kept vnspotted, defend the
vse of my good wyl in al things that may defame mine honor, yet
sir, seing the extremity which you suffer to be vnfained, I wil
somwhat stretch my conscience, and assay to succor you with so
good heart, as frankely you trust me with the secrets of your
thought. It resteth then now for me to know what she is, to
whome your deuocions be inclined whose heart and mind I wil so
relief with the taste of your good wil, as I dare giue warrant,
her appetit shal accept your profred seruice, and truly that
woman may count her self happy that shal intertain the offer of
a gentleman that is so honest and curteous, who meaneth with al
fidelity to aduance and honor, not onely the superficial
ornament of hir beauty, but the inward vertues of hir constant
mind. And truly the earth seldom yeldeth those frutes in the
harts of men in these our barren days, they being ouer growen
with the shrubbes of disloialty the same choke vp the plantes of
true Fidelity, the sedes whereof are sowen and replanted in the
soyle of womens hartes, who not able to depart and vse the force
and effects thereof will put vpon them conditions that bee
cruell, to punish the Foolysh indiscreation of tryfling Louers,
who disguised with the vizard of fained friendship, and paynted
with coloured Amity, languishing in sighes and sorrowes, goe
aboute to assay to deceiue the flexible Nature of them that
prodigally employ theyr honor into the hands of sutch cruel,
inconstante and foolysh suters." "Ah Mistresse" answered the
Gentleman: "howe may I bee able to recompence that onely
benefite which you promyse me now? But be sure that you see
heere a Souldier and Gentleman presente which shall no lesse bee
prodigall of hys Lyfe to doe you seruyce, than you bee lyberall
of your reputation, to ease his Paines. Now sith it pleaseth you
to shew sutch fauour to offer me your helpe and support in that
which payneth me, I require no more at your hands, but to beare
a letter which I shall wryte to mystresse Zilia, with whome I am
so farre in loue, as if I do receiue no solace of my griefe,
I know not howe I shall auoyde the cuttyng of the Threede, whych
the spynning systers haue twisted to prolonge my lyfe, that
henceforth can receiue no succor if by your meanes I do not
atchieue the thing that holdeth me in bondage." The Gentlewoman
was very sorrowful, when she vnderstoode that Seignior
Philiberto had bent his Loue vpon sutch one, as would not
consente to that requeste, and mutch lesse would render rest
vnto hys myseryes, and therefore enforced hir selfe to moue that
Foolyshe Fantasye out of his head. But he beyng already resolued
in thys myshappe, and the same perceyued by her in the ende she
sayde: "To the intente sir that you may not thynke that I doe
meane to excuse the Satysfactyon of my promyse, make youre
Letters, and of my Fayth I wil delyuer them. And albeyt I knowe
verye well what bee the Honoures and Glorye of that Pylgryme,
yet I wyll render to you agayne the true aunswere of hir speache
whereby you maye consider the gayne you are lyke to make, by
pursuing a Woman (although faire) of so small desert." The
Gentleman fayled not to gyue her heartye Thankes, prayinge hir
to tarry vntyll hee had written his letters: whereunto she most
willingly obeyed. He then in his chaumber, began to fantasie a
hundred hundred matters to write vnto his Mistresse, and after
he had fixed theym in minde tooke Incke and Paper writing as
followeth.
_The Letters of Seignior Philiberto of Virle, to Mistresse
Zelia of Montcall._
"The passion extreeme which I endure, (Madame) through the
feruent loue I beare you, is sutch, as besides that I am assured
of the little affection that resteth in you towards me agayne,
in respect of that incredible seruitude which my desire is ready
to employ, I haue no power to commaunde my force, ne yet to rid
my selfe from my vowed deuotion and will to your incomparable
beauty, although euen from the beginning I felt the pricks of
the mortall shot which now torments my mynde. Alas, I do not
know vnder what influence I am borne, nor what Fate doth guide
my yeares, sith I doe perceyue that heauen, and loue, and hir
whom alone I honor, doe confirme themselues with one assent to
seeke myne ouerthrow. Alas, I thinke that all the powers aboue
conspired together, to make me be the faythfull man, and
perpetuall seruaunt of you my mistresse deare, to whom alone,
I yelde my heart afflicted as it is, and the ioy of hidden
thoughts noursed in my minde, by the contemplation and
remembraunce of your excellent and perfect graces, whereof, if I
be not fauored, I waight for death, from whych euen now I fly:
not for feare of that whych she can doe, or of the vgly shape
which I conceyue to be in hir, but rather to confirme my life,
this Body for instrument to exercise the myndes conceypts for
doinge your Commaundements, which Body I greatly feare shall
proue the vnworthy cruelty, both of your gentle nouriture, and
of those graces which Dame Nature most aboundantly hath powred
in you. Be sure Madame that you shall shortlye see the Ende of
him, which attendeth yet to beare so mutch as in him doeth lye,
the vehement loue into an other world, which maketh me to pray
you to haue pity on him, who (attending the rest and final
sentence of his Death or Lyfe) doth humbly kisse your white and
delicate handes, beseeching God to giue to you like ioy as his
is, who desireth to be,
Wholy yours or not to be at all
Philiberto of Virle.{"}
The Letter written, closed and sealed, he deliuered to his
neighbour, who promysed hym agayne to bryng him answere at
Night. Thus this Messenger went hir way, leauing this pore
languishyng Gentlemen hoping against hope, and fayning by and by
some ioy and pleasure, wherein he bained himself with great
contented minde. Then sodaynly he called againe vnto
remembraunce, the cruelty and inciuility of Zilia, which shewed
before his eyes so many kindes of Death, as tymes he thought
vpon the same, thinking that he saw the choler wherewith his
little curteous mistresse furiously did intertaine the
messenger, who findinge Zilia comming forth of a garden
adioining to her house, and hauing saluted her, and receiued
like curteous salutation would haue framed hir talke, by honest
excuse in the vnsemely charge and message: to hir vnto whom she
was sent, and for some ease to the pore gentleman which
approched nearer death than life. But Zilia break of hir talke
saying: "I maruell mutch Gentle neighbor to see you heere at
this time of the day, knowing your honest custome is to let
passe no minute of the tyme, except it be emploied in some
vertuous exercise." "Mistresse" answered the messanger, "I thank
you for the good opinion you haue of me, and doe pray you to
continue the same. For I do assure you that nothinge vayne or of
lyttle effect hath made me slacke my businesse at this time,
which me think I do not forslow, when I inforce my selfe to take
pitye and mercy vpon the afflicted and the substaunce thereof I
woulde disclose, if I feared not to offend you, and break the
loue which of long tyme betweene vs two hath ben frequented."
"I know not" (said Zilia) "whereunto your words do tend,
althoughe my Hearte doth throbbe, and minde doth moue to make
mee thinke your purposed talke to bee of none other effecte,
than to say a thing which may redound to the preiudice of myne
honour. Wherefore I pray you do not disclose what shall be
contrary, (be it neuer so little) to the duety of Dames of our
Degree." "Mystresse" sayd the Neighboure, "I suppose that the
lyttle Lykelihoode touchyng in you the thinge for the helpe
whereof I come, hath made you feele some passion, contrary to
the greefe of him that indures so mutch for your sake. Vnto
whome without feare of your dyspleasure, I gaue my Faithe in
Pledge to beare this Letter." In saying so, she drewe the same
out of hir Bosome, and presentyng it to cruell Silia, shee
sayde: "I beseeche you to thynke that I am not ignoraunt of the
evyll wherewyth the Lorde of Virle is affected, who wrote these
letters. I promysed him the duety of a Messanger towards you:
and so constrayned by promyse I could doe no lesse, than to
delyuer you that which hee doeth sende, with Seruyce sutch as
shall endure for euer, or yf it shall please you to accept him
for sutch a one as hee desireth to be. For my parte I onelye
praye you to reade the Contentes, and accordynglye to gyue mee
Aunswere: for my Fayth is no further bounde, but trustelye to
report to hym the thinge whereuppon you shall bee resolued."
Zilia which was not wonte to receyue very ofte sutch Ambassades,
at the firste was in mind to breake the Letters, and to retourne
the Messanger wythout aunswere to hir shame. But in the Ende
takyng Heart, and chaunging hir affectyon, she red the Letters
not without shewing some very great alteration outwardely, which
declared the meanynge of hir thought that diuersly did stryue
wythin hir mynde: for sodaynly shee chaunged her Coloure twyce
or thryce, nowe waxing pale lyke the increasynge Moone Eclypsed
by the Sunne, when shee feeleth a certayne darkenynge of hir
borowed Lyghte, then the Vermylyon and coloured Taynte came into
hir Face agayne, wyth no lesse hewe than the blomed Rose newelye
budded forthe, whych Encreased halfe so mutch agayne, the
excellencye of that wherewyth Nature had indued hir. And then
she paused a whyle. Notwythstandynge, after that shee had red,
and red agayne hir Louer's letter, not able to dissemble hir
foolishe anger which vexed hir heart, shee sayde vnto the
mistresse messanger: "I would not haue thought that you, being a
woman of good fame would (by abusinge your duety,) haue bene the
ambassador of a thing so vncomely for your Estate, and the house
where of you come, and towards me which neuer was sutch one
(ne yet pretend to be.) And trust me it is the loue I beare you,
which shall for this tyme make me dissemble what I thincke,
reseruinge in silence, that whych (had it come from an other)
I would haue published to the great dishonour of hir that maketh
so little accoumpt of my chastity. Let it suffice therefore in
tyme to come for you to thinke and beleue, that I am chaste and
honest: and to aduertise the Lord of Virle to proceede no
further in his sute: for rather will I dy, than agree to the
least poynct of that which hee desires of mee. And that he may
knowe the same, be well assured that hee shall take his leaue of
that priuate talke which sometimes I vsed with him to my great
dishonor, as far as I can see. Get you home therefore, and if
you loue your credit so mutch, as you see me curious of my
chastity, I beseech you vse no further talke of hym, whom I hate
so mutch, as his folly is excessiue, for I do little esteeme the
amorous Toyes and fayned passions, whereunto sutch louinge
fooles doe suffer themselues to be caried headlong." The
messenger ashamed to heare hir selfe thus pinched to the quicke,
aunswered hir very quietly without mouing of hir pacience:
"I pray to God (mistresse) that he may recouer the different
disease al most incurable in eyther of you twayne, the same
being so vehement, as altered into a phrenesie, maketh you in
this wyse, incapable of reason." Finishing these wordes she
tooke hir leaue of Zilia, and arriued to the Louer's house,
she founde him lying vpon his bed, rather dead than a liue: who
seeing his neyghbor returned backe agayne, with Face so sadde,
not tarying for the aunswere which she was about to make, he
began to say: "Ah infortunate Gentleman, thou payest wel the
vsury of thy pleasures past when thou diddest lyue at lyberty,
free from those trauayles which now do put thee to death,
without suffering thee to dy. Oh happy, and more than happy had
I ben, if inconstant Fortune had not deuised this treason,
wherein I am surprised and caught, and yet no raunsome can
redeeme from prison, but the most miserable death that euer
poore louer suffred. Ah Mistresse, I knowe well that Zilia
esteemeth not my Letters, ne yet regardeth my loue, I confesse
that I haue done you wrong by thus abusing your honest amity,
for the solace of my payne. Ah fickle loue, what foole is hee
which doth commit hymselfe to the rage and fury of the Waues of
thy foming and tempestuous Seas? Alas I am entred in, with
great, and gladsome cheere, through the glistering shew before
myne eyes of the faynt shining Sunne beames, whereunto as soone
as I made sayle, the same denied me light of purpose to thrust
me forth into a thousand winds, tempests, and raging stormes of
Rayne. By meanes whereof I see no meane at all to hope for end
of my mishaps: and mutche lesse the shipwracke that sodainely
may rid me from this daunger more intollerable, than if I were
ouerwhelmed wythin the bottomlesse depth of the mayne Ocean. Ah
deceyuer and wily Souldiour, why hast thou made me enterprise
the voyage farre of from thy solitudes and Wildernesse, to geue
me ouer in the middest of my necessity? Is this thy maner
towards them which franckly followe thy tract, and pleasauntly
subdue themselues to thy trayterous follies? At least wyse if I
sawe some hope of health would indure without complaynt thereof:
yea, and it were a more daungerous tempest. But O good God, what
is he of whom I speake? Of whom do I attend for solace and
releefe? Of him truely which is borne for the ouerthrow of men.
Of whom hope I for health? Of the most noysom poyson that euer
was mingled with the subtilest druggs that euer were. Whom shall
I take to be my Patron? He which is in ambush traiterously to
catch me, that he may martir me worsse than he hath done before.
Ah cruell Dame, that measurest so euill, the good will of him
that neuer purposed to trespasse the least of thy
commaundements. Ah, that thy beauty should finde a Subiect so
stubborne in thee, to torment them that loue and honor thee.
O maigre and vnkinde recompence, to expell good seruaunts that
be affectionate to a seruice so iust and honest. Ah Basiliske,
coloured ouer with pleasure and swetnesse, how hath thy sight
dispersed his poyson throughout mine heart? At least wise if I
had some drugge to repell thy force, I should liue at ease, and
that without this sute and trouble. But I feele and proue that
this sentence is more than true:
No physicke hearbes the griefe of loue can cure,
Ne yet no drugge that payne can well assure.
Alas, the seare cloath will not serue, to tent the wound the
time shall be but lost, to launch the sore, and to salue the
same it breeds myne ouerthrow. To be short, any dressing can not
auayle, except the hand of hir alone which gaue the wounde.
I woulde to God shee sawe the bottome of my heart, and viewed
the Closet of my mynde, that shee might iudge of my firme fayth
and know the wrong she doth me by hir rigor and froward will.
But O vnhappy man, I feele that she is so resolued in obstinate
mynde, as hir rest seemeth only to depend vpon my payne, hir
ease vpon my griefe, and hir ioy vpon my sadnesse." And saying
so, began straungly to weepe, and sighing betwene, lamented,
in so mutch as, the mistresse messaunger not able to abide the
griefe and paynefull trauayle wherein shee saw the poore
gentleman wrapped, went home to hir house: notwithstanding she
told afterward the whole successe of his loue to a Gentleman,
the friend of Philiberto. Now this Gentleman was a companion in
armes to the Lorde of Virle, and a very familyar Freend of his,
that went about by all meanes to put away those foolishe, and
Franticke conceypts out of his fansie, but hee profited as mutch
by his endeuour, as the passionate gayned by his heauines: who
determining to dye, yelded so mutch to care and grief, as he
fell into a greeuous sicknes, which both hindred him from
sleepe, and also his Appetite to eate and drinke, geuing
himselfe to muse vppon his follies, and fansied dreames, without
hearing or admitting any man to speake vnto hym. And if
perchaunce hee hearkened to the persuasions of his frends, he
ceassed not his complaynt, bewayling the cruelty of one, whom he
named not. The Phisitians round about were sought for, and they
coulde geue no iudgement of his malady (neyther for all the
Signes they saw, or any inspection of his Vrine, or touching of
his pulse) but sayd that it was melancholie humor distilling
from the Brayne, that caused the alteration of his sense:
howbeit their Arte and knowledge were void of skil to evacuate
the grosse Bloud that was congeled of his disease. And therefore
dispayryng of his health, with hands full of Money, they gaue
him ouer. Which his friend and Companion perceiuing, maruellous
sorry for his affliction he ceased not to practise all that he
could by Letters, gifts, promises and complaynts to procure
Zilia to visite her pacient. For hee was assured that her onely
presence was able to recouer him. But the cruell woman excused
hir self that she was a Widow and that it shoulde bee vnseemely
for one of hir degree (of intente) to visite a Gentleman, whose
Parentage and Alliance she knew not. The soliciter of the Lord
of Virle his health, seeing how lyttle hys prayers auailed to
his implacable gryefe could not tell to what Sainct he might vow
himself for Counsell, in the ende resolued to sollicite hir
again that hadde done the first Message, that she myght eftsons
deuise some meanes to bryng them to speake togither. And fynding
hir for hys purpose, thus he sayed vnto hir: "Mystresse I
maruell mutch that you make so little accompt of the pore lorde
of Virle who lyeth in his Bedde attending for Death. Alas, if
euer pitty had place in Woman's heart, I beseech you to gyue
your ayde to help him, the meane of whose recouery, is not
ignoraunt vnto you." "God is my witnesse" (quod she) "what
trauaile my heart is willing to vndertake to helpe that
Gentleman, but in things impossible, it is not in man to
determine, or rest assured iudgement. I wil go vnto him and
comfort hym so well as I can, that peraduenture my Promyses may
ease some part of his payne: and afterward we wil at leysure
better consider, what is best for vs to do." Herevppon they
wente together to see the Pacient, that beganne to looke more
chearefull than he dyd before: who seeing the Gentlewoman, said
vnto hir: "Ah mistres, I would to God I had neuer proued your
fidelity, then had I not felt the passing cruell Heart of hir,
that esteemeth more hir honour to practise rigour and tyranny
than with gentlenesse to maintaine the Lyfe of a pore feeble
knight." "Sir," (said she,) "be of good cheare, doe not thus
torment your selfe: for I trust to gyue you remedy betwene thys
and to morrowe, and wyll doe myne endeuor to cause you to speake
with hir, vppon whome wrongfully perchaunce you doe complayne,
and who dare not come vnto you, least ill speakers conceiue
occasion of suspicion, who wil make the report more slaunderous,
then remedie for the cause of your disease." "Ah" (sayd the
pacient) "howe ioyefull and pleasaunt is your talke? I see wel
that you desire my health, and for that purpose would haue me
drinke those liquors, which superficiallay appeare to bee
sweete, which afterwardes may make my lyfe a hundred tymes more
faint and feeble than now it is." "Be you there," sayed she?
"And I sweare vnto you by my faith not to faile to keepe my
promyse, to cause you speake alone with mistresse Zilia." "Alas,
mistresse" sayd the louer, "I aske no more at your haudes, that
I may heare with myne own eares the last sentence of hope or
defiance." "Well put your trust in me," sayd she, "and take no
thought but for your health. For I am assured ere it be longe,
to cause hir to come vnto you, and then you shall see whether,
my diligence shall aunswere the effect of myne attempt." "Me
thinke already" (quod he) "that sicknesse is not able to stay me
from going to hir that is the cause, sith her onely remembraunce
hath no lesse force in mee, than the clearnesse of the Sun
beames to euaporate the thicknesse of the morning mistes." With
that the Gentlewoman tooke her leaue of hym, and went home
attendynge oportunity to speake to Zilia, whome two or three
Dayes after she mette at Church, and they two beyng alone
togither in a Chapell, she sayd vnto hir with fayned Teares,
forced from her Eyes, and sending forth a Cloude of sighes,
these woordes: "Madame, I nothing doubt at al, but the last
Letters which I brought you, made you conceiue some il opinion
of me, which I do guesse by the frownyng countenance that euer
sithens you haue borne me. But when you shall knowe the hurte
which it hath done, I thinke you wyll not be so harde, and voyde
of pitye, but with pacyence hearken that whych I shall saye, and
therewythall bee moued to pitye the state of a pore Gentleman,
who by your meanes is in the pangs of death." Zilia, which til
then neuer regarded the payne and sicknesse of the pacient,
began to sorrow, with sutch passion, as not to graunt him
further fauor than he had already receiued, but to finde some
means to ease him of hys gryefe, and then to gyue hym ouer for
euer. And therefore she sayd vnto hir neyghbor: "My good frend,
I thought that all these sutes had beene forgotten, vntill the
other day a certen Gentleman praied me to go see the Lord of
Virle, who told me as you do now, that he was in great daunger.
And now vnderstanding by you that he waxeth worsse, and worsse,
I will be ruled, being well assured of your honesty and vertue,
and that you will not aduise me to any thing that shall be
hurtfull to myne honour. And when you haue done what you can,
you shal winne of me so mutch as nothinge, and geeue no ease to
him at all that wrongfully playneth of my cruelty. For I purpose
not to do any priuate fact with him, but that which shall be
meete for an honest Gentlewoman, and sutch as a faythfull tutor
of hir chastity, may graunt to an honest and vertuous
Gentleman." "His desire is none other" (sayd the gentlewoman)
"for he craueth but your presence, to let you wit by word, that
he is ready to do the thing you shall commaund him." "Alas"
sayde Zilia, "it is impossible for me to go to hym without
suspition, which the common people will lightly conceiue of
sutch light and familiar Behauiour. And rather would I dy than
aduenture mine honor hitherto conserued wyth great seuerity and
diligence. And yet sith you say, that he is in extremes of
death, for your sake, I wil not stick to heare him speake."
"I thanke you" (sayd the Messanger) "for the good wil you beare
me and for the help you promise vnto the poore passionate
Gentleman, whom these newes wil bring on foote againe, and who
al the dayes of his life wil do you honor for that good turne."
"Sith it is so (sayd Zilia) to morrow at noone let him come vnto
my house, wherein a low chamber, he shall haue leysure to say to
mee his mind. But I purpose by God's help, to suffer him no
further than that which I haue already graunted." "As it shall
please you" (sayd hir neighbour) "for I craue no more of you but
that only fauour, which as a Messanger of good Newes, I go to
shew hym, recommending my selfe in the meane tyme to your
commaunde." And then she went vnto the pacient, whom she found
walkinge vp and downe the Chaumber, indifferent lusty of his
person, and of colour meetely freshe for the tyme hee left his
Bed." Now when sir Philiberto saw the Messanger, hee sayde vnto
hir: "And how now mystresse, what Newes? Is Zilia so stubborne
as shee was wont to be?" "You may see hir" (sayd she) "if to
morrowe at Noone you haue the heart to aduenture to goe vnto hir
house." "Is it possible" (sayd hee embracing hir) "that you haue
procured my delyueraunce from the misery, wherewith I haue so
long tyme beene affected? Ah trusty and assured frende, all the
dayes of my lyfe I wil remember that pleasure, and benefite,
and by acknowledging of the same, shall be ready to render like,
when you please to commaunde, or els let me be counted the most
vncurteous Gentleman that euer made profession of loue: I will
go by God's help to see mistresse Zilia, with intent to endure
all vexation, wherewith Dame Fortune shall afflict me,
protesting to vex my selfe no more, although I see my wished hap
otherwise to ende than my desert requireth. But yet agaynst
Fortune to contend, is to warre agaynst my selfe, whereof the
Victory can be but daungerous." Thus he passed all the day,
which seemed to last a thousand years to hym, that thought to
receyue some good intertaynment of hys Lady, in whose Bonds hee
was catched before he thought that Woman's malice could so farre
exceede, or display hir venomous Sting. And truly that man is
voyde of Sense, whych suffreth hym selfe so fondly to bee
charmed, sith the pearill of others before time abused, ought to
serue hym for exaumple. Women be vnto mankinde a greate
confusion, and vnwares for want of hys due foresight, it doth
suffer it selfe to bee bounde and taken captiue by the very
thing which hath no being to worke effect, but by free will.
Which Inchauntment of woman's beauty, being to men a pleasaunt
displeasure, I thinke to bee decked with that drawinge vertue,
and allurement, for chastising of their sinnes who once fed and
bayted with their fading fauour and poysoned sweetnesse, forget
their owne perfection, and nousled in their foolishe Fansies,
they seeke Felicity, and soueraygne delight, in the matter
wherein doth lie the summe of their vnhaps. Semblaly the
vertuous and shamefaste dames, haue not the eyes of their minde
so blindfolde, but that they see whereunto those francke
seruices, those disloyal Faythes and Vyces coloured and stuffed
with exterior vertue, doe tende: Who doubt not also but sutch
louers do imitate the Scorpion, whose Venome lieth in his Tayle,
the ende of which is loue beinge the ruine of good Renoume, and
the Decay of former vertues. For which cause the heauens, the
Frende of their sexe, haue giuen them a prouidence, which those
Gentle, vnfauoured louers terme to be rigor, thereby to proue
the deserts of Suters, aswell for their great contentation and
prayse, as for the rest of them that do them seruice. Howbeit
this iust and modest prouidence, that cruel Gentlewoman
practised not in hir louer, the Lord of Virle, who was so humble
a seruaunt of his vnkinde mistresse, as his obedience redounded
to his great mishap, and folly, as manifestly may appeare by
that whych followeth. Sir Philiberto then thinking to haue
gayned mutch by hauing made promise, liberally to speake to his
Lady, went vnto hir at the appoyncted hour, so well contented
truely of that grace, as all the vnkindnesse past was quite
forgot. Now being come to the Lodging of Mistresse Zilia, he
found hir in the deuised place with one of hir maydes attending
vpon hir. When she saw him, after a little cold entertaynment,
she began to say vnto him with fayned ioy, that neuer mooued hir
heart, these woordes: "Now sir, I see that your late sicknesse
was not so straunge as I was geeuen to vnderstand, for the good
state wherein I see you presently to be, which from henceforth
shall make mee beleue, that the passions of Men endure so long
as the cause of their affections continue within their fansies,
mutch like vnto looking Glasses, which albeit they make the
equality or excesse of things represented to appeare, yet when
the thing seene doth passe, and vanishe away, the formes also do
voyde out of remembraunce, resembling the wynde that lightly
whorleth to and fro through the plane of some deepe valley."
"Ah madame" aunswered he, "how easie a matter it is for the
griefelesse person to counterfayt both ioy and dissimulation in
one very thing, which not onely may forget the conceipt that
mooueth his affections, but the obiect must continually remayne
in him, as paynted, and grauen in his minde. Which truely as you
say is a looking Glasse, not sutch one for all that, as the
counterfayted apparaunce of represented formes hath like vigor
in it, that the first and true idees and shapes can so soone
vanish without leauiug most perfect impression of sutch formes
within the minde of him, that liueth vpon their onely
remembraunce. In this mirror then (which by reason of the hidden
force I may well say to bee ardent and burning) haue I looked so
well as I can, thereby to form the sustentation of my good hap.
But the imagined Shape not able to support sutch perfection,
hath made the rest of the body to fayle (weakned through the
mindes passions) in sutch wise as if the hope to recouer this
better parte halfe lost, had not cured both, the whole decay of
the one had followed, by thinking to giue some accomplishment in
the other. And if you see me Madame, attayne to some good state,
impute the same I beseech you, to the good will and fauor which
I receiue by seeing you in a priuate place, wherein I conceyue
greater ioy than euer I did, to say vnto you the thing which you
would not beleeue, by woords at other times proceeding from my
mouth, ne yet by aduertisement signified in my written letters.
Notwithstanding I think that my Martirdome is known to bee sutch
as euery man may perceyue that the Summe of my desire is onely
to serue and obey you, for so mutch as I can receyue no greater
comforte, than to be commaunded to make repayre to you, to let
you know that I am whole (although giuen ouer by Phisitians)
when you vouchsafe to employ me in your seruice, and thinke my
selfe raysed vp agayne from one hundred thousand deathes at
once, when it shall please you to haue pitty vpon the griefe and
passion, that I endure. Alas, what causeth my mishap, that the
heauenly beauty of yours should make proofe of a cruelty so
great? Haue you decreed Madame thus to torment mee poore
Gentleman that am ready to sacrifice myselfe in your seruice,
when you shall impart some fauour of your good grace? Do you
thinke that my passions be dissembled? Alacke, alacke, the
teares which I haue shed, the losse of lust to eate and drinke,
the weary passed nights, the longe contriued sleepelesse tyme
the restlesse turmoyle of my consumed corps may wel assure that
my loyall heart is of better merite than you esteeme." Then
seeing hir to fixe hir eyes vpon the ground, and thinkinge that
hee had already wonne hir, he reinforced his humble Speache, and
Sighing at fits betwene, not sparinge the Teares, whych trickled
downe alongs hys Face, he prosecuted his Tale as followeth: "Ah
fayre amongs the fayrest, woulde you blot that surpassing Beauty
with a cruelty so furious, as to cause the death of him which
loueth you better than himselfe? Ah my withered eyes, which
hitherto haue bene serued with two liuely springs to expresse
the hidden griefs within the heart, if your vnhap be sutch that
the only Mistresse of your contemplations, and cause of your
driery teares, doe force the Humor to encrease, which hitherto
in sutch wise hath emptied my Brayne, as there is no more in mee
to moisten your drouth, I am content to endure al extremity,
vntil my heart shal feele the last Pangue, that depriueth yee of
nourishment, and me of mine affected Ioy." The Gentlewoman,
whether shee was weary of that Oration, or rather doubted that
in the end hir chastity would receue some assault through the
dismeasured passion which she saw to continue in him, answered
with rigorous words: "You haue talked, and written inough,
you haue indifferently well solicited hir, whych is throughly
resolued in former minde, to keepe hir honor in that worthy
reputation of degree, wherein she maynetayneth the same amongs
the best. I haue hitherto suffered you to abuse my patience,
and haue shewed that familiarity which they deserue not that go
about leudly to assayle the chastity of those Women that
patiently gieue them eare, for the opinion they haue conceiued
of the shadowing vertues of like foolishe Suters. I now doe see
that all your woordes doe tend to beguile mee, and to depriue
mee of that you cannot giue mee: Which shall bee a warning for
me henceforth, more wisely to looke about my businesse, and more
warely to shunne the Charmes of sutch as you bee, to the ende
that I by bending mine open eares, be not surprised, and
ouercome wyth your enchaunted Speaches. I pray you then for
conclusion, that I heare no more hereof, neyther from you, nor
yet from the Ambassadour that commeth from you. For I neyther
will, ne yet pretend to depart to you any other fauour than that
which I haue enlarged for your comfort: but rather doe protest,
that so longe as you abide in this Countrey, I will neyther goe
forth in streate, nor suffer any Gentleman to haue accesse into
this place except he be my neare Kinsman. Thus for your
importunat sute, I will chastise my light consent, for
harkeninge vnto you in those requests, which duty and Womanhoode
ought not to suffre. And if you do proceede in these your
follies, I will seeke redresse according to your desert, which
till now I haue deferred, thinking that time would haue put out
the ardent heate of your rash, and wanton youth." The
infortunate Lord of Virle, hearing this sharpe sentence,
remayned long time without speach, so astonned as if he had bene
falne from the Clouds. In the ende for al his despayre he
replyed to Zilia with Countenaunce indifferent merry: "Sith it
is so madame, that you take from mee all hope to be your
perpetuall Seruaunt, and that without other comfort or
contentation I must nedes depart your presence, neuer
(perchaunce) hereafter to speake vnto you againe, be not yet so
squeimish of your beauty, and so cruell towards your languishing
louer, as to deny him a kisse for pledge of his last farewell.
I demaund nothing here in secret, but that honestly you may
openly performe. It is al that I doe craue at your handes in
recompence of the trauayles, paynes, and afflictions suffred for
your sake." The malitious dame full of rancor, and spitefull
rage sayd vnto him: "I shall see by and by sir, if the loue
which you vaunt to beare mee, be so vehement as you seeme to
make it." "Ah Madame" (sayd the vnaduised Louer) "commaunde
only, and you shal see with what deuotion I will performe your
will, were it that it should cost me the price of my proper
life." "You shall haue" (quod she) "the kisse which you require
of me if you will make promise, and sweare by the fayth of a
Gentleman, to do the thinge that I shall commaund, without
fraude, couin or other delay." "Madame" (sayd the ouer wilful
louer) "I take God to witnesse that of the thing which you shall
commaunde I will not leaue one iote vndone, but it shall bee
executed to the vttermost of your request and will." She hearing
him sweare with so good affection, sayd vnto him smiling: "Now
then vpon your oth which I beleue, and being assured of your
Vertue and Noble nature, I will also performe and keepe my
promise." And saying so, shee Embraced and kissed him very
louingly. The poore Gentleman not knowing how dearely hee had
bought that disfauorable curtesie, and bitter sweetenesse, helde
hir a while betwene his armes, doubling kisse vppon kisse, with
sutch Pleasure, as his soule thought to fly vp to the heauens
being inspired with that impoysoned Baulme which hee sucked in
the sweete and sugred breath of his cruel mistresse: who vndoing
hir selfe out of his armes, sayde vnto him: "Sith that I haue
made the first disclosure both of the promise and of the effect,
it behooueth that you performe the rest, for the full
accomplyshment of the same." "Come on hardily" (sayeth hee) "and
God knoweth how spedily you shal be obeyed." "I wil then" (quod
shee) "and commaund you vpon your promysed faith that from this
present time, vntyl the space of three yeres be expyred, you
speake to no lyuing person for any thing that shall happen vnto
you, nor yet expresse by tonge, by sound of word or speache what
thing you wante or els desyre, whych requeste if you do breake,
I will neuer truste liuing man for youre sake, but wil publyshe
your fame to bee villanous, and your person periured, and a
promyse breaker." I leaue for you to think whether this vnhappy
louer were amazed or not, to heare a Commaundment so vniust, and
therewithall the difficulty for the performance. Notwithstanding
he was so stoute of hearte, and so religious an obseruer of his
Othe as euen at that very instant he began to do the part which
she had commaunded, playing at Mumchaunce, and vsing other
signes, for doing of his duetye, accordynge to hir demaund. Thus
after his ryghte humble reuerence made vnto hir, he went home,
where faining that hee had lost his speach by meanes of a
Catarre or reume which distilled from his brayne, he determined
to forsake his Countrey vntill his tyme of penance was rune out.
Wherfore setting staye in hys affayres, and prouydyng for his
trayne, he made him ready to depart. Notwithstanding, he wrot a
Letter vnto Zilia, before he toke hys iovrney into Fraunce, that
in olde tyme hadde ben the Solace and refuge of the miserable,
as wel for the pleasantnes and temperature of the ayre, the
great wealth and the aboundance of al thynges, as for the
curtesye, gentlenes and familyarity of the people: wherein that
region may compare with any other nation vpon the earth. Now the
Letter of Philiberto, fell into the hands of lady Zilia, by
meanes of hys Page instructed for that purpose: who aduertised
hir of the departure of his mayster, and of the despaire wherein
hee was. Whereof shee was somewhat sory, and offended: But yet
puttinge on hir Aunciente seuerytye, tooke the Letters, and
breakinge the Seale, found that which followeth.
The very euill that causeth mine anoy
The matter is that breedes to me my ioy,
Which doth my wofull heart full sore displease,
And yet my hap and hard yll lucke doth ease.
I hope one day when I am franke and free,
To make thee do the thing that pleaseth mee,
Whereby gayne I shall, some pleasaunt gladnesse,
To supply mine vndeserued sadnesse,
The like whereof no mortall Dame can giue
To louing man that heere on earth doth lyue.
This great good turne which I on thee pretende,
Of my Conceites the full desired ende,
Proceedes from thee (O cruell mystresse myne)
Whose froward heart hath made mee to resigne
The full effect of all my liberty,
(To please and ease thy fonde fickle fansy)
My vse of speache in silence to remayne:
To euery wight a double hellishe payne.
Whose fayth hadst thou not wickedly abusde
No stresse of payne for thee had bene refusde,
Who was to thee a trusty seruaunt sure,
And for thy sake all daungers would endure.
For which thou hast defaced thy good name,
And thereunto procurde eternall shame.
¶ That roaring tempest huge which thou hast made me felt,
The raging stormes whereof, well neere my heart hath swelt
By paineful pangs: whose waltering waues by troubled Skies,
And thousand blasts of winde that in those Seas do ryse
Do promise shipwracke sure of that thy sayling Barke,
When after weather cleare doth rise some Tempest darke.
For eyther I or thou which art of Tyger's kinde,
In that great raging gulfe some daunger sure shalt finde,
Of that thy nature rude the dest'nies en'mies bee,
And thy great ouerthrow full well they do foresee.
The heauens vnto my estate no doubt great friendship shoe,
And do seeke wayes to ende, and finish all my woe.
This penaunce which I beare by yelding to thy hest
Great store of ioyes shall heape, and bring my mynde to rest.
And when I am at ease amids my pleasaunt happes,
Then shall I see thee fall, and snarld in Fortune's trappes.
Then shall I see thee ban and cursse the wicked time,
Wherin thou madest me gulp such draught of poysoned wine.
Of which thy mortall cup, I am the offerd wight,
A vowed sacrifice to that thy cruell spight.
Wherefore my hoping heart doth hope to see the day,
That thou for silence now to me shalt be the pray.
¶ O Blessed God most iust, whose worthy laude and prayse
With vttered speach in Skies a loft I dare not once to rayse,
And may not well pronounce and speak what suffrance I sustain,
Ne yet what death I do indure, whiles I in lyfe remayne,
Take vengeance on that traytresse rude, afflict hir corps with woe
Thy holy arme redresse hir fault, that she no more do soe:
My reason hath not so farre strayed but I may hope and trust
To see hir for hir wickednes, be whipt with plague most iust.
In the meane while great heauines my sence and soule doth bite,
And shaking feuer vex my corps for griefe of hir despite.
My mynde now set at liberty from thee (O cruell Dame)
Doth giue defiaunce to thy wrath, and to thy cursed name,
Proclayming mortal warre on thee vntill my tongue vntide,
Shall ioy to speak to Zilia fast weping by my side.
The heauens forbid that causlesse wrong abroad shold make his vaunt,
Or that an vndeserued death forgetfull tombe should haunt:
But that in written booke and verse their names shold euer liue
And eke their wicked deedes shold dy, and vertues stil reuiue.
So shall the pride and glory both, of hir be punisht right,
By length of yeares, and tract of time. And I by vertues might,
Full recompence thereby shal haue and stand still in good Fame,
And she like caitif wretch shall liue, to hir long lasting shame.
Whose fond regard of beautie's grace, contemned hath the force
Of my true loue full fixt in hir: hir heart voide of remorse,
Esteemed it selfe right foolishly and me abused still,
Vsurping my good honest fayth and credite at hir will.
Whose loyall faith doth rest in soule, and therein stil shal bide,
Vntill in filthy stincking graue the earth my corps shall hide.
Then shal that soule fraught with that faith, to heuens make
his repaire
And rest among the heuenly rout, bedect with sacred aire.
And thou for thy great cruelty, as God aboue doth know,
With ruful voice shalt wepe and wayle for thy gret ouerthrow,
And when thou woldst fayn purge thy self for that thy wretched dede
No kindnes shal to the be done, extreme shal be thy mede:
And where my tongue doth want his wil, thy mischiefe to display,
My hand and penne supplies the place, and shall do so alway.
For so thou hast constraynd the same by force of thy behest:
In silence still my tongue to keepe, t'accomplishe thy request.
Adieu, farewell my tormenter, thy frend that is full mute,
Doth bid thee farewell once agayne, and so hee ends his sute.
He that liueth only to be reuenged of thy cruelty,