THE THIRTY-FIRST NOUELL.

_A Wydow called Mistresse Helena, wyth whom a Scholler was in

loue, (shee louing an other) made the same Scholler to stande

a whole Wynter's night in the Snow to wayte for hir, who

afterwardes by a sleyght and pollicie, caused hir in Iuly, to

stand vppon a Tower starke naked amongs Flies and Gnats, and

in the Sunne._

Diuert we now a little from these sundry haps, to solace our

selues wyth a merry deuice, and pleasaunt circumstaunce of a

Scholler's loue, and of the wily guily Subtilties of an amorous

Wydow of Florence. A Scholler returned from Paris to practise

hys knowledge at home in his owne Countrey, learneth a more

cunning Lecture of Mistresse Helena, than he did of the

subtillest Sorbone Doctor, or other Mathematicall from whence he

came. The Scholler as playnely hee had applied his booke, and

earnestly harkned his readings, so he simply meant to be a

faythfull Louer and deuout requirant to this Iolly dame, that

had vowed his Deuotion and promised Pilgrimage to an other

Saynct. The Scholler vpon the first view of the Wydowe's

wandring Lookes, forgetting Ouide's Lessons of Loue's guiles,

pursued his conceipt to the vttermost. The Scholler neuer

remembred how many valiaunt, wise and learned men, wanton Women

had seduced and deceyued. Hee had forgot how Catullus was

beguiled by Lesbia, Tibullus by Delia, Propertius by Cynthia,

Naso by Corinna, Demetrius by Lamia, Timotheus by Phryne, Philip

by a Greeke mayden, Alexander by Thays, Hanniball by Campania,

Cæsar by Cleopatra, Pompeius by Flora, Pericles by Aspaga,

Psammiticus the king of Ægypt by Rhodope, and diuers other very

famous by Women of that stampe. Hee had not ben wel trayned in

holy writ, or heard of Samson's Dalida, or of Salomon's

Concubins, but like a playne dealinge man, beleued what she

promised, followed what she bad him, waited whiles she mocked

him, attended till shee laughed him to scorne. And yet for all

these Iolly pastimes inuented by this Widdow, to deceyue the

poore Scholler, she scaped not free from his Logike rules,

not saife from his Philosophy. He was forced to turne ouer

Aristotle, to reuolue his Porphyrie, and to gather his Wits

about hym to requite this louing Peate, that had so charitably

delt with him. He willingly serched ouer Ptolome, perused

Albumazar, made haste to Haly, yea and for a shift besturred him

in Erra Pater, for matching two contrary Elements. For colde in

Christmasse holy dayes, and Frost at Twelftide, shewed no more

force on this poore learned Scholler, than the Sunne's heate in

the Feries of Iuly, Gnats, Flyes, and Waspes, at Noone dayes in

Sommer vpon the naked tender Corpse of this fayre Wyddow. The

Scholler stoode belowe in a Court, benoommed for colde, the

Wyddowe preached a lofte in the top of a Tower, and fayne would

haue had water to coole hir extreme heate. The Scholler in his

Shyrt bedecked wyth his demissaries. The Wyddow so Naked as hir

Graundmother Eue, wythout vesture to shroud hir. The Wyddow by

magike arte what so euer it cost, would fayne haue recouered hir

lost Louer. The Scholler well espying his aduantage when hee was

asked councell, so Incharmed hir with his Sillogismes, as he

made hir to mount a Tower, to cursse the time that euer she knew

him or hir Louer. So the Wydow not well beaten in causes of

Schoole, was whipt with the Rod, wherewith shee scourged other.

Alas good Woman, had she known that olde malice had not bene

forgotten, she woulde not haue trusted, and lesse committed hir

selfe to the Circle of his Enchauntments. If women wist what

dealings are wyth men of great reading, they would amongs one

hundred other, not deale wyth one of thee meanest of those that

be Bookish. One Girolamo Ruscelli, a learned Italyan making

prety notes for the better elucidation of the Italyan Decamerone

of Boccaccio, iudgeth Boccaccio himselfe to be this scholler,

whom by an other name he termeth to be Rinieri. But whatsoeuer

that Scholler was, he was truely to extreme in reueng, and

therein could vse no meane. For hee neuer left the poore feeble

soule, for all hir curteous Words and gentle Supplication,

vntill the Skin of hir flesh was Parched with the scalding Sunne

beames. And not contented with that, delt his Almose also to hir

Mayde, by sending hir to help hir Mistresse, where also she

brake hir Legge. Yet Phileno was more pityfull ouer the 3

nymphes and fayre Goddesses of Bologna, whose Hystory you may

reade in the 49 Nouell of my former Tome. He fared not so

roughly with those, as Rinieri did with thys, that sought but to

gayne what she had lost. Well, how so euer it was, and what

differency betweene eyther of theym, this Hystory ensuinge, more

aptly shall gieue to vnderstande. Not long sithens, there was in

Florence, a young Gentlewoman of worshipfull parentage, fayre

and comely of personage, of courage stout, and abounding in

goods of Fortune (called Helena,) who being a widow, determined

not to mary agayne, bicause she was in loue with a yong man that

was not voyde of Nature's good gifts, whom for hir owne Tooth,

aboue other shee had specially chosen. In whom (setting aside

all other care) many tymes (by meanes of one of hir maydes which

she trusted best) she had great pleasure and delight. It

chaunced about the same time that a yong Gentleman of that Citty

called Rinieri, hauinge a great time studied at Paris, returned

to Florence, not to sell his Science by retayle, as many doe,

but to knowe the reasons of things, and the causes thereof,

which is a speciall good exercise for a Gentleman. And being

there honoured and greatly esteemed of all men, aswell for his

curteous behauiour, as also for his knowledge, he liued like a

good Cittizen. But it is commonly seene, they which haue best

vnderstandinge and knowledge, are soonest tangled in Loue: euen

so it hapned with this Rinieri, who repayringe one day for his

passetime to a Feaste, this Madame Helena clothed al in blacke,

(after the manner of Widowes) was there also, and seemed in his

eyes so beautifull and well fauored, as any woman euer he saw,

and thought that hee might bee accoumpted happy, to whom God did

shewe so mutch fauoure, as to suffer him to be cleped betweene

hir Armes: and beholdinge her diuers tymes and knowing that the

greatest and dearest things cannot be gotten with out labour, he

determined to use all his endeuour and care in pleasing of hir,

that thereby he might obtayne hir loue, and so enioy hir. The

yong Gentlewoman not very bashfull, conceyuing greater opinion

of hir selfe, than was needefull, not castinge hir Eyes towards

the Ground, but rolling them artificially on euery side, and by

and by perceyuing mutch gazing to be vpon hir, espied Rinieri

earnestly beholding hir, and sayd, smiling to hir selfe:

"I thinke that I haue not this day lost my time in comming

hither, for if I bee not deceyued, I shall catch a Pigeon by the

Nose." And beginning certayne times stedfastly to looke vpon

him, she forced hir selfe so mutch as she could, to seeme very

ernestly to beholde him. And on the other part thinking, that

the more pleasaunt and amorous she shewed hirselfe to be,

the more hir beauty should be esteemed, chiefly of him whom

specially shee was disposed to loue. The wise Scholler giuing

ouer his Philosophy, bent all his endeuour here vnto, and

thinking to be hir seruaunt, learned where she dwelt, and began

to passe before hir house under pretence of some other occasion:

whereat the Gentlewoman reioysed for the causes beforesayde,

fayning an earnest desire to looke vpon him. Wherefore the

Scholler hauing found a certayne meane to be acquaynted wyth hir

Mayde discouered his loue: Praying her to deale so with hir

mistresse, as he might haue hir fauor. The maide promised him

very louingly incontinently reporting the same to hir mistresse,

who with the greatest Scoffes in the Worlde, gaue ear thereunto

and sayd: "Seest thou not from whence this Goodfellowe is come

to lose al his knowledge and doctrine that he hath brought vs

from Paris. Now let vs deuise therefore how he may bee handled

for going about to seeke that, which he is not like to obtaine.

Thou shalt say vnto him, when he speaketh to thee agayne, that I

loue him better than he loueth me, but it behooueth me to saue

mine honoure, and to keepe my good name and estimation amongs

other Women." Whych thinge, if he be so wise (as hee seemeth)

hee ought to Esteeme and Regarde. "Ah, poore Wench, she knoweth

not wel, what it is to mingle Huswiuery with learning, or to

intermeddle distaues with bookes.{"} Now the mayde when she had

founde the Scholler, tolde him as hir mistresse had commaunded:

whereof the Scholler was so glad, as he with greater endeuor

proceded in his enterprise, and began to write Letters to the

Gentlewoman, which were not refused, although he could receyue

no aunsweres that pleased him, but sutch as were done openly.

And in this sorte the Gentlewoman long time fed him with

delayes. In the ende she discouered all this new loue vnto hir

frend, who was attached with sutch an Aking Disease in his

heade, as the same was Fraught with the Reume of Iealousie:

wherefore she to shewe hir selfe to be suspected without cause

(very carefull for the Scholler) sent hir mayde to tell him,

that she had no conuenient time to doe the thinge that should

please him, sithens he was first assured of hir loue, but hoped

the next Christmasse holly dayes to be at his commaundement:

wherefore if he would vouchsafe to come the night following the

first holly day, into the Court of hir house, she would wayte

there for his comminge. The Scholler the best contented man in

the Worlde fayled not at the time appoyncted, to go to the

Gentlewoman's house: where being placed by the Mayde in a base

Court, and shut fast within the same, he attended for hir, who

Suppinge with hir friende that night, very pleasauntly recited

vnto him all that she had determined then to doe, saying: "Thou

mayst see now what loue I do beare vnto him, of whom thou hast

foolishly conceyued thys Iealousie. To which woordes hir Freende

gaue eare with great delectation, desiringe to see the effect of

that, whereof she gaue him to vnderstand by wordes." Now as it

chaunced the day before the Snowe fell downe so thicke from

aboue, as it couered the Earth, by which meanes the Scholler

within a very little space after his arriuall, began to be very

colde: howbeit hopinge to receyue recompence, he suffred it

paciently. The Gentlewoman a little whyle after, sayd vnto hir

Freende: "I pray thee let vs goe into my chuamber, where at a

little Window we may looke out, and see what he doth that maketh

thee so Iealous, and herken what aunswere he will make to my

Mayde, whom of purpose I wyll send forth to speake vnto him."

When she had so sayde, they went to the Window, where they

seeing the Scholler (they not seene of hym,) heard the Mayde

speake these wordes: "Rinieri, my Mystresse is the angriest

Woman in the World, for that as yet she cannot come vnto thee.

But the cause is, that one of hir Brethren is come to visite hir

this Euening, and hath made a long discourse of talke vnto hir,

and afterwardes bad himselfe to Supper, and as yet is not

departed, but I thinke hee will not tary longe, and then

immediately she will come. In the meane tyme she prayeth thee to

take a little payne." The Scholler beleeuing this to be true,

sayde vnto hir: "Require your Mistresse to take no care for mee

till hir leasure may serue: But yet entreat hir to make so mutch

hast as she can." The Mayde returned and went to Bed, and the

Dame of the house sayd then vnto hir frend: "Now sir, what say

you to this? Doe you thincke that if I loued him, as you

mystrust, that I would suffer him to tarry beneath in this

greate colde to coole himselfe?" And hauing sayd so, she went to

Bed with hir frende, who then was partly satisfied, and all the

night they continued in greate pleasure and solace, laughing,

and mocking the miserable Scholler that walked vp and downe the

Court to chafe himselfe, not knowing where to sit, or which way

to auoyde the colde, and curssed the long taryinge, of his

mistresse Brother, hoping at euery noyse he heard, that she had

come to open the dore to let him in, but his hope was in vayne.

Now she hauinge sported hir selfe almost till midnight, sayd

vnto hir frend: "How think you (sir) by our Scholler, whether

iudge you is greater, his Wysedome, or the loue that I beare

vnto him? The colde that I make him to suffer, will extinguish

the heate of suspition whych yee conceyued of my wordes the

other day." "Yee say true," (sayd hir frend,) "and I do assure

you, that like as you are my delight, my rest, my comfort, and

all my hope, euen so I am yours, and shalbe during life." For

the confirmation of which renewed amity, they spared no delights

which the louing Goddesse doeth vse to serue and imploy vpon her

seruaunts and suters. And after they had talked a certayne time,

she sayd vnto him: "For God's sake (sir) let vs rise a little,

to see if the glowing fire which this my new louer hath dayly

written vnto me, to burn in him, bee quenched or not." And

rysing out of their Beds, they went to a little Window and

looking downe into the Courte, they saw the Scholler dauncing

vpon the Snow, whereunto his shiuering teeth were so good

Instruments, as he seemed the trimmest Dauncer that euer trode a

Cinquepace after sutch Musicke, being forced thereunto through

the great colde which he suffered. And then she sayde vnto him:

"What say you to this my frende, do you not see how cunninge I

am to make men daunce without Taber, or Pipe?" "Yes in deede,"

(sayd hir Louer) "yee be an excellent Musitian." "Then" (quod

shee) "let vs go downe to the dore, and I will speake vnto him,

but in any Wise say you nothing, and we shal heare what reasons

and arguments he will frame to mooue me to compassion, and

perchaunce shall haue no little pastime to behold him."

Whereupon they went downe softly to the dore, and there without

opening the same, shee with a softe voyce out at a little whole,

called the Scholler vnto hir. Which hee hearinge, began to

prayse God and thancke hym a thousande times, beleeuing veryly

that he should then be let in, and approching the dore, said:

"I am heere mine (owne sweete heart) open the dore for God's

sake, for I am like to die for Cold." Whom in mocking wise she

answered: "Can you make me beleue (M. Scholler) that you are so

tender, or that the colde is so great as you affirme, for a

little Snow newly falne downe? There be at Paris farre greater

Snowes than these be, but to tell you the troth, you cannot come

in yet, for my Brother (the deuell take him) came yesternight to

supper, and is not yet departed, but by and by hee wyll be gon,

and then you shall obtayne the effect of your desire, assuring

you, that with mutch a doe I haue stolne away from hym, to come

hither for your comfort, praying you not to thincke it longe."

"Madame" sayd the Scholler, "I beseech you for God's sake to

open the dore, that I may stand in couert from the Snow, which

within this houre hath fallen in great aboundaunce, and doth yet

continue: and there I will attend your pleasure." "Alas sweet

Friend" (sayd she) "the dore maketh sutch a noyse when it is

opened, that it will easily be heard of my brother, but I will

pray him to depart, that I may quickely returne agayne to open

the same." "Goe your way then" (sayd the Scholler) "and I pray

you cause a great fire to be made, that I may warme mee when I

come in, for I can scarce feele my selfe for colde." "Why, it is

not possible" (quod the Woman) "if it be true that you wholly

burne in loue for me, as by your sundry Letters written, it

appeareth, but now I perceyue that you mocke me, and therefore

tary there still on God's name." Hir frende which heard all

this, and tooke pleasure in those wordes, went agayne to Bed

with hir, into whose eyes no slepe that night coulde enter for

the pleasure and sport they had with the poore Scholler. The

vnhappy wretched Scholler whose teeth chattered for colde,

faring like a Storke in colde nights, perceyuing himselfe to be

mocked, assayed to open the dore, or if he might goe out by some

other way: and seeing it impossible, stalking vp and downe like

a Lyon, curssed the nature of the time, the wickednesse of the

woman, the length of the Night, and the Folly and simplicity of

himselfe: and conceyuing great rage, and despight agaynst hir,

turned sodaynely the long and feruent loue that he bare hir,

into despight and cruell hatred, deuising many and diuers meanes

to bee reuenged, whych he then farre more desired, than hee did

in the beginninge to lye with his Widow. After that longe and

tedious night, day approched, and the dawning thereof began to

appeare: wherefore the mayde instructed by hir mistresse, went

downe into the court, and seemyng to haue pity uppon the

Scholler, sayd vnto hym: "The Diuell take hym that euer he came

hyther this nyghte, for hee hath bothe let vs of sleepe, and

hath made you to be frozen for colde, but take it paciently for

this tyme, some other Nyght must be appointed. For I know well

that neuer thyng coulde chaunce more displeasantly to my

Mistresse than this." But the Scholler full of dysdayne, lyke a

wyse man which knew well that threats and menacyng words, were

weapons without hands to the threatned, retayned in hys Stomacke

that whych intemporate wyll would haue broken forth, and wyth so

quiet Woordes as hee coulde, not shewynge hymselfe to bee angry,

sayd: "In deede I haue suffred the worste Nyghte that euer I

dyd, but I knowe the same was not throughe your mistresse fault,

bicause shee hauing pitye vppon me, and as you say, that which

cannot be to Night, may be done another time, commend me then

vnto hir, and farewell." And thus the poore Scholler stiffe for

colde, so well as hee coulde, retourned home to his house, where

for the extremitye of the tyme and lacke of sleepe beyng almost

deade, he threwe hymselfe vppon his bed, and when he awaked,

his Armes and Legges had no feeling. Wherefore he sent for

Physitions and tolde them of the colde he had taken, who

incontinently prouided for his health: and yet for al their best

and spedy remedies, they could scarce recouer his Iointes and

Sinewes, wherein they did what they could: and had it not bene

that he was yong, and the Sommer approching, it had ben to mutch

for him to haue endured. But after he was come to Healthe, and

grewe to be lusty, secrete Malyce still resting in his breaste,

hee thought vpon reuenge. And it chaunced in a lytle tyme after,

that Fortune prepared a new accident to the scholer to satisfy

his desire, bycause the young man which was beloued of the

Gentlewoman, not caring any longer for hir, fel in loue with an

other, and gaue ouer the solace and pleasure he was wont to doe

to mistresse Helena, for which despite she consumed herself in

wepings and lamentations. But hir maid hauing pity vpon hir

mistresse sorrowes, knowing no meanes to remoue the melancoly

which she conceiued for the losse of hir friend, and seing the

scholler daily passe by accordinge to his common Custome,

conceiued a foolishe beliefe that hir mistresse friend might be

brought to loue hir agayne, and wholly recouered, by some charme

or other sleight of Necromancy, to bee wrought and brought to

passe by the Scholler. Which deuise she tolde vnto hir

mistresse, and she vndiscretely (and without due consideration

that if the scholler had any knowledge in that science, he would

helpe himselfe) gaue credite to the words of hir mayde, and by

and by sayd vnto hir, that shee was able to bring it to passe,

if he would take it in hande, and therewithall promised

assuredly, that for recompense he should vse hir at his

pleasure. The mayde diligently tolde the Scholler hereof,

who very ioyfull for those newes, sayd vnto himselfe: "O God,

praysed be thy name, for now the time is come, that by thy helpe

I shall requite the iniuries done vnto me by this wicked Woman,

and be recompensed of the great loue that I bare vnto hir:" And

aunswered the mayd: "Go tell thy mistresse that for this matter

she neede to take no care, for if hir frend were in India, I can

presently force him to come hither, and aske hir forgiuenesse of

the fault he hath committed agaynst hir. And the maner, and way

how to vse hir selfe in this behalfe, I will gieue hir to

vnderstand when it shal please hir to appoinct me: and fayle not

to tell hir what I say, comforting hir in my behalfe." The mayde

caried the aunswere, and it was concluded, that they should

talke more hereof at the Church of S. Lucie, whither being come,

and reasoning together alone, not remembring that she had

brought the Scholler almost to the poynct of death, she reueyled

vnto him all the whole matter, and the thing which he desired,

praying him instantly to helpe hir, to whome the scholler sayd:

"True it is lady, that amongs other things which I learned at

Paris, the arte of Necromancie, (whereof I haue very great

skill,) is one: But bycause it is mutch displeasaunt to God,

I haue made an othe neuer to vse it, eyther for my selfe, or for

any other: howbeit the loue which I beare you, is of sutch

force, as I cannot deny you any request, yea and if I should be

damned amongs all the deuils in hell, I am ready to performe

your pleasure. But I tell you before, that it is a harder matter

to be done, than paraduenture you belieue, and specially where a

Woman shall prouoke a Man to loue, or a Man the Woman, bycause

it can not be done by the propre Person, whome it doth touche,

and therefore it is meete, whatsoeuer is done, in any wyse not

to be affrayde, for that the coniuration must bee made in the

Nyght, and in a solytarie place wythout Companye: which thing I

know not how you shal bee disposed to doe." To whom the Woman

more amorous than wise, aunswered: "Loue prycketh mee in sutch

wise, as there is nothyng but I dare attempt, to haue him

againe, that causelesse hath forsaken me. But tel me I beseech

you wherein it behoueth that I be so bold and hardy." The

Scholer (subtil inough) said: "I muste of necessity make an

image of brasse, in the name of him that you desire to haue,

which being sent vnto you you must, when the Mone is at hir ful,

bath your self stark naked in a running riuer at the first houre

of sleepe VII. times with the same image: and afterwards beyng

stil naked, you must go vp into some tree or house vnhabited,

and turning your selfe towardes the North side thereof wyth the

image in your hand you shal say VII. times certain words, that I

wil giue you in writing, which when you haue done, two damsels

shal come vnto you, the fairest that euer you saw, and they

shall salute you, humbly demaundyng what your pleasure is to

commaund them: to whome you shal willingly declare in good order

what you desire: and take hede aboue al things, that you name

not one for an other: and when they begonne, you may descend

downe to the place where you left your Apparel, and array your

selfe agayne, and afterwardes retourne home vnto your house, and

assure your self, that before the mid of the nexte Nyghte

folowing, your Fryend shall come vnto you weepyng, and crying

Mercye and forgyuenesse at youre Handes. And know yee, that from

that tyme forth, he wil neuer forsake you for any other." The

gentlewoman hearing those words, gaue great credyte thervnto:

and thought that already she helde hir fryend betweene hir

Armes, and very ioyfull sayd: "Doubt not sir, but I wyll

accomplysh al that you haue inioyned me: and I haue the meetest

place in the World to doe it: for vppon the valley of Arno, very

neare the Ryuer syde I haue a Manor house, secretly to woorke

any attempt that I list: and now it is the moneth of Iuly, in

which tyme bathing is most pleasaunt. And also I remembre that

not far from the Ryuer, there is a lyttle Toure vnhabited, into

which one can scarce get vp, but by a certain Ladder made of

chesnut tree, which is already there, whereuppon the shephierds

do sometime ascende to the turrasse of the same Toure, to looke

for their cattell when they be gone astray: and the place is

very solitarie out of the way. Into that Toure wyll I goe vp,

and trust to execute what you haue requyred me." The Scholler

which knew very well both the village whereof she spake, and

also the Toure, right glad for that he was assured of his

purpose, sayde: "Madame, I was neuer there, ne yet do knowe the

village, nor the Toure, but if it bee as you saye, it is not

possible to finde anye better place in the Worlde: wherefore

when the tyme is come, I wyll send you the Image, and the

prayer. But I heartily beseech you, when you haue obtained your

desire, and do perceyue that I haue well serued your turne, to

haue me in remembraunce, and to keepe your promyse." Which the

Gentlewoman assured hym to doe withoute fayle, and taking hir

leaue of him, she retired home to hir house. The Scholer ioyfull

for that his deuise should in deede come to passe, caused an

image to be made with certaine Characters, and wrote a tale of a

Tubbe in stede of the prayer. And when hee sawe tyme he sent

them to the Gentlewoman, aduertising hir that the Nyght

folowyng, she must doe the thing he had appoynted hir. Then to

procede in his enterprise, he and his man went secretly to one

of his fryends houses that dwelte harde by the towne. The Woman

on the other side, and hir Mayde repaired to hir place: where

when it was nyght, makyng as though she would go slepe, she sent

hir Mayde to Bed: afterwards about ten of the Clocke she

conueyed hirself very softly out of hir lodgyng, and repayred

neare to the Towne vpon the riuer of Arno, and lookyng aboute

hir, not seeing or perceiuing any man, she vnclothed hir selfe,

and hidde hir apparell vnder a bush of Thornes, and then bathed

hir selfe VII. tymes with the Image, and afterwardes starke

naked, holding the same in her hand, she went towardes the

Toure. The Scholler at the beginning of the Nyghte beying hydden

wyth hys seruaunt amongs the willowes and other trees neere the

Toure, saw all the aforesayde thinges, and hir also passing

naked by him, (the whitenesse of whose body surpassed as he

thought, the darknesse of the night, so farre as blacke

exceedeth white) who afterwardes behelde hir Stomack, and the

other partes of hir body, which seemed unto him to be very

delectable. And remembringe what would shortly come to passe, he

had some pitty vppon hir, on the other side, the temptation of

the Flesh sodaynely assayled hym, prouoking him to issue forth

of the secret corner, to Surprise hir, and to take his pleasure

vpon hir. But calling to hys rememberaunce what shee was, and

what great wrong hee had sustayned, his mallice began to kindle

agayne, and did remoue his pitty, and lust, continuing still

stedfast in his determination, suffring her to passe hir Iorney.

The Wydow being vppon the Toure, and turning hir face towards

the North, began to say the wordes which the Scholler had giuen

hir. Within a while after the Scholler entred in very softly,

and tooke away the ladder whereupon she got vp, and stoode still

to heare what she did say and doe. Who hauing VII. times recited

hir prayer, attended the comming of the two damsels: for whom

she wayted so long in vayne, and therewithall began to be

extreemely colde, and perceyued the dawning of the day appeare.

Wherefore taking great displeasure that it came not to passe as

the Scholler had tolde hir, she spake theese wordes to hir

selfe: "I doubt mutch least this Scholler will rewarde mee with

sutch another night, as wherein once I made him to wayte: but if

he haue done it for that respect, he is not well reuenged, for

the nights now want the third part of the length of those, then,

besides the colde that he indured, which was of greater

extremity." And that the day might not discouer hir, she woulde

haue gone downe from the Toure, but she found the Ladder to be

taken away. Then as thou the Worlde had molten vnder hir Feete,

hir heart began to fayle, and Fayntinge, fell downe vppon the

tarrasse of the toure, and when hir force reuiued agayne, she

began pitifully to weepe and complayne. And knowing well that

the Scholler had done that deede for reuenge, she grew to be

angry wyth hir selfe, for that shee hadde Offended another, and

to mutch trusted hym whom she ought (by good reason) to haue

accoumpted hir enimy. And after she had remayned a great while

in this plight, then looking if there were any way for hir to

goe downe, and perceyuinge none, she renued hir weeping, whose

minde great care and sorrow did pierce saying thus to hir selfe:

"O vnhappy wretch, what will thy brethren say, thy Parents, thy

Neyghbors, and generally all they of Florence, when they shall

vnderstande that thou hast bene found heere naked? Thy honesty

which hitherto hath bene neuer stayned, shall now bee blotted

with the stayne of shame, yea, and if thou were able to finde

(for reamedy hereof) any matter of excuse (sutch as might be

founde) the wicked Scholler (who knoweth all thy doings) will

not suffer thee to ly: ah miserable wretch, that in one houre's

space, thou hast lost both thy freende and thyne honour. What

shall become of thee? Who is able to couer thy shame?" When she

had thus complayned hirselfe, hir sorrowe was not so great as

shee was like to cast hirselfe headlong downe from the Toure:

but the Sunne being already risen, she approched neare one of

the corners of the Walle, espying if she coulde see any Boy

keeping of cattell, that she might send him for hir Mayde. And

it chaunced that the Scholler which lay and slept in couert,

awaked, one espying the other, the Scholler saluted hir thus:

"Good morow, Lady, be the Damsels yet come?" The Woman seeing,

and hearing him, began agayne bitterly to weepe, and prayed him

to come vp to the Toure, that she might speake with him. The

Scholler was thereunto very agreable, and she lying on hir belly

vpon the terrasse of the Touer, discouering nothing but hir head

ouer the side of the same, sayd vnto him weeping: "Rinieri,

truly, if euer I caused thee to endure an ill Night, thou art

now well reuenged on me; for although it be the moneth of Iuly,

I thought (because I was naked) that I should haue frosen to

death this night for cold, besides my great, and continuall

Teares for the offence which I haue done thee, and of my Folly

for beleeuing thee, that maruell it is mine eyes do remayne

within my head: And therefore I pray thee, not for the loue of

me, whom thou oughtest not to loue, but for thine owne sake

which art a gentleman, that the shame and payne which I haue

sustayned, may satisfy the offence and wrong I haue committed

agaynst thee: and cause mine apparell I beseech thee to be

brought vnto me, that I may goe downe from hence, and doe not

robbe mee of that, which afterwardes thou art not able to

restore, which is, myne honor: for if I haue deceyued thee of

one night, I can at all times when it shall please thee, render

vnto thee for that one, many. Let it suffice thee then with

this, and like an honest man content thy selfe by being a little

reuenged on me, by making me to know now what it is to hurt

another. Do not, I pray thee, practise thy power against a

woman: for the Egle hath no fame for conquering of the Doue.

Then for the loue of God, and for thine honor sake, haue pitty

and remorse vpon me." The Scholler with a cruel heart remembring

the iniury that he hath receyued, and seeing hir so to weepe and

pray, conceyued at one instant both pleasure and griefe in his

minde: pleasure of the reuenge which he aboue all things

desired, and griefe mooued his manhoode to haue compassion vpon

the myserable woman. Notwithstanding, pitty not able to ouercome

the fury of his reuenge, he aunswered: "Mistresse Helena, if my

praiers (which in dede I could not moysten with teares, ne yet

sweeten them with sugred woordes, as you doe yours nowe) might

haue obtained that night wherein I thought I should haue died

for colde in the Court full of snowe, to haue bene conueyed by

you into some couert place, an easie matter it had beene for mee

at this instant to heare your suite. But if now more than in

times past your honor do waxe warme, and that it greeueth you to

stand starke naked, make your prayers to him, betweene whose

Armes you ware not offended to be naked that night, wherein you

hearde me trot vp and downe your Courte, my Teeth chattering for

cold and marching vpon the Snow: And at his handes seeke

releefe, and pray him to bring your Clothes, and fetch a Ladder

that you may come downe: Force your selfe to set your honor's

care on him for whom both then, and now besides many other

times, you haue not feared to put the same in perill, Why doe

you not cal for him to come and help you? And to whom doth your

help better appertayne than vnto him? You are his owne, and what

things will he not prouyde in this distresse of yours? Or else

what person will hee seeke to succour, if not to helpe and

succour you? Call him (O foolish woman) and proue if the loue

which thou bearest him, and thy wit together with his, be able

to deliuer thee from my Folly, where (when both you were

togethers) you tooke your Pleasure. And now thou haste

Experience wheather my Folly or the Loue which thou diddest

beare vnto him, is greatest. And be not now so Lyberall, and

Curteous of that which I go not about to seeke: reserue thy good

Nights to thy beloued freende, if thou chaunce to escape from

hence aliue: for from my selfe I cleerely discharge you both.

And truly I haue had to mutch of one: and sufficient it is for

mee to bee mocked once. Moreouer by thy crafty talke vttered by

subtill speache, and by thyne vntimely prayse, thou thinkest to

force the getting of my good will, and thou callest me

Gentleman, valiaunt man, thinkinge thereby to withdrawe my

valyaunte minde from punishing of thy wretched body: but thy

flatteries shall not yet bleare mine vnderstanding eyes, as once

wyth thy vnfathyfull promises thou diddest beguile my

ouerweeninge wit. I now to well do know, and thereof thee well

assure, that all the time I was a Scholler in Paris, I neuer

learned so mutch as thou in one night diddest teach mee. But put

the Case that I were a valiaunt man, yet thou art none of them

vpon whom valiaunce ought to shewe his effects: and for the end

of sutch tormenting and passing cruell beasts, as thou art, only

death is fittest rewarde: for if a Woman made but halfe these

playnts, there is no man, but woulde asswage his reuenge. But

yet as I am no Eagle, and thou no Doue, but a most venomous

Serpent, I intend so well as I can to persecute thee mine

auncient enimy, wyth the greatest mallice I can deuise, which I

cannot so properly cal reuenge, as I may terme it Correction:

for that the reuenge of a matter ought to surmount the Offence,

and I will bestow no reuenge on thee: for if I were disposed to

apply my mynde therevnto, for respect of thy displeasure done to

me, thy Lyfe should not suffise, nor one hundred more like vnto

thine: which if I tooke away, I should but rid the Worlde of a

most vile, and wicked woman. And to say the truth, what other

art thou then a Deuill accept a little beauty in thy Face, which

within few yeares will vanishe and consume: for thou tookest no

care to kill, and destroy an honest man (as thou euen now

diddest terme me) whose Life, may in tyme to come bee more

profitable to the Worlde, than an hundred thousand sutch as

thyne, so long as the World indureth. I wil teach thee then by

the paine thou suffrest, what is it to mock sutch Men as bee of

skyll, and what maner of thyng it is to delude and Scorne poore

schollers, gyuing thee warning hereby, that thou never fall into

sutch folly, if thou escapest this. But if thou haue so great a

will to come downe as thou sayest thou hast, why doest thou not

throwe downe thy selfe headlonge, that by breaking of thy Necke

(if it please God) at one instante thou rid thy selfe of the

payne, wherein thou sayest thou art, and make mee the best

contented man of the Worlde. For this tyme I will say no more to

thee, but that I haue done inough to make thee clime so high.

Learne then now so wel how thou maist get down, as thou didst

know how to mock and deceyue me." While the Scholler had

preached vnto hir these words, the wretched woman wepte

continually, and the time stil did passe away, the Sunne

increasing more and more: but when the Scholler held his peace,

she replyed: "O cruell man, if that curssed nyght was grieuous

vnto thee, and my fault appeared great, cannot my youth and

Beauty, my Teares and humble Prayers bee able to mitigate thy

wrath and to moue thee to pitty: do at least that thou mayst be

moued and thy cruell minde appeased for that onely act, let me

once again be trusted of thee, and sith I haue manifested al my

desire, pardon me for this tyme, sith thou hast sufficiently

made me feele the penance of my sinne. For, if I had not reposed

my trust in thee, thou hadst not now reuenged thy self on me,

which with desire most spytefull thou doest full well declare.

Gyue ouer then thine anger, and pardon me henceforth: for I am

determined if thou wilt forgeue mee, and cause me to come downe

out of this place, to forsake for ever that vnfaithfull Louer,

and to receive thee for my only friend and Lord. Moreouer where

thou greatly blamest my beauty, esteeming it to be short, and of

smal accompt, sutch as it is, and the like of other women I

know, not be regarded for other cause but for pastime and

plesure of youthly Men, and therefore not to be contemned: and

thou thy self truly art not very old; and albeit that cruelly I

am intreated of thee, yet can I not beleue that thou wouldest

haue me so miserably to die, as to cast my selfe down headlong,

like one desperate, before thine eyes, whome (except thou were a

lier as thou seemest to be now) in time past I did wel please

and like. Haue pitye then upon me, for God's sake, for the Sunne

begins to grow exceding hot, and as the extreame and bitter cold

did hurt me the last Night euen so the heat beginneth to molest

me." Whereunto the Scholler which kept hir there for the nonce,

and for his pleasure, answered: "Mistresse you did not now

commit your faith to me for any loue you bare, but to get that

again which you had lost, wherfore that deserueth no good turne,

but greater pain: and fondlye thou thinkest this to be the onely

meanes, whereby I am able to take desired reuenge. For I haue a

thousand other wayes and a thousand Trappes haue I layed to

tangle thy feete, in makynge thee beleue that I dyd loue thee:

in sutch wyse as thou shouldest haue gone no where at any tyme,

is thys had not chanced but thou shouldest haue fallen into one

of them: and surely thou couldest haue falne into none of them,

but would haue bred thee more anoyaunce and shame than this

(which I chose not for thyne ease, but for my greater pleasure.)

And besides if all these meanes had fayled me, the pen should

not, wherewyth I would haue displayed thee in sutch Colours, as

when the simple brute thereof hadde come to thyne eares, thou

wouldest haue desired a thousand times a Day, that thou hadst

neuer bene born. For the forces of the pen be farre more

vehement, than they can esteeme that haue not proued them by

experience. I swear vnto thee by God, that I doe reioyse, and so

wil to the ende, for this reuenge I take of thee, and so haue I

done from the beginning: but if I had with pen painted thy

maners to the Worlde, thou shouldest not haue ben so mutch

ashamed of other, as of thy selfe, that rather than thou

wouldest haue loked mee in the Face agayne, thou wouldest haue

plucked thyne Eyes oute of thy head: and therefore reproue no

more the Sea, for beeing increased wyth a lyttle Brooke. For thy

loue, or for that thou wilt be mine own, I care not, as I haue

already told thee, and loue him again if thou canst, so mutch as

thou wilt, to whome for the hatred that I haue borne,

I presently bear so mutch good wyll agayne, and for the pleasure

that he hath don thee now. You be amorous and couet the loue of

young men, bicause you see theyr Colour somewhat fresh, their

beard more black, their bodies well shaped to daunce and runne

at Tylt and Ryng, but al these qualities haue they had, that be

growne to elder yeares, and they by good experience know what

other are yet to learn. Moreouer you deeme them the better

horssemen, bicause they can iourney more myles a day than those

that be of farther yeares. Truely I confesse, that with great

paynes they please sutch Venerial Gentlewomen as you be, who doe

not perceyue (like sauage Beastes) what heapes of euill doe

lurke vnder the forme of fayre apparance. Younge men be not

content with one Louer, but so many as they behold, they do

desire, and of so many they think themselues worthy: wherefore

their loue cannot be stable. And that this is true, thou mayest

now be thine owne wytnesse. And yong men thynkyng themselues

worthy to be honoured and cherished of theyr Ladies, haue none

other glory but to vaunt themselues of those whome they have

enioyed: whych fault maketh many to yeld themselues to those

that be discrete and wise, and to sutch as be no blabbes or

Teltales. And where thou sayest that thy loue is knowne to none,

but to thy mayde and me, thou art deceiued, if thou beleue the

same, for al the inhabitants of the streete wherein thy Louer

dwelleth, and the streete also wherein thy house doth stand,

talke of nothynge more than of your Loue. But many times in

sutch cases, the party whome sutch Brute doth touch, is the last

that knoweth it. Moreouer, young men do robbe thee, where they

of elder yeares do gyue thee. Thou then (which hast made sutch

choyse), remayne to him whome thou hast chosen, and me (whom

thou floutest) gyue leaue to apply to an other: for I haue found

a Woman to bee my fryend, which is of an other discretion than

thou art, and knoweth me better than thou dost. And that thou

mayst in an other world be more certaine of myne Eyes desire,

than thou hitherto art, throwe thy selfe downe so soone as thou

canst, that thy soule already (as I suppose) receiued betwene

the armes of the diuel hym selfe may se if mine eyes be troubled

or not, to view thee breake thy Necke. But bicause I think thou

wilt not do me that good turne, I say if the Sunne begin to

warme thee, remember the cold thou madest me suffer, which if

thou canst mingle with that heat, no doubt thou shalt feele the

same more temperate." The comfortlesse Woman seeing that the

Scholler's words tended but to cruell end, began to weepe and

said: "Now then sith nothing can moue thee to take pity for my

sake, at lest wise for the loue of hir, whom thou saiest to be

of better discretion than I, take some compassion: for hir sake

(I say) whom thou callest thy friend, pardon mee and bryng

hither my clothes that I may put them on, and cause me if it

please thee to come down from hence." Then the Scholler began to

laugh, and seing that it was a good while past III. of the

clocke, he answered: "Well go to, for that woman's sake I cannot

wel say nay, or refuse thy request, tel me where thy garments

be, and I wyll go seke them, and cause thee to come downe." She

beleuing hym, was some what comforted, and told hym the place

where she had bestowed them. And the Scholler going out of the

Toure, commaunded his seruaunt to tarry there, and to take heede

that none went in vntil he came againe. Then he departed to one

of hys friends houses, where he wel refreshed himselfe, and

afterwards when he thought time, he layd him downe to slepe. Al

that space mistresse Helena whych was styll vpon the Toure, and

recomforted with a lyttle foolish hope, sorrowful beyonde

measure, began to sit downe, seeking some shadowed place to

bestow hir selfe, and with bitter thoughts and heauy cheare in

good deuotion, wayted for his comming, now musing, now wepyng,

then hopyng, and sodaynely dispayring the Scholler's retourne

wyth hir Clothes: and chaunging from one thought to another,

like one that was weary of trauel, and had taken no rest al the

Nyght, she fel into a litle slumbre. But the Sun whych was

passing hote, being aboute noone, glaunced his burning beames

vpon hir tender body and bare head, with sutch force, as not

only it singed the flesh in sight, but also did chip and parch

the same with sutch rosting heat, as she which soundly slepte,

was constrayned to wake: and feling that raging warmth, desirous

somewhat to remoue hir self, she thought in turning that all hir

tosted flesh had opened and broken, like vnto a skyn of

parchement holden against the fire: besides with payne extreame,

hir head began to ake, with sutch vehemence, as it seemed to be

knocked in pieces: and no maruel, for the pament of the Toure

was so passing hotte, as neither vpon hir feete, or by other

remedy, shee could find place of rest. Wherefore without power

to abide in one place, she stil remoued to and fro wepying

bitterly. And moreouer, for that no Wynd did blow, the Toure was

haunted wyth sutch a swarme of Flies, and Gnats, as they

lighting vppon hir parched flesh, did so cruelly byte and stinge

hir, that euery of them seemed worsse than the prycke of a

Nedle, which made hir to bestirre hir hands, incessantly to

beate them off cursing still hir selfe, hir Lyfe, hir friend and

Scholler. And being thus and with sutch pain bitten and

afflicted with the vehement heat of the Sun, with the Flies and

gnats, hungry, and mutch more thyrsty, assailed with a thousand

grieuous thoughts, she arose vp, and began to loke about hir if

she could heare or see any person, purposing whatsoeuer came of

it to call for helpe. But hir ill fortune had taken way al this

hoped meanes of hir reliefe: for the Husbandmen and other

Laborers were al gone out of the fields to shrowd themselues

from the heate of the day, sparing their trauail abrode, to

thresh their corn and doe other things at home, by reason

whereof she neither saw nor hearde any thing, except

Butterflies, humble bees, crickets, and the riuer of Arno, which

making hir lust to drink of the water quenched hir thirst

nothing at al, but rather did augment the same. She sawe besides

in many places, woodes, shadows and houses, which lykewyse did

breede hir double grief, for desire she had vnto the same. But

what shal we speak any more of this vnhappy woman? The Sunne

aboue, and the hot Toure paiment below, wyth the bitings of the

flies and gnats, had on euery part so dressed hir tender corps,

that where before the whitenesse of hir body did passe the

darkenesse of the Night, the same was become red, al arayed and

spotted wyth gore bloud, that to the beholder and viewer of hir

state, she seemed the most yll sauored thyng of the Worlde: and

remayning in thys plyght without hope or councel, she loked

rather for death than other comfort. The Scholler after the

Clocke had rounded three in the afternoon, awaked, and

remembring his lady, went to the Toure to see what was become of

hir, and sent his man to dinner, that had eaten nothing all that

day. The Gentlewoman hearing the Scholler, repayred so feeble

and tormented as shee was, vnto the trap doore, and sitting

vppon the same, pityfully weeping began to say: "Rinieri, thou

art beyonde measure reuenged on me, for if I made thee freese

all night in mine open Court, thou haste tosted me to day vppon

this Toure, nay rather burnt with heate, consumed me: and

besides that, to dye and sterue for hunger, and thirst.

Wherefore I pray thee for God's sake to come vp, and sith my

heart is faynt to kill my selfe, I pray thee heartely speedily

to do it. For aboue all things I desire to dy, so great and

bitter is the torment which I endure. And if thou wilt not shewe

me that fauor, yet cause a glasse of Water to be brought vnto

me, that I may moysten my mouth, sith my teares bee not able to

coole the same, so great is the drouth and heate I haue within."

Wel knew the Scholler by hir voyce, hir weake estate, and sawe

besides the most part of hir body all tosted with the Sunne: by

the viewe whereof, and humble sute of hir, he conceiued a little

pitty. Notwythstanding he aunsweared hir in this wise: "Wicked

woman thou shalt not dye with my hands, but of thine owne, if

thou desire the same, and so mutch water shalt thou haue of me

for coolinge of thine heate, as dampned Diues had in hell at

Lazarus handes, when he lifted up his cry to Abraham, holdinge

that saued wighte within his blessed bosome, or as I had fire of

thee for easing of my colde. The greater is my griefe that the

vehemence of my colde must be cured with the heate of sutch a

stincking carion beast, and thy heate healed with the coldnesse

of most Soote and sauerous Water distilled from the orient Rose.

And where I was in daunger to loose my Limmes, and life, thou

wilt renew thy Beauty like the Serpent that casteth his Skin

once a yeare." "Oh myserable wretch" (sayd the woman) "God gieue

him sutch Beauty gotten in this sorte, that wisheth me sutch

euill. But (thou more cruell than any other beast) what heart

haste thou, thus like a Tyraunte to deale with me? What more

grieuous payne coulde I endure of thee, or of any other, than I

do, if I had killed, and done to death thy parents or whole race

of thy stocke and kin with most cruel torments? Truely I know

not what greater tyranny coulde be vsed agaynst a Trayter that

had sacced or put a whole Citty to the sword, than that thou

haste done to me, to make my flesh to bee the foode and rost

meate of the Sunne, and the baite for licorous flies, not

vouchsafing to reach hither a simple glasse of Water whych would

haue bene graunted to the condempned Theefe, and Manqueller,

when they be haled forth to hanging, yea wine most commonly, if

they aske the same. Now for that I see thee still remayne in

obstinate mind, and that my passion can nothinge mooue thee,

I wyll prepare paciently to receiue my death, that GOD may haue

mercy on my soule, whom I humbly beseech with his righteous eyes

to beholde that cruell act of thyne." And with those woords, she

approched with payne to the middle of the terrasse, despayring

to escape that burning heate, and not onely once, but a

thousande times, (besides hir other sorowes) she thought to

sowne for thirst, and bitterly wept without ceasing, complayning

hir mishap. But being almost night, the Scholler thought hee had

done inough, wherefore he tooke hir clothes, and wrapping the

same within his seruaunt's cloke, he went home to the

Gentlewoman's house where he founde before the gate, hir mayde

sitting al sad and heauy, of whom he asked where hir mistresse

was. "Syr," (sayd she) "I cannot tell, I thought this morning to

finde hir a Bed, where I left hir yester night, but I cannot

finde hir there, nor in any other place, ne yet can tell

wheather to goe seeke hir, which maketh my hearte to throb some

misfortune chaunced vnto hir. But (sir quod she) cannot you tell

where she is?" The Scholler aunswered: "I would thou haddest

bene with hir in the place where I left hir, that I might haue

bene reuenged on thee so well, as I am of hir. But beleue

assuredly, that thou shalt not escape my handes vntill I pay

thee thy desert, to the intent hereafter in mocking other, thou

mayst haue cause to remember me." When hee had sayde so, hee

willed his man to gieue the mayde hir Mistresse Clothes, and

then did bidde hir seeke hir out if shee would. The Seruaunte

did his Mayster's commaundment, and the Mayde hauinge receyued

them, knewe them by and by, and markinge well the scholler's

wordes, she doubted least hee had slayne hir Mistresse, and

mutch adoe she had to refrayne from crying out. And the Scholler

being gone, she tooke hir Mistresse Garments, and ran vnto the

Toure. That day by hap, one of the Gentlewoman's labouring Men

had two of his hogges runne a stray, and as he went to seeke

them (a little while after the Scholler's departure) he

approched neare the Toure looking round about if he might see

them. In the busie searche of whom hee heard the miserable

playnt that the vnhappy Woman made, wherefore so loude as he

coulde, be cried out: "Who weepeth there aboue?" The Woman knew

the voice of hir man, and calling him by his name, shee sayde

vnto him: "Goe home I pray thee to call my mayde and cause her

to come vp hither vnto me." The fellow knowing his mistresse

voice sayd vnto hir: "What Dame, who hath borne you vp so hygh?

Your mayde hath sought you al this day, and who would haue

thought to finde you there?" He then taking the staues of the

Ladder, did set it vp against the Toure as it ought to be, and

bounde the steppes that were wanting, with fastenings of Wyllowe

twigges, and sutch like pliant stuffe as he could finde. And at

that instant the mayde came thither, who so soone as she was

entred the Toure, not able to forbeare hir voyce, beating hir

hands, shee began to crye: "Alas sweete Mistresse where be you?"

She hearing the voyce of hir Mayde aunswered so well as shee

could: "Ah (sweete Wench) I am heere aboue, cry no more, but

bring me hither my clothes." When the mayde heard hir speake, by

and by for ioy, in haste she mounted vp the Ladder, which the

Labourer had made ready, and with his helpe gat vp to the

Terrasse of the Toure, and seeing hir Mystresse resembling not a

humayne body but rather a wodden Faggot halfe consumed with

fire, all weary and whithered, lying a long starke naked vppon

the Grounde, she began with hir Nayles to wreke the griefe vpon

hir Face, and wept ouer hir with sutch vehemency as if she had

beene deade. But hir Dame prayed hir for God's sake to holde hir

peace, and to help hir to make hir ready: and vnderstanding by

hir, that no man knewe where she was become, except they which

caried home hir clothes, and the Labourer that was present

there, shee was somewhat recomforted, and prayed them for God's

sake to say nothing of that chaunce to any person. The Laborer

after mutch talke, and request to his Mistresse, to be of good

cheere, when shee was rysen vp, caried hir downe vpon his Necke,

for that she was not able to goe so farre, as out of the Toure.

The poore Mayde which came behinde, in goinge downe the Ladder

without takinge heede, hir foote fayled, and fallinge downe to

the Grounde, shee brake hir Thigh, for griefe whereof she

roared, and cryed out lyke a Lyon. Wherefore the Labourer hauing

placed his Dame vpon a greene banke, went to see what hurt the

Mayde had taken, and perceyued that she had broken hir Thigh, he

caried hir likewise vnto that banke, and placed hir besides hir

mistresse, who seeing one mischiefe vppon another to chaunce,

and that she of whom she hoped for greater help, than of any

other, had broken hir Thigh, sorrowfull beyonde measure, renewed

hir cry so miserably, as not onely the Labourer was not able to

comforte hir, but he himself began to weepe for company. The

Sunne hauinge trauayled into hys Westerne course, and taking his

farewell by settling himselfe to rest, was at the poynct of

goinge downe. And the poore desolate woman vnwilling to be

benighted, went home to the Labourer's house, where taking two

of his Brothers, and his Wyfe, returned to fetch the Mayde, and

caried hir home in a Chayre. Then cheering vp hys Dame with a

little fresh water, and many fayre Wordes, he caried hir vpon

his Necke into a Chaumber, afterwardes his Wyfe made hir warm

Drinks and Meates, and putting of hir clothes, layd hir in hir

Bed, and tooke order that the mistresse and maide that night

were caried to Florence, where the Mistresse ful of lies,

deuised a Tale all out of order of that which chaunced to hir,

and hir Mayde, making hir Brethren, hir Sisters, and other hir

neighbours beleeue, that by flush of lightning, and euill

Sprites, hir face and body were Blistered, and the Mayde stroken

vnder the Arse bone with a Thunderbolt. Then Physitians were

sent for, who not without greate griefe, and payne to the Woman

(which many tymes left hir Skin sticking to the Sheets) cured

hir cruell Feuer, and other hir diseases, and lykewise the mayde

of hir Thigh: which caused the Gentlewoman to forget hir Louer,

and from that time forth wisely did beware and take heede whom

she did mocke, and where she did bestow hir loue. And the

Scholler knowing that the Mayde had broken hir Thigh, thought

himselfe sufficiently reuenged, ioyfully passing by them both

many times in silence. Beholde the reward of a foolish wanton

widow for hir Mockes and Flouts, thinking that no greate care or

more prouident heede ought to be taken in iesting with a

Scholler, than with any other common person, nor well remembring

how they doe know (not all, I say, but the greatest parte) where

the Diuell holdeth his Tayle: and therefore take heede good

Wyues, and Wydowes, how you giue your selues to mockes and

daliaunce, specially of Schollers. But nowe turne we to another

Wyddow that was no amorous Dame but a sober Matrone, a motherly

Gentlewoman, that by pitty, and Money Redeemed, and Raunsomed a

King's Sonne out of myserable Captiuity, that was vtterly

abandoned of all his Friendes. The manner and meanes how the

Nouell ensuing shall shewe.

The Palace of Pleasure, Volume 3 · 第 24 / 46 题