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 THIRTY-SECOND NOUELL.

  _A Gentlewoman and Wydow called Camiola of hir owne minde
  Raunsomed Roland the Kyng’s Sonne of Sicilia, of purpose to
  haue him to hir Husband, who when he was redeemed unkindly
  denied hir, agaynst whom very Eloquently she Inueyed, and
  although the Law proued him to be hir Husband, yet for his
  vnkindnes, shee vtterly refused him._

Bvsa a Gentlewoman of Apulia, maynetayned ten Thousande Romayne
souldiers within the walles of Cannas, that were the remnaunte
of the army after the ouerthrow there: and yet hir State of
Rychesse was saulfe and nothynge dimynished, and left therby a
worthy Testimony of Lyberality as Valerius Maximus affirmeth. If
this worthy woman Busa for Liberality is commended by auncient
Authors: if she deserue a Monument amongs famous Wryters for
that splendent vertue which so brightly blasoneth the Heroicall
natures of Noble dames, then may I bee so bolde amonges these
Nouels to bring in (as it were by the hand) a Wyddow of Messina,
that was a Gentlewoman borne, adorned with passing beauty and
vertues. Amongs the rancke of which hir comely Qualities, the
vertue of Liberality glistered lyke the morninge Starre after
the Night hath cast of his darke and Cloudy Mantell. This
Gentlewoman remayning in Wyddowes state, and hearing tell that
one of the Sonnes of Federicke, and Brother to Peter that was
then King of the sayd Ilande called Rolande, was caried Prysoner
to Naples, and there kept in miserable Captiuity, and not like
to bee redeemed by his Brother for a displeasure conceyued, nor
by any other, pittying the state of the young Gentleman, and
mooued by hir gentle, and couragious disposition, and specially
with the vertue of liberality, raunsomed the sayd Rolande, and
craued no other interest or vsury for the same, but him to
husband, that ought upon his knees to haue made sute to be hir
slaue and seruaunte for respect of his miserable state of
Imprisonment. An affiaunce betweene them was concluded, and he
redeemed, and when hee was returned, hee falsed his former
fayth, and cared not for hir: for which vnkinde part, she before
his Frends inueyeth agaynst that ingratitude, and vtterly
forsaketh him, when (sore ashamed) he would very fayne haue
recouered hir good wil. But she like a wise gentlewoman well
waying his inconstant mynde before mariage, lusted not to taste
or put in proofe the fruicts and successe thereof. The intire
Discourse of whom you shall briefly and presently vnderstand.
Camiola a widow of the City of Siena, the Daughter of a gentle
Knight called Signor Lorenzo Toringo, was a Woman of great
renoume and fame for hir beauty liberality and shamefastnesse,
and led a life in Massina, (an auncient Citty of Sicile) no
lesse commendable than famous, in the company of hir parentes,
contenting hirself wyth one only Husbande, while she liued,
which was in the tyme when Federick the thirde was Kyng of that
Isle: And after their death she was an heyre of very great
wealth and ritchesse, which were alwayes by hir conserued and
kept in maruellous honest sort. Nowe it chaunced that after the
death of Federick, Peter succeedinge by his Commaundement,
a great Army by Sea was equipped from Messina, vnder the conduct
of Iohn Countee of Chiaramonte, (the most Renoumed in those
dayes in Feats of Warre,) for to ayde the people of Lippary,
which were so strongly and earnestly besieged, as they were
almost all dead and consumed for hunger. In this Army, ouer and
besides those that were in pay, many Barons and Gentlemen
willingly went vpon their own proper costes, and charges, as
well by Sea as Lande, onely for fame, and to be renoumed in
armes. This Castell of Lippari was assaulted by Godefrey of
Squilatio a valiaunt Man, and at that time Admiral to Robert
Kyng of Ierusalem and Sicile: Which Godefrey by long siege and
assault, had so famished the people within, as dayly he hoped
they would surrender. But hauing aduertisement (by certayne
Brigandens which he had sent abroade to scour the Seas) that the
Enimies Army (which was farre greater than his) was at hand,
after that he had assembled all his Nauy togeather in one sure
place, he expected the euent of Fortune. The Enimies so soone as
they were seased and possessed of the place, without any
resistaunce of the places abandoned by Godefrey, caried into the
Citty at their pleasure all their victualles. which they brought
wyth them, for which good happe and chaunce the sayde Countee
Iohn being very mutch encouraged and puffed vp wyth pryde,
offred Battell to Godefrey. Wherefore he not refusing the same,
being a man of great corage, in the Night time fortified his
Army with Boordes, Timber, and other Rampiers, and hauing put
his Nauy in good order, he encouraged his Men to fight, and to
doe valiauntly the next day, which done, hee caused the Ankers
to bee wayed, and gieuing the signe, tourned the prowees of hys
Shyppes agaynst the Sicilians Army, but Countee Iohn who thought
that Godefrey would not fight, and durst not once looke vpon the
great army of the Sicilians, did not put his Fleete in order to
fight, but rather in readinesse to pursue the enimies. But
seeing the Courage, and the approch of theym that came agaynste
him, began to feare, his heart almost fayling him, and repented
him that he had required his Enimy to that which he thought
neuer to haue obtayned. In sutch wise as mistrusting the
Battayle with troubled minde, changing the order giuen, and
notwithstanding not to seeme altogither fearefull, incontinently
caused his Ships to be put into order after the best maner he
could for so little tyme, himselfe gieuing the signe of battell.
In the meane while their enimies being approched neere vnto
them, and making a very great noyse with Cryes and Shoutes,
furiously entred the Sicilians, which came slowly forth, and
hauing first throwne their Hookes and Grapples to stay them,
they began the fight with Dartes, Crosse-bowes, and other Shot,
in sutch sort as the Sicilians being amazed for the sodayne
mutation of Councell, and all enuironned with feare, and the
Souldiers of Godefrey perceyuing the same, entred their enimies
Ships, and comming to blowes, even in a moment all was filled
with bloud, by reason whereof the Sicilians, then despayring of
themselues, and they that feared turning the prowes fled away:
But neuerthelesse the Victorye reclininge towardes Godefrey,
many of their Ships were drowned, many taken, and diuers
Pinnasses by force of their Oares escaped. In that fight died
fewe people, but many were hurt, and Ihon the Captayne Generall
taken Prysoner, and with him almost all the Barons, which of
their own accordes repayred to those Warres, and besides a great
number of Souldiers, many Ensignes as well of the field, as of
the Galleyes, and specially the mayne Standerd was taken. And in
the ende, the Castell being rendred after long Voyages, and
great Fortunes by Sea, they were al chayned, caried to Naples
and there imprisoned. Amongs those Prisoners, there was a
certayne Gentleman named Rowlande, the Naturall Sonne of King
Federick deceased, a yong prince very comely and valyaunt. Who
not being redeemed, taried alone in prison very sorrowfull to
see all others discharged after they had payd their Raunsome and
himselfe not to have wherewith to furnish the same. For king
Pietro (to whom the care of him appertayned by reason he was his
Brother), for that his warres had no better successe, and done
contrary to his commaundement, conceyued displeasure so wel
agaynst him, as all others which were at that battell. Nowe hee
then being prisoner without hope of any liberty, by meanes of
the dampishe prison, and his feete clogged with yrons, grewe to
bee sicke and feeble. It chaunced by fortune, that Camiola
remembred him, and seeing him forsaken of his brethren, had
compassyon vppon his missehappe in sutch wise, as she purposed
(if honestly she might doe the same) to set hym at liberty. For
the accomplishment whereof without preiudice of hir honour, she
sawe none other wayes but take him to husband. Wherefore shee
sent diuers vnto him secretely, to conferre if he would come
forth vpon that condition, whereunto he wilingly agreed. And
performing ech due ceremonie, vnder promised faith, vpon the
gift of a ring willingly by a deputy espoused Camiola, who with
so mutch diligence as she could, payed two thousand Crownes for
his ransome, and by that meanes he was deliuerd. When he was
retourned to Messina, he repayred not to his Wyfe, but fared as
though there had neuer bene any sutch talke beetwene theym:
whereof at the begynninge Camiola very mutch maruelled, and
afterwardes knowinge his vnkindenesse was greatly offended in
hir heart against him. Notwithstanding to the intent she might
not seeme to be grieued without reason, before she proceded any
further, caused him louingly to be talked withal, and to be
exhorted by folowing his promyse to consummate the mariage: and
seeing that he denied euer any sutch Contract to be made, she
caused him to be summoned before the Ecclesiastical Iudge, by
whome sentence was giuen that hee was hir husband euidence of
his owne letters, and by witnesse of certayne other personages
of good reputation, which afterwards he himself confessed,
his face blushyng for shame, for that he had forgotten sutch a
manifest benefit and good turne. When the kynde part of Camiola
done vnto him was throughly known, he was by hys Brethren
reproued and checked for hys villany, whereupon by their
instigation, and the persuasion of his frends, he was contented
by humble request to desire Camiola to perform the Nuptials. But
that gentlewoman which was of great corage in the presence of
diuers that were wyth him, when he required hir thereunto,
answered him in this maner: “Rowland I haue great cause to
render thankes to almyghty God, for that it pleased him to
declare vnto me the proofe of thine vnfaythfulnesse, before thou
didst by any meanes contaminate (vnder colour of mariage) the
purity of my body, and that through his fauour, by whose most
holy name thou wentest about to abuse me by false and periured
Oth, I haue foreseene thy Trumpery and deceypt, wherein I
beleeue that I have gayned more than I shoulde haue done by thee
in mariage. I suppose that when thou were in pryson, thou didst
meane no lesse, than now, by effect thou shewest, and diddest
thinke that I, forgetting of what house I was, presumptuously
desired a Husband of the Royal bloud, and therefore wholly
inflamed with thy love, did purpose to beguile mee by denying
the Trouth, when thou haddest recouered lyberty thorough my
Money, and thereby to reserue thy selfe for some other of more
famous Aliaunce, being restored to thy former degree. And
thereby thou hast gieuen proofe of thy will, and what minde thou
haddest so to do if thyne ability had bene correspondent. But
God, who from the lofty Skyes doth beholde the humble and low,
and who forsaketh none that hopeth in him, knowing the sincerity
of my Conscience, hath gieuen mee the grace by little trauayle,
to breake the bands of thy deceipts, to discouer thine
ingratitude, and make manifest thine infidelity, which I haue
not done only to display the wrong towardes me, but that thy
Brethren and other thy friends might from henceforth know what
thou art, what affiaunce they ought to repose in thy fayth,
and thereby what thy frends ought to looke for, and what thine
enimies ought to feare. I have lost my Money, thou thy good
name: I haue lost the hope which I had of thee, thou the fauour
of the Kinge, and of thy brethren: I the expectation of my
mariage, thou a true and constant Wife: I the fruits of charity,
thou the gayne of amity: I an vnfaythful husband, thou a most
pure and loyall Wyfe. Now the Gentlewomen of Sicilia doe
maruayle at my Magnificence, and Beauty, and by prayses aduaunce
the same vp into the heauens: and contrarywise euery of theym
doe mock thee, and deeme thee to be Infamous. The Renoumed
Wryters of ech Countrey will place me amongs the ranke of the
noblest Dames, where thou shalt be depressed, and throwne downe
amonges the Heapes of moste vnkynde. True it is, that I am
somewhat deceyued by deliuering out of Pryson, a yong man of
Royal, and noble race, in steede of whom I have redeemed a
Rascall, a Lier, a Falsifier of his faith, and a cruell Beast:
and take heede hardily how thou do greatly esteme thyselfe, and
I wish thee not to think that I was moued to draw thee out of
Pryson, and take thee to Husbande for the good qualities that
were in thee, but for the memory of auncient benefits which my
father receyued of thine (if Federick, a king of most sacred
remembraunce were thy father, for I can scarsly beleeue, that a
sonne so dishonest should proceede from so noble a Gentleman as
was that famous Prince.) I know well thou thinkest that it was
an vnworthy thing, that a Widow not being of the Royal bloud
should have to husband, the sonne of a Kinge, so strong and of
so goodly personage, which I willingly confesse: but I would
haue thee a little to make me aunswere (at the least wise if
thou canst by reason) when I payd so great a sum of money to
deliuer thee from bondage and captiuity, where was then the
nobility of thy Royall race? Where was thy force of Youth? And
where thy Beauty? If not that they were closed up in a terrible
Pryson, where thou wast detayned in bitter griefe, and sorrowe,
and there with those naturall qualities, couered also in obscure
darknesse, that compassed thee round about. The ill fauoured
noyse and iangling of thy chaines, the deformity of thy Face
forced for lack of light, and the stench of the infected Prison
that prouoked sicknesse, and the forsaking of thy Frends, had
quite debased al these perfections wherewith now thou seemest to
be so lusty. Thou thoughtest me then to be worthy, not onely of
a yong man of a royall bloud, but of a God, if it were possible
to haue him, and so soon as thou (contrary to all hope) didst
once visite thy natural Countrey, like a most pestilent person
without any difficulty, haste chaunged thy mynde, and neuer
since thou wast deliuered, once did call into thy remembraunce
how I was that Camiola, that I was shee (alone) that did
remembre thee: that I was shee (alone) that had compassion on
thy mishap, and that I was onely shee, who for thy health did
imploy all the goods I had. I am, I am (I say) that Camiola,
who by hir Money raunsomed thee out of the hands of the Capitall
enimies of thine Auncesters, from Fetters, from Pryson: and
finally deliuered thee from Misery extreme, before thou were
altogether settled in dispayre. I reduced thee agayne to hope,
I haue reuoked thee into thy Countrey, I haue brought thee into
the Royal Pallace, and restored thee into thy former Estate, and
of a Prisoner weake, and ill fauoured, haue made the a younge
Prynce, strong, and of fayre aspect. But wherefore haue I
remembred these things, whereof thou oughtest to bee very
mindefull thy selfe, and which thou art not able to deny? Sith
that for so great benefits thou hast rendred me sutch thanks,
as being my husband in deede, thou haddest the Face to deny me
mariage, already contracted by the deposition of honest
Witnesses, and approued by Lettres, Signed with thine owne hand.
Wherefore diddest thou despise me that hath delyuered thee? Yea
and if thou couldest haue stayned the Name of hir with Infamy,
that was thine onely Refuge, and Defender, thou wouldest gladly
haue giuen cause to the common people, to thinke lesse than
Honesty of hir. Art thou ashamed (thou Man of little Iudgement)
to haue to Wyfe a Wyddowe, the Daughter of a Knight? O how farre
better had it ben for thee to haue bene ashamed to breake thy
promised fayth, to haue dispised the holy and dreadfull name of
God, and to haue declared by thy curssed vnkindnes, how full
fraught thou art with Vice. I doe confesse in deede that I am
not of the Royall bloud: notwithstanding from the Cradle, being
Trayned, and brought vp in the Company of kinges Wyues, and
Daughters, no great maruayle it is, if I haue indued and put on
a Royall heart and manners, that is able to get, and purchase
royall Nobility: but wherefore doe I multiply so many wordes?
No, no, I will be very facile, and easie in that wherein thou
haste ben to me so difficult and hard by resisting the same with
all thy power. Thou haste refused heretofore to be mine, and
hauing vanquished thee, to be sutch, franckly of myne owne
accorde, I doe graunt that thou art not. Abide (on God’s name)
with thy royall Nobility, neuerthelesse defiled with the spot of
Infidelity. Make mutch of thy youthly lustinesse, and of thy
transitory beauty, and I shal be contented with my Wyddow
apparell, and shall leaue the riches which God hath geuen me to
Heyres more honest than those that might haue come of thee.
Auaunt thou wycked yong man, and sith thou art coumpted to be
vnworthy of me, learne with thine own experience, by what
subtilty and guiles thou maiest betray other dames, suffiseth it
for me to be once deceyued. And I for my parte fully determine
neuer to tary longer with thee, but rather chastly to lyue
without husband, which lyfe I deeme farre more excellent than
with thy match continually to be coupled.” After shee had spoken
these words, shee departed from him, and from that time forth,
it was impossible eyther by prayers, or Admonitions to cause hir
chaunge hir holy intent. But Rowland al confused, repenting
himself to late of hys Ingratitude, blamed of ech man, his eyes
fixed vpon the grounde, auoyding not onely the presence of his
brethren, but of all sorts of people, dayly led from that time
forth, a most miserable life, and neuer durst by reason to
demaunde hir againe to Wife, whom he had by disloyalty refused.
The King and the other Barons, marueyling of the noble heart of
the Lady, singularly commended hir, and exalted hir prayses vp
into the Skyes, vncertayne neuerthelesse wherein shee was most
worthy of prayse, eyther for that (contrary to the couetous
nature of Women) she had raunsomed a yong man with so great a
Summe of Money, or else after she had deliuered him, and
sentence gieuen that he was hir Husbande, she so couragiously
refused him, as an vnkinde man, vnworthy of hir company. But
leaue we for a tyme, to talke of Wydowes, and let vs see what
the Captayne, and Lieutenaunt of Nocera can alledge vpon the
discourse of his cruelties, which although an ouer cruell
Hystory, yet depaynteth the successe of those that apply their
myndes to the Sportes of Loue, sutch Loue I meane, as is
wantonly placed, and directed to no good purpose, but for
glutting of the Bodye’s delight, which both corrupteth nature,
maketh feeble the body, lewdly spendeth the time, and specially
offendeth him who maketh proclamation, that Whooremongers and
adultrers shal neuer Inherite his Kyngdome.

THE THIRTY-THIRD NOUELL.

  _Great cruelties chaunced to the Lords of Nocera, for adultry
  by one of them committed with the Captayne’s wyfe of the forte
  of that Citty, with an enterprise moued by the Captaine to the
  Cittyzens of the same for Rebellion, and the good and dutyfull
  aunswere of them: with other pityfull euents rysing of that
  notable and outragious vyce of whoredom._

The furious rage of a Husband offended for the chastity violated
in his Wyfe, surpasseth all other, and ingendreth mallice
agaynst the doer whatsoeuer he be. For if a Gentleman, or one of
good nature, cannot abyde an other to doe him any kinde of
displeasure, and mutch lesse to hurt him in hys Body, how is he
able to endure to haue his honour touched, specially in that
part which is so neere vnto him as his owne Soule? Man, and Wyfe
being as it were one body and one will, wherein Men of good
Judgement cannot well like the Opinion of those which say that
the honour of a lusty and couragious person dependeth not vpon
the fault of a foolish woman: for if that wer true which they so
lightly vaunt, I would demaund why they be so animated and angry
against them which adorne their head with braunched Hornes, the
Ensignes of a Cuckolde: and truely nature hath so well prouided
in that behalfe, as the very sauage Beastes doe fight, and
suffer death for sutch honest Jealousie. Yet will I not prayse,
but rather accuse aboue al faulty men, those that be so fondly
Jealous, as eche thinge troubling their mindes, be afrayde of
the Flyes very shadowe that buzze about their Faces. For by
payning and molestinge theymselues with a thinge that so little
doth please and content them, vntill manifest, and euident
proofe appeare, they display the folly of their minde’s
imperfection, and the weakenesse of their Fantasy. But where the
fault is knowne, and the Vyce discouered, where the husbande
seeth himselfe to receyue Damage in the soundest part of his
moueable goods, reason it is that he therein be aduised by
timely deliberation and sage foresight, rather than with
headlong fury, and raging rashnesse to hazard the losse of his
honour, and the ruine of his life and goods. And lyke as the
fayth and fidelity of the vndefiled Bed hath in all times
worthely ben commended and rewarded: euen so he that polluteth
it by Infamy, beareth the penaunce of the same. Portia the
Daughter of Cato, and wife of Brutus shall be praysed for euer,
for the honest and inuiolable loue which she bare vnto hir
beloued husband, almost like to lose hir life when she heard
tell of his certayne death. The pudicity of Paulina the wife of
Seneca appeared also, when she assayed to dy by the same kinde
of death wherewith hir Husband violently was tormented by the
vniust commaundement of the most cruel and horrible Emperoure
Nero. But Whores and Harlottes, having honest Husbands, and well
allied in Kin, and Ligneage by abandoning their bodyes, doe
prodigally consume their good Renoume: yea but if they escape
the Magistrates, or auoyde the wrath of offended husbandes for
the wrong done vnto them, yet they leaue an immortall slaunder
of their wicked life, and youth thereby may take example aswell
to shun sutch shamelesse Women, as to followe those Dames that
be Chaste, and Vertuous. Now of this contempt whych the Wyfe
beareth to hir Husband, do rise very many times notorious
slaunders, and sutch as are accompanied with passinge cruelties:
wherein the Husbande ought to moderate his heate, and calme his
choler, and soberly to chastise the fault, for so mutch as
excessiue wrath, and anger, doe Eclipse in man the light of
reason, and sutch rages doe make them to be semblable vnto
Brute, and reasonlesse Beastes: meete it is to be angry for
thinges done contrary to Right, and Equity, but Temperaunce,
and Modesty is necessary in al occurrentes, bee they wyth vs, or
against vs. But if to resist anger in those matters, it be hard
and difficulte, yet the greater impossibility there is in the
operation, and effect of any good thinge, the greater is the
glory that vanquisheth the affection and mastereth the first
motion of the minde which is not so impossible to gouerne, and
subdue to reason, as many do esteeme. A wise man then cannot so
farre forget his duety, as to exceede the Boundes, and Limits of
reason, and to suffer his mynde to wander from the siege of
Temperaunce, which if he doe after hee hath well mingled Water
in his Wyne, hee may chaunce to finde cause of Repentaunce, and
by desire to repayre his Offense augment his fault, sinne being
so prompt and ready in man, as the crime which might bee couered
with certayne Iustice, and coloured by some lawe or righteous
cause, maketh him many tymes to fall into detestable Vice and
Synne, so contrary to mildnesse and modesty, as the very
Tyraunts themselues woulde abhorre sutch wickednesse. And to the
ende that I do not trouble you with Allegation of infinite
numbres of examples, seruing to this purpose, ne render occasion
of tediousnes for you to reuolue so many bookes, I am contented
for this present, to bring in place an Hystory so ouer cruell,
as the cause was not mutch vnreasonable, if duty in the one had
bene considered, and rage in the other bridled and foreseene,
who madly murthered and offended those that were nothing guilty
of the Facte, that touched him so neare. And although that these
be matters of loue, yet the Reader ought not to bee grieued nor
take in evill parte, that we bee still in that Argument. For we
doe not hereby goe about to erect a Schoolehouse of Loue, or to
teache Youth the wanton Toyes of the same. But rather bryng
forth these Examples to withdraw the plyant, and tender Age of
this our time, from the pursuite of like Follies, which may
(were they not in this sort warned) ingender lyke effects that
these our Hystoryes do recoumpt, and whereof you shall bee
Partakers by reading the discourse that followeth. Yee must than
vnderstand, that in the time that Braccio Montone, and Sforza
Attendulo florished in Italy, and were the chiefest of the
Italian men of warre, there were three Lords and brethren which
held vnder their authority and Puissaunce Foligno, Nocera, and
Treuio, parcell of the Dukedome of Spoleto, who gouerned so
louingly their Landes together, as without diuision, they
maynetayned themselues in great Estate, and lyued in Brotherly
concorde. The name of the Eldest of these three Lordes was
Nicholas, the second Cæsar, the yongest Conrade, gentle
Personages, wise and wel beloued so well of the Noble men their
Neyghbours, as also of the Cittyzens that were vnder their
Obeysaunce, who in the ende, shewed greater loyalty towards
them, than those that had sworne their fayth, and had giuen
Pleadges for confirmation, as yee shal perceyue by reading what
insueth. It chaunced that the eldest oftentimes repayring from
Foligno to Nocera, and lodging still in the Castell, behelde
with a little to mutch wanton Eye, the Wyfe of his Lieutenaunt
whych was placed there with a good number of dead payes, to
Guard the Fort, and keepe vnder the Cittizens, if by chaunce
(as it happeneth vpon the new erection of Estates) they attemped
some new enterprise agaynst their Soueraygne Lordes. Nowe this
Gentlewoman was very fayre, singularly delighting to be looked
vpon: which occasioned the Lord Nicholas, by perceyuing the
wantonesse and good wyll of the Mystresse of the Castell, not to
refuse so good occasion, determining to prosecute the inioying
of hir, that was the Bird after which he hunted, whose Beauty
and good grace had deepely wounded his Mind, wherin if he forgot
his duety, I leaue for al men of good iudgement to consider. For
me thinke that this young Lorde ought rather singularly to loue
and cherysh his liuetenaunt that faithfullye and trustily had
kept his Castell and Forte, than to prepare agaynst him so
Trayterous an Attempt, and Ambushe. And if so bee hys sayd
Lieutenaunt had bene accused of felony, misprison, or Treason
(yet to speake the trouth) hee might haue deliuered the charge
of his Castell vnto an other, rather then to suborne his Wyfe to
folly. And ought likewise to haue considered that the
Lieuetenaunt by puttinge his trust in him, had iust cause to
complayne for Rauishing hys Honoure from hym in the Person of
hys Wyfe, whom hee ought to haue loued wythout any affection to
Infrindge the Holy Lawe of Amitye, the breakinge whereof
dissolueth the duety of ech Seruaunt towardes his Soueraygne
Lord and mayster. To be short, this blinded Louer yelding no
resistaunce to loue, and the foolish conceipt which altereth the
iudgements of the wisest, suffred his fansie to roue so farre
vnto hys Appetites, as on a daye when the Lieuetenaunte was
walked abroade into the Castel to view the Souldiours and deade
payes (to pleasure him that sought the meanes of his
displeasure) hee spake to the Gentlewoman his Wyfe in this
manner: “Gentlewoman, you being wise and curteous as ech man
knoweth, needefull it is not to vse long or Rethoricall
Orations, for so mutch as you without further supply of talk do
clearely perceyue by my Looks, Sighes, and earnest Viewes,
the loue that I beare you, which without comparison nippeth my
Hearte so neare as none can feele the parching paynes, that the
same poore portion of me doth suffer. Wherefore hauing no great
leysure to let you further vnderstand my mynde, it may please
you to shewe me so mutch Fauour as I may be receyued for him,
who hauing the better right of your good grace, may therewithall
enioy that secret Acquayntance, which sutch a one as I am
deserueth: of whom yee shall haue better experience if you
please to accept him for your owne.” This mistresse Lieutenaunt
which compted hir selfe happy to be beloued of hir Lorde, and
who tooke great pleasure in that aduenture, albeit that shee
desyred to lette hym knowe the good will that she bare vnto him,
yet dissembled the matter a little, by aunswering him in this
wise: “Your disease Sir is sodayne, if in so little time you
haue felt sutch excesse of malady: but perchance it is your
heart that being ouer tender, hath lightly receyued the pricke,
which no doubt will so soone vanish, as it hath made so ready
entry. I am very glade (Sir) that your heart is so merily
disposed to daliaunce, and can finde some matter to contriue the
superfluitie of tyme, the same altering the diuersity of man’s
complexion, accordingly as the condition of the hourely Planet
guideth the nature of euery wight.” “It is altogither otherwise
(aunswered hee) for being come hither as a master and Lord, I am
become a seruaunt and slaue: and briefly to speake my minde, if
you haue not pitty vpon me, the disease which you call sodayne,
not only will take increase, but procure the death and finall
ruine of my heart.” “Ah sir,” (sayd the Gentlewoman) “your
griefe is not so deepely rooted, and death so present to
succeede as you affirme, ne yet so ready to gieue ouer the
place, as you protest, but I see what is the matter, you desire
to laugh mee to scorne, and your heart craueth something to
solace it selfe which cannot be idle, but must imploy the vacant
tyme vpon some pleasaunt Toyes.” “You haue touched the pricke
(aunswered the Louer) for it is you in deede wherevpon my hearte
doth ioy, and you are the cause of my Laughter and passetime,
for otherwise all my delights were displeasures, and you also by
denying me to be your seruaunt, shall abbreuiate, and shorten my
liuing dayes, who only reioyseth for choyse of sutch a
mystresse.” “And how (replied she) can I be assured of that you
say? The disloyalty, and infidelity of man being in these dayes
so faste vnited, so hastely following one another, as the Shadow
doth the Body, wheresoeuer it goeth.” “Onely experience”
(sayed he) “shall make you know what I am, and shall teach you
wheather my heart is any thing different from my wordes, and I
dare bee bolde to say, that if you vouchsafe to do mee the
pleasure to receyue mee for your owne, you may make your vaunt
to haue a Gentleman so faythfull for your frend, as I esteeme
you to be discrete, and as I desire to let you taste the effect
of mine affection, by sutch some honest order as may be
deuised.” “Sir” (sayd she) “it is well and aduisedly spoken of
you, but yet I thincke it straunge for sutch a Gentleman as you
be, to debase your honor to so poore a Gentlewoman, and to goe
about both to dishonor me, and to put my life in pearill.” “God
forbid” (aunswered the Lord Nicholas) “that I be cause of any
slaunder, and rather had I dye my selfe than minister one simple
occasion whereby your fame should be brought in question. Only I
doe pray you to have pitty vpon me, and by vsing your curtesie,
to satisfie that which my seruice and faythfull friendship doth
constrayne, and binde you for the comfort of him that loueth you
better than himselfe.” “We will talke more thereof hereafter”
(aunswered the lieuetenaunt’s Wyfe) “and than will I tell you
mine aduise, and what resolution shall follow the summe of your
demaunde.” “How now Gentlewoman” (sayd he) “haue you the heart
to leaue me voyde of hope, to make me languish for the
prorogation of a thing so doubtful as the delayes bee which loue
deferreth? I humbly pray you to tell me whereunto I shall trust:
to the intent that by punishing my heart for proofe of this
enterprise, I may chastise all mine Eyes by reuing from them the
meanes for euer more to see that which contenteth me best, and
wherein resteth my solace, leauing my minde full of desires, and
my heart without final stay, vppon the greatest Pleasure that
euer man coulde choose.” The Gentlewoman would not loose a Noble
man so good and perfect: whose presence already pleased hir
aboue all other thinges, and, who voluntarily had agreed to hys
request, by the onely signe of hir Gests, and Lookes, sayde vnto
him smilinge with a very good grace: “Doe not accuse my heart of
lightnesse, nor my minde of infidelity and treason, if to please
and obey you, I forget my duty, and abuse the promise made unto
my Husband, for I sweare vnto you (sir) by God, that I haue more
forced my thought, and of long time haue constrayned mine
appetites in dissembling the loue that I beare you, than I haue
receiued pleasure, by knowing my selfe to be beloued by one
agreeable to mine affection. For which cause you shall finde me
(being but a poore Gentlewoman) more ready to do your pleasure,
and to be at your commaundement, than any other that liueth be
shee of greater Port, and regarde than I am. And who to satisfie
your request, shal one day sacrifice that fidelity to the
iealous fury of hir husband.” “God defend” (sayd the young Lord)
“for we shal be so discrete in our doings, and so seldome
communicate, and talke togeather, as impossible for any man to
discry the same. But if mishap will haue it so, and that some
ill lucke doe discouer our dealinges, I haue shift of wayes to
coloure it, and power to stop the mouthes of them that dare
presume to clatter and haue to do with our priuate conference.”
“All that I know wel inough sir” (sayd she) “but it is great
simplicity in sutch thinges for a man to trust to his authority,
the forced inhibition whereof shall prouoke more babble, than
rumor is able to spreade for all his tattling talk of our secret
follies. Moreouer I would be very glad to do what pleaseth you,
so the same may be without slaunder. For I had rather dy, than
any should take vs in our priuities and familier pastimes: let
vs be contented with the pleasure that the ease of our ioy may
graunt, and not with sutch contentation as shal offend vs, by
blotting the clerenesse of our good name.” Concluding then the
time of their new acquayntaunce, which was the next day at
noone, when the Lieutenaunt did walke into the Citty, they
ceased their talke for feare of his enteruiew. Who (upon his
retourne) doing reuerence vnto his Lord, tolde him that hee
knewe where a wilde Boare did haunte, if it pleased him to see
the pastime. Whereunto the Lord Nicholas fayned louingly to
gieue eare (although agaynst his will) for so mutch as hee
thought the same Huntinge should be a delay for certayne dayes
to the enioying, (pretended and assured) of his beloued. But she
that was so mutch or more esprysed with the raging and
intollerable fire of loue, speedily found meanes to satisfie hir
louer’s sute, but not in sutch manner as was desired of eyther
partes, wherefore they were constrayned to defer the rest vntill
an other time. This pleasaunt beginning so allured the Lord of
Nocera, as vnder the pretence of huntinge, there was no weeke
that passed, but hee came to visite the Warrener of hys
Lieutenaunt. And this order continuing without any one little
suspition of their loue, they gouerned theymselues wisely in
pursute thereof. And the Lord Nicholas vsed the game and sporte
of Hunting, and an infinite number of other exercises, as the
running of the Ring, and Tennis, not so mutch thereby to finde
meanes to enioy his Lady, as to auoyde occasion of Iealosie in
hir Husband, being a very familiar vice in all Italians, the
Cloake whereof is very heauy to beare, and the disease
troublesome to sustayne. But what? Like as it is hard to beguile
an Vsurer in the accoumpt of his money, for his continuall watch
ouer the same, and slumbring sleepes vpon the Bookes of his
recknings and accoumpts, so difficult it is to deceyue the heart
of a iealous man, and specially when he is assured of the griefe
which his head conceyueth. Argus was neuer so cleere eyed for
all his hundred Eyes ouer Iupiter’s Lemman, as those Louers be,
whose opinions be ill affected ouer the chastity of their Wyues.
Moreouer what Foole, or Asse is hee, who seeing sutch vndiscrete
familiarity of two Louers, the priuy gestures and demeanors
without witnesse, theyr stolne walkes at vntymely houres, and
sometimes theyr embracements to, strayght and common before
seruants, that would not doubt of that whych most secretly did
passe? True it is that in England (where liberty is so honestly
obserued as being alone or secrete conuersation gyueth no cause
of suspition) the same mighte haue bene borne withall. But in
Italy, where the Parents themselues be for the most part
suspected, (if there had bene no facte in deede committed) that
familiarity of the Lord Nicholas, with hys Lieutenaunte’s Wyfe
was not suffrable, but exceded the Bounds of reason, for so
mutch as the Commoditie which they had chosen for possessing of
theyr loue, (albeit the same not suspitions) animated them
afterwards to frequent their familiarity and dysporte to
frankly, and wythout discretion: which was the cause that
fortune (who neuer leaueth the ioyes of men wythout giuing
thereunto some great alarme,) being enuious of the mutuall
delightes of those two louers, made the husband to doubt of that
which hee would haue dissembled, if honor could so easily be
loste wythoute reproch, as bloud is shed without peryll of Lyfe,
but the matter being so cleare, as the fault was euident,
specyally in the party which touched him so neare as hymselfe,
the Lieuetenaunt before he would enterpryse any thing, and
declare what he thought desired throughly to bee resolued of
that whych hee sawe as it were but in a Cloude, and by reason of
hys conceyued Opynion hee dealt so warely and wisely in those
affaires, and was so subtil an espiall, as one day when the
louers were at theyr game, and in their most straite and secrete
embracements, he viewed them coupled with other leash, than he
would haue wished, and colled with straighter bands then reason
or honesty did permit. He saw with out beeing seene, wherein he
felt a certaine ease and contentment, for being assured of that
he doubted, and purposed to ordeyne a sowre refection after
their delightsome banket, the simple louers ignoraunt by signe
or coniecture, that their enterpryses were dyscouered. And
truely it had ben more tollerable and lesse hurteful for the
Lieuetenaunte, if euen then hee had perpetrated his vengeaunce,
and punyshed them for theyr wyckednesse, than to vse the Cruelty
wherewith afterwardes he blotted his renoume, and soyled his
hands by Bedlem rage in the innocent bloud of those that were
not priuye to the folly, and lesse guilty of the wronge don vnto
him. Now the Captain of the Castel for al his dissimulation in
couering of his griefe, and his fellony and Treason intended
against his soueraigne Lord, which he desired not yet manifestly
to appeare, was not able any more from that time forth to speake
so louingly vnto him, nor with sutch respect and reuerence as he
did before, which caused his Wife thus to say vnto hir Louer:
“My Lord I doubt very mutch least my husband doth perceiue these
our common practizes, and secrete familiar dealings, and that he
hath some Hammer working in his heade, by reason of the
Countenaunce,{ }and vncheareful entertaynement which he sheweth
to your Lordship, wherefore myne aduyse is, that you retire for
a certaine tyme to Foligno. In the meane space I wil marke and
espye if that his alteration be conceiued for any matter against
vs, and wherefore his wonted lookes haue put on this new
alteration and chaunge. All which when I haue (by my espial and
secret practize sounded) I will spedily aduertise you, to the
end that you may provide for the sauegard of your faithfull and
louing seruaunt.” The young Lord, who loued the Gentlewoman wyth
al his heart, was attached with so great gryefe, and dryuen into
sutch rage by hearyng those wycked Newes, as euen presently he
woulde haue knowne of hys Lieuetenaunt, the cause of his
dyswonted cheare. But weighing the good aduyse whych his woman
had giuen him, paused vppon the same, and promysed hir to doe
what she thought best. By reason whereof, gyuynge warnyng to his
Seruantes for hys departure, he caused the Lyeuetenaunte to be
called before him, vnto whome hee sayd: “Captayne, I had
thoughte for certayne Dayes to sporte and passe my tyme, but
hearing tell that the Duke of Camarino commeth to Foligno, to
debate with vs of matters of importaunce, I am constrained to
departe, and do pray you in the meane time to haue good regard
vnto our affaires, and if any newes doe chaunce to aduertise the
same wyth all Expedytion.” “Sir” (sayd the Captayne) “I am
sorrye that now when our passetime of hunting myght yelde some
good recreation vnto your honour, that you doe thus forsake vs,
notwithstanding sith it is your good pleasure, we will cease the
chase of the wylde Bore till your retourne. In the meane time,
I will make ready the Coardes and Tramelles, that vppon your
comming, nothing want for the Furniture of our sport.” The Lord
Nicholas, seeing his Lieuetenaunt so pleasauntly disposed, and
so litle bent to Choller, or iealous fantasie, was persuaded,
that some other toy had rather occupyed his Minde, than any
suspition betweene his Wife and hym. But the subtyll Husband
searched other meanes to be reuenged, than by kylling him alone,
of whom he receyued that dishonour, and was more craftie to
enterpryse, and more hardie to execute, than the Louers were
wyse or well aduised to preuent and wythstande his sleightes and
pollicies. And albeit that the Wyfe (after the departure of hir
Fryend) assayed to drawe from him the cause of his altered
cheare yet coulde shee neuer learne, that hir husband had any
ill opinion of theyr Loue. For so many tymes as talke was moued
of the Lord Nicholas, hee exalted his prayse vp into the
Heauens, and commended hym aboue all his Brethren. All whych hee
dyd to beguyle the pollycies of hir, whome he saw to blush, and
many times chaunge Colour, when she heard him spoken of, to whom
she bare better affection than to hir Husband, vnto whom
(in very dede) she did owe the faith and integritie of hir body.
This was the very toile which he had laid to intrap those
amorous persons and purposed to rid the world of them by that
meanes, to remoue from before his eyes, the shame of a
Cuckolde’s title, and to reuenge the iniurie don to his
reputation. The mistresse of the Castel seeynge that hir husband
(as shee thought) by no meanes did vnderstande hir follies,
desired to continue the pleasure, which either of them desired,
and which made the third to die of phrenesie, wrote to the Lord
Nicholas, the letter that followeth.

“My Lord, the feare I had, that my husband should perceyue our
loue, caused me to intreat you certaine dayes past, to
discontinue for a time, the frequentation of your owne house,
whereby I am not little agrieued, that contrary to my wil, I am
defrauded of your presence, which is far more pleasaunt vnto me,
than my husband’s flatteries, who ceaseth not contynually to
talke of the honest behauiour, and commendable qualyties that be
in you, and is sorry for your departure, bicause he feareth that
you mislyke youre entertainement, whych should be (sayth he) so
gryeuous and noysome vnto him, as death it selfe. Wherefore,
I pray you sir, if it be possible, and that your affayres doe
suffer you, to come hither to the ende I may enioy your amayable
presence, and vse the Liberty that our good hap hath prepared,
through the litle iealousie of my husband your Lieuetenaunt:
who I suppose before it be long wil intreat you, so great is his
desire to make you passetime of hunting within your owne Land
and territory. Fayle not then to come I beseech you, and we wyll
so well consider the gouernment of our affaires, as the best
sighted shall not once discry the least suspicion thereof,
recommending my selfe most humbly (after the best maner I can)
to your good Lordship.”

This Letter was deliuered to a Lackey to beare to the Lord
Nicholas, and not so priuily done, but the Lieutenaunt
immediately espied the deceipt which the sooner was disciphred,
for so mutch as he dayely lay in wayte to find the meanes to
reuenge the wrong done vnto him, of purpose to beate the iron so
long as it was hotte, and to execute hys purpose before his Wife
tooke heede, and felte the endeuor of his Enterpryse. And
bicause that shee had assayed by diuers wayes to sound his
heart, and fele whether he had conceiued displeasure against the
Lord hir louer, the Day after wherein she had written to hir
friend, hee sent one of his Men in poste to the three Lordes,
to requyre them to come the nexte Day to see the pastime of the
fayrest and greatest wild Bore, that long tyme was bred in the
Forrests adioyning vnto Nocera, Albeit that the Countrey was
fayre for coursinge, and that dyuers tymes many fayre Bores haue
ben encountred there. But it was not for this, that he had
framed his errand, but to trap in one toyle and snare the thre
brethren, whom he determined to sacrifice to the aulter of his
vengeance, for the expiation of theyr elder brother’s trespasse,
and for soyling the Nuptial bed of his seruaunt. He was the
wylde Bore whome he meant to strike, hee was the pray of his
vnsaciable and cruell Appetite. If the fault had ben generall of
all three togethers, he had had some reason to make them passe
the bracke of one equall fortune, and to tangle them within one
net, both to preuent thereby (as he thought) his further hurt,
and to chastise their leude behauiour. For many tymes
(as lamentable experience teacheth) Noble men for the onely
respecte of their Nobility, make no Conscience to doe wrong to
the honor of them, whose reputation and honesty, they ought so
wel to regard as their owne. Herein offended the good Prynce of
the Iewes Dauid, when to vse his Bersabe without suspition, he
caused innocent Vrias to bee slayne, in lieu of recompence for
his good seruice, and diligent execution of his behests. The
children of the proud Romane king Tarquinius, did herein greatly
abuse them selues, when they violated that noble Gentlewoman
Lucrece, whom al histories do so mutch remembre, and whose
chastity, al famous writers do commend. Vppon sutch as they be,
vengeance ought to be don, and not to defile the hands in the
bloud of innocents, as the Parents and Kinsemen of deade Lucrece
did at Rome, and this Lieutenaunt at Nocera, vppon the brethren
of him that had sent him into Cornwal, without passing ouer the
Seas. But what? Anger proceding of sutch wronge, surmounteth al
phrenesie, and exceedeth al the bounds of reason, and man is so
deuoyd of Wyts, by seeing the blot of defamation, to lyght vpon
him, as he seeketh al meanes to hurt and displease him that
polluteth his renoume. Al the race of the Tarquines for like
fact were banyshed Rome, for the onely brute whereof, the
husband of the faire rauished wife, was constrayned to auoid the
Place of his natiuity. Paris alone violated the body of
Menelaus, the Lacedemonian kyng, but for reuenge of the rauyshed
Greeke, not onely the glory and Rychesse of stately Troy, but
also the most parte of Asia and Europa, was ouertourned and
defaced, if credyte may be gyuen to the recordes of the
Auncyent. So in this fact of the Lieutenaunt, the Lord Nicholas
alone, had polluted his bed, but the reuenge of the cruel man
extended further, and his fury raged so farre, as the guiltlesse
were in greate Daunger to beare the penaunce, which shall be
well perceiued by the discourse that foloweth. The Captaine then
hauing sent his message, and beyng sure of his intent (no lesse
than is he already had the brethren within his hold, vpon the
point to couple them together with his wife, to send them all in
pilgrimage to visite the faithfull forte, that blason their
loues in an other worlde, with Dydo, Phyllis, and sutch like,
that more for dispayre than loue, bee passed the straictes of
death) caused to be called before him in a secrete place, al the
souldiers of the Fort, and sutch as with whome he was sure to
preuayle, to whom not without sheading forth some teares, in
heauie Countenaunce, he spake in this maner: “My Companions and
Fryends, I doubt not but yee bee abashed to see me wrapt in so
heauy plyght, and appeare in this forme before you (that is to
say) bewept, heauy, panting with sighes, and all contrary to my
custome, in other state and maner, than my courage and degree
requyre. But when ye shall vnderstand the cause I am assured
that the case whych seemeth straunge to you, shall be thought
just and ryght and so will perfourme the thing wherein I shall
employe you. Ye knowe that the first point that a Gentleman
ought to regarde, consisteth not onely in repelling the iniury
done vnto the body, but rather it behoueth that the fight begin
for the defense of his honor, which is a thinge that proceedeth
from the Minde, and resorteth to the Body, as the Instrument to
worke that which the spyryte appointeth. Now it is honour, for
conseruation whereof, an honest man and one of good Courage
feareth not to put hymselfe in all perill and daunger of death
and losse of goodes, referring himselfe also to the guarde of
that whych toucheth as it were oure owne reputation. In sutch
wyse as if a good Captaine do suffer hys souldier to be a wycked
man, a Robber, a Murderer, and an exacter, he beareth the note
of dyshonor albeit in all his doings he gouerneth his estate
after the rule of honesty, and doth nothing that is vnworthy his
vocation. But what? he being a head vnited to sutch members, if
the partes of that vnited thing be corrupt and naught, the head
must needes bear the blot of the fault before referred to the
whole Body. Alas (sayd he sighing) what parte is more neare, and
dearer to Man, than that which is giuen vnto him for a Pledge
and Comfort duryng his Life, and which is conioyned to be bone
of his bone, and flesh of his flesh, to breath forth one Mynde,
and to think with one heart and equall wil. It is of the Wyfe
that I speake, who being the moytie of hir husband, ye ought not
to muse if I say, that the honoure of the one is the rest of the
other, and the one infamous and wycked, the other feeleth the
troubles of sutch mischiefe, and the Wife being carelesse of hir
honour, the husband’s reputation is defiled, and is not worthy
of prayse, if he suffer sutch shame vnreuenged: I must
(Companions and good friends) here dyscouer that whych my heart
would faine kepe secrete, if it were possible, and must rehearse
a thing vnto you, which so sone as my Mouth would faine kepe
close, the Minde assayeth to force the ouerture. And loth I am
to do it, were it not that I make so good accompt of you, as ye
being tied to me with an vnseparable Amity, will yeld me your
comfort and Ayde against him that hath done mee this Villany,
sutch as if I be not reuenged vpon, needes must I be the
Executioner of that vengeance vppon my selfe, that I am loth to
lyue in this dishonor, whych all the dayes of my life (without
due vltion) like a Worme wyll torment and gnaw my conscyence.
Wherefore before I goe any further, I woulde knowe whether I
myght so well trust your aide and succour in this my businesse,
as in all others I am assured you would not leaue mee so long as
any breath of life remained in you. For without sutch assurance,
I do not purpose to let you know the pricking naile that
pierceth my heart, nor the gryefe that grieueth me so neare,
as by vttering it without hope of help I shall open the Gate to
death, and dye without reliefe of my desire, by punishing him,
of whome I haue receyued an iniury more bloudy than any man can
doe.” The Souldiers whych loued the Captaine as theyr owne Lyfe,
were sorry to see him in sutch estate, and greater was theyr
dolour to heare wordes that tended to nothing else but to fury,
vengeaunce, and murder of hymselfe. Wherefore all wyth one
accorde promysed theyr helpe and mayne force towardes and
against all men for the bryngyng to passe of that whych hee dyd
meane to requyre. The Lieutenaunt assured of his Men conceyued
heart and Courage, and continuing his Oration and purpose,
determyned the slaughter and ouerthrowe of thre Trinicien
Brethren, (for that was the surname of the Lordes of Foligno,)
who pursued his Oration in this maner: “Know ye then
(my Companions and good Friends) that it is my Wife, by whome I
haue indured the hurt and losse of myne honour, and she is the
party touched, and I am he that am most offended. And to the
ende that I do not hold you longer in suspence, and the party be
concealed from you, whych hath don me thys Outrage: ye shall
vnderstand that Nicholas Trinicio, the elder of the three Lordes
of Folingno and Nocera, is he, that against all ryght and equity
hath suborned the Wife of his Lieuetenaunt, and soyled the Bed
of him, whereof he ought to haue ben the defender and the very
bulwarke of his reputation. It is of hym my good Fryends, and of
his that I meane to take sutch Vengeaunce, as eternall memory
shall display the same to all posterity: and neuer Lord shal
dare to doe a like wrong to mine, without remembraunce what his
duety is, which shall teach hym how to abuse the honest seruice
of a Gentleman that is one of his owne trayne. It resteth in you
both to holde vp your hand, and keepe your promise, to the end
that the Lord Nicholas, deceiuyng and mocking me, may not trust
and put affiance in your force, vnto whych I heartily do
recommend my selfe.” The Souldiers moued and incited with the
wickednesse of theyr Lord and with the wrong done to him, of
whom they receyued wages, swore agayne to serue his turne in any
exploit he went about, and requyred him to be assured, that the,
Trinicien Brethren should be ouerthrowne, and suffer deserued
penaunce, if they might lay hands vpon them, and therefore
willed him to seke meanes to allure them thither, that they
might be dispatched. The Lieuetenaunt at these words renuing a
chearefull Countenaunce, and shewing himself very ioyfull for
sutch successe after he had thanked his Souldyers, and very
louingly imbraced the chiefest of them, reuealed hys deuised
pollicy, and hoped shortly to haue them at his commaundement
within the Fort, alleaging that he had dispatched two Messengers
vnto them, and that his wife also priuily had sent hir page:
vnto whome he purposed to gyue so good a recompense, as neuer
more she should plant his hornes so hygh, vnder a colour of
gentle entertaynement of hir ribauld and Friend. They were
scarce resolued vpon this intent, but newes were brought him,
that the next day morning, the three lords accompanied with
other nobility would come to Nocera, to hunt that huge wylde
Bore, whereof the Lieutenaunt had made so greate auant. These
newes did not greatly please the Captaine, for so mutch as he
feared, that his purpose could not (conueniently) be brought to
passe, if the company were so great. But when he considered that
the Lords alone, should lodge within the Fort, he was of good
cheare again, and staied vpon his first intent. The Triniciens
the next day after came very late, bicause the Lord Berardo of
Verano duke of Camerino, desired to be one, and also the two
brethren taried for Conrade, who was at a mariage, and could not
assist the Tragedie that was played at Nocera, to his great hap
and profit. So this troupe came to Nocera late, and hauing
supped in the City, the Lord Nicholas, and the Duke of Camerino
went to Bed in the Fort, Cæsar the brother of Trinicio tarying
behind with the Trayne, to lodge in the city. Stay here a while
(ye Gentlemen) ye I say, that pursue the secrete stelths of
loue, neuer put any great trust in fortune, which seldome kepeth
hir promise with you. Ye had neede therfore to take goode heede,
least ye be surprysed in the place, wher priuily you giue the
assault, and in the acte wherein ye desire the assistance of
none. See the barbarous cruelty of a Lieutenant, which loued
rather to kill his corriual in his cold bloud, than otherwise to
be reuenged, when he saw him a bed with his Wife, purposely that
the example of his fury myght be the better knowne, and the
secret sclander more euident, from the roote whereof did spryng
an infinite number of Murders and mischiefs. About midnight
then, when all thinges were at rest vnder the darke silence of
the nyght, the Lieutenant came to the Chamber of the Lord
Nicholas, accompanied with the most part of the Watch, and
hauyng stopt vp the yeoman of hys Chaumber, hee so dressed the
Companion of hys Bedde, as for the first proofe of his
courtesie, he caused hys Membres and priuy partes to be cut of,
saying vnto him with cruell disdayne: “Thou shalt not henceforth
(wycked wretch) weld this launce into the rest, thereby to
batter the honour of an honester man than thy self.” Then
lanching his stomacke with a piercing blade, he tare the heart
out of his belly, saying: “Is this the trayterous Heart that
hath framed the plot and deuysed the enterprise of my shame,
to make this infamous villaine without Life, and his renoume
without prayse?” And not content with this Cruelty, he wreakt
the like vpon the remnaunt of his body, that sometimes the
runnagate Medea did vpon hir innocent brother, to saue the Lyfe
of hir selfe, and of hir friend Iason. For she cut him into an
hundred thousand pieces, gyuing to euery Membre of the poore
murdred soule hir word of mockery and contempt. Was it not
sufficient for a tirannous husband to be reuenged of hys shame,
and to kill the party which had defamed him, without vsing so
furious Anotamie vpon a dead body, and wherein there was no
longer feeling? But what? Ire beyng wythout measure, and anger
wythout Brydle or reason, it is not to be wondred, if in al his
actes the Captayne ouerpassed the iust measure of vengeance.
Many would thinke the committed murder vppon Nicholas, to be
good and iust: but the Iustice of an offense, ought not so longe
time to be conceyled, but rather to make him feele the smart at
the very tyme the deed is done, to the ende that the nypping
gryefe of pestilent treason wrought against the betrayed party,
be not obscured and hydden by sodayne rage and lacke of reason
rising in the mindes first motions, and thereby also the faulte
of the guilty, by hys indiscretion couered: otherwyse there is
nothyng that can colour sutch vice. For the law indifferently
doth punish euery man, that without the Magistrates order taketh
authority to venge his own wrong. But come we againe vnto our
purpose. The Captayne all imbrued in bloude, entred the Chaumber
of the Duke of Camerino, whom with al the rest of the strangers
that were wythin the Castle, hee lodged (without speakynge any
worde) in a deepe and obscure pryson. Beholde, what reste they
tooke that nyghte, whych were come to hunt the Wylde Boare. For
wythout trauaylyng farre, they were intrapped in the subtill
engines and Nettes of the furious Lieuetenaunte, who when the
morning bedecked with hir vermilion cleare began to shewe hir
selfe, when all the Hunters dyd put them selues in readynesse,
and coupled vp theyr Dogges to marche into the Fielde, beholde,
one of the Captayne’s cruell Ministers wente into the City,
to cause the Lord Cæsar to come and speake with hys brother
Nicholas, and intreated him not to tarry, for that he and the
Duke were dysposed to shewe hym some disport. Cæsar whych neuer
suspected the least of these chaunced murders, desired not to be
prayed agayne, but made haste to the Butcherie like a lamb, and
in the company of the Wolues themselues that were in readynesse
to kyll hym. He was no sooner in the Court of the Castle, but
seuen or eyght Varlets apprehended hym and hys Men, and carryed
hym into the Chaumber (bound lyke a thefe) wherin the Membres of
hys Myserable Brother were cut of and dispersed, whose corpse
was pitifully gored and arrayed in Bloud. If Cæsar were abashed
to see himselfe bound and taken prysoner he was more astonned
when he perceyued a body so dysmembred, and which as yet he
knewe not. “Alas,” (sayd he) “what sighte is this? Is thys the
bore whych thou hast caused vs to come hyther to hunt within our
very Fort?” The Captayne rising vp, al imbrued wyth bloud, whose
face and voyce promised nothing but Murder to the miserable
young Gentleman sayd: “See Cæsar, the Body of thine adulterous
brother Nicholas, that infamous whoremonger, and marke if this
be not his head: I woulde to God that Conrade were here also
that ye might all three be placed at this sumptuous Banket,
which I haue prepared for you. I sweare vnto thee then, that
this should be the last day of all the Trinicien race, and the
end of your Tirannies and wicked Life. But sith I cannot get the
effect of that whych my heart desireth, my minde shal take
repast in the triumph which Fortune hath ordeined. Curssed be
the mariage and Wedding at Trevio, that hath hyndred me of an
occasion so apte, and of the meanes to dispatch a matter of
sutch importance as is the ouerthrow of so many tirants.” Cæsar
at this sentence stode so stil, as whilom dyd the wyfe of Loth,
by seing the City on fire, and consume into ashes: by the sight
whereof she was conuerted into a stone of Salt. For when he sawe
that bloudy Pageant, and knew that it was his brother Nicholas,
pity and feare so stopt the pipes of his speach, as without
complayning himself or framing one word, he suffred his throte
to be cut by the barbarous captaine, who threw him halfe dead
vpon the corps of his brother, that the bloud of either of them
might cry vp to the heauens for so loud vengeance as that of
Abel dyd, being slain by the treason of his nearest brother.
Beholde the dreadful begynnings of a heart rapt in fury, and of
the mind of him that not resisting his fond affections, executed
the terrible practizes of his owne braine, and preferring his
fantasie aboue reason, deuised sutch ruine and decay, as by
these Examples the Posteritye shall haue good cause to wonder.
The lyke Cruelty vsed Tiphon towards his brother Osyris by
chopping his body in xxvi. gobbets, whereby ensued the decay of
him and his, by Orus whome some doe surname Appollo. And troweth
the Captayne to loke for lesse mercy of the Brother of the other
twayne that were murdered and of the Dukes kindred whome he kept
Prysoner? But he was so blynded with Fury, and it may be, led by
ambition and desyre to be made Lord of Nocera, that he was not
contented to venge his shame on hym whych had offended, but
assayed to murder and extinguysh all the Trinicien bloud: the
enheritaunce only remaining in them. And to come to the end of
his Enterprise, this Italyan Nero, not content wyth these so
many slaughters, but thereunto adioyned a new Treason assaying
to win the Citizens of Nocera to moue rebellion agaynst their
Lord, causing them to assemble before the Forte, vnto whome
vppon the Walles, he vsed this or like Oration: “I haue hitherto
(my Maisters) dissembled the lyttle pleasure that my heart hath
felt to see so many true and faithful Citizens, subiecte vnder
the wyll and unbrydeled lustes of two or three Tyraunts: who
hauing gotten Power and authority ouer vs, more through our owne
folly and cowardyse, than by valiance, vertue and iustice,
either in them or those which haue dispoyled this countrey of
their auncient liberty. I will not deny but pryncipalities of
longe entraunce and Foundation deryued by succession of
inherytaunce, haue had some spyce and kynde of Equity, and that
Lordes of good lyfe and conuersation ought to be obeyed,
defended and honored. But where inuasion and seasure is against
ryght, where the people is spoyled and Lawes violated, it is no
conscience to disobey and abolish sutch monsters of nature. The
Romanes in the prime age of their Common Wealth ful wel declared
the same, when they banished out of their City that proud race
of the Tirant Tarquine, and when they went about to exterminate
al the rootes of cruelty and tyrannical power. Our Neighbors the
Sicillians once dyd the like vnder the conduct of Dion, against
the disruled fury and wilful cruelty of Denis the tyrant of
Syracusa, and the Atheniens against the Chyldren of Pisistratus.
And ye that be sorted from the stocke of those Samnites, which
in times past so long heald vp their Heades against the Romane
force, will ye be so very cowardes and weake hearted for respect
of the title of your seigniorie as ye dare not with me to
attempt a valiant enterprise for reducing your selues into
libertye, and to expell that vermyne broode of Tyraunts which
swarme through out the whole regyon of Italy. Wyll yee bee so
mated and dumped, as the shadow alone of a fond and inconstant
young man, shall holde your Nose to the Grindstone, and drawe
you at his lust lyke an Oxe into the stall? I feare that if ye
saw your Wiues and Daughters haled to the passetyme and pleasure
of these Tirauntes, to glutte the whoredome of those styncking
Goate Bucks, more Lecherous and filthy than the senseles
sparrowes: I feare (I say) that ye durst not make one Sygne for
demonstratyon of your Wrath and dyspleasure. No, no (my maysters
of Nocera,) it is hyghe tyme to cutte of the Hydra hys heads,
and to strangle hym wythin hys Caue. The tyme is come (I say)
wherein it behoueth you to shewe your selues lyke Men, and no
longer to dissemble the case that toucheth you so neare.
Consyder whether it bee good to follow myne aduyse, to repossede
agayne the thyng whych is your owne, (that is) the Freedome
wherein your Auncesters gloryfied so mutch, and for which they
feared not to hazarde theyr Goodes and Lyues. It wyll come good
cheape, if you be ruled by me, it wyll redound to your treble
Fame, if lyke Men ye follow my aduyse, whych I hope to let you
shortely see wythout any great peryll or losse of your Citizens
Bloud. I haue felt the effect of the Trinicien Tirannye, and the
rigor of their vnrighteous gouernment, which hauing begonne in
me, they will not faile, if they be not chastised in time, to
extend on you also, whome they deeme to be their slaues. In lyke
manner I haue first begon to represse their boldnesse, and to
wythstande their leud behauior: yea and if you Mynde to
vnderstande ryght from wrong, an easy matter it will be to
perfourme the rest, the time beinge so commodious, and the
discouery of the thinge whereof I haue made you so priuy, so
conuenient. And know ye, that for the exploit of mine intent,
and to bryng you agayne altogether in Liberty, I haue taken the
two Lords Nicholas and Cæsar prysonners, attending till fortune
do bryng to me the third, to pay him with like money and equals
guerdon, that not onely you may bee free and setled in your
auncient priuiledge, but my heart also satisfied of the wrong
which I haue receiued by their iniustice. Beleue (Maisters) that
the thing whych I haue done: was not wythoute open iniury
receiued, as by keepyng it close I burst, and by telling the
same I am ashamed. I wil kepe it secrete, notwithstanding, and
shal pray you to take heede vnto your selues, that by vniuersal
consent, the mischiefe may be preuented. Deuise what answer you
wyll make me, to the intent that I by following your aduise, may
also be resolued vpon that I haue to do, without Preiudice but
to them to whome the case doth chyefly appertayne.” Duryng al
this discourse, the wycked Captayne kept close the Murder which
hee had committed, to drawe the Worme out of the Nocerines Nose,
and to see of what Mynde they were, that vppon the intellygence
thereof, he myght woorke and follow the tyme accordyngly. Hee
that had seene the Cytizens of Nocera after that sedytious
Oration, would haue thought that he had heard a murmure of Bees,
when issuing forth their Hyues, they light amidst a pleasaunt
Herber, adorned and beautyfied with diuers coloured floures. For
the people flocked and assembled togythers, and began to grudge
at the imprysonment of ther Lord, and the treason committed by
the Lieuetenaunte, thynking it very straunge that he which was a
houshold seruaunt durst be so bold to sease on those to whome he
dyd owe all honour and Reuerence. And do assure you that if he
had ben below, as he was vpon the rampire of the Walles, they
had torne him into so many pieces, as he had made Gobbets of the
Lord Nicholas body. But seing that they could not take him, they
went about to seeke the deliueraunce of them, whome they thought
to be yet aliue: and one of the chyef of the City in the Name of
them all shortly and bryefly, aunswered him thus: “If malice did
not well discouer it selfe in the sugred and Traiterous
composition of thy woordes (O Captayne) it were easy inough for
an inconstant People (bent to chaunge, and desirous of
innouations,) to heare and do that, which sutch a traitor and
flatterer as thou art dost propose: but we hauing til now
indured nothing of the Triniciens that sauoreth of Tiranny,
cruelty, or excesse, we were no lesse to be accused of felony,
than thou art guilty of Rebels cryme, by seasyng vpon the
Persons of thy Lords, if we shoulde yelde credyt to thy Serpents
hissing, or lend aide to thy traiterous practise, thou goest
about against them who innoblyng thee are trayterously berieued
of that which concerned their reputation and greatnesse. We be
an honest People and faithfull Subiects. We wyll not be both
Wicked and vnhappy at once, and without cause expell our heads
out of our common Wealth. No though they should perpetrate the
mischiefes whych thou hast alleadged. Vppon sutch Nouelties and
straunge facts we shall take newe aduise and Councell. To be
short, thou shalt pleasure vs to set our Lordes at Lyberty, and
thou like a wyse man shalt doe thy duety, and satisfy a People
which easily can not endure that a subiecte do wrong to those to
whome he oweth obedience. And feare not to receiue anye euill of
them, nor yet to feele anoyaunce, for wee wyll take vppon vs by
honest meanes to craue pardon for thy fault how haynous so euer
it be. But if thou continue thine offence, be sure that the Lord
Conrade shall be aduertised, and with all our power we shall
succour him by force, to let thee feele the Nature of Treason,
and what reward is incydent to the practizers of the same.” The
Captaine albeit he was abashed with that aunswere, and saw that
it would not be wel wyth him if he did not prouid spedy remedy
and order for his affayres, aswell for the comming of the Lord
Conrade, as of the brother of the Duke Camerino, told the
Citizens that within three or foure dayes he would giue them a
resolute aunswer, and so it might be, yelde vnto theyr wylles,
and delyuer them whom he had in holde. Thys gentle aunswere dyd
nothyng stay the Citizens for the accomplyshment of that which
they thought best to do, knowing also that the gallant had not
commenced that Tragedy, but for other toyes whych his vngracious
head had framed for a further intended Myschiefe, for which
cause they assembled their Councell, and concluded that one
should ryde in poste to the Lord Conrade, (the third and
remnaunt of the Brethren,) that hee myghte come to take order
for the delyueraunce of Nicholas and Cæsar whome they thought he
had reserued still alyue in Captiuity. The Nocerines shewed this
curtesie (not but that they woulde gladly haue bene at lyberty,
if the way had bene better troden,) aswell for the lyttle trust
they reposed in the Captayne, who they thoughte would be no more
gentle and faithfull, than he shewed himselfe to be loyall to
his Maisters, and for that Conrade was well beloued of the
Lordes his Neighbors, and specially of the imprysoned Duke and
his Brother Braccio Montone, who had the Italian men of Warre at
his pleasure, and that the Noble men woulde assiste him wyth all
their power. Wherefore they considered that theyr fairest and
best way, for auoiding of factions, was to kepe themselues
trusty and true, and by not hearkening to a Traitor, to bynd
their soueraigne Lord with sutch duety and obedience, as the
vnkindest man of the world would confesse and acknowledg for the
consequence of a matter of sutch importance. The seditious
captaine on the other side, void of hope, and in greater rage
than hee was before, persisted in hys folly, not without
foreseeyng howe hee myghte saue himselfe, which hee had
pollitikely brought to passe, if God had not shortened his waye,
by payment of Vsury for hys Wyckednesse, and by very dilygence
of them in whome hee reposed his truste, the manner and howe,
immedyately doeth follow. So soone as he had gyuen ouer the
Councell of the Citizens and a lyttle bethought him what he had
to do, he called before him two yong Men, whom aboue al others
he trusted best. To these yong men he deliuered all his Gold,
Syluer and Iewels, that they mighte conuey the same out of the
iurisdiction of his Lords, to the intente that when he saw
hymself in daunger, he myght retire to the place where those
gallants had before carryed his furniture, and mountinge them
vpon two good steedes, he let them forth at the Posterne gate,
praying them so soone as they could to retourne aduertysement of
their abode, and that spedily he would send after them hys
Chyldren and the rest of his moueables, tellyng them that he
specially committed his Lyfe and goodes into their hands, and
that in time and place he would acknowledg the Benefite don vnto
him in that distresse. The two that were thus put in trust for
sauegard of hys thyngs, promised vnto him Golden Hilles and
Miracles: but so soone as they had lost the sight of theyr
maister, they deuised another complotte and determined to breake
faith to him, which was forsworne, and who made no conscience
not onely to reuolt, but also cruelly to kill his soueraigne
Lordes. They thought it better to ryde to Treuio, to tell the
Lord Conrade the pitifull end of his brethren, and the
imprysonment of the Duke of Camerino, than to seeke rest for
him, whome God permitted not to be saued, for his heinous sinne
already committed, and for that which he mente to do vppon hys
Wyfe. For all the dyligence that the Nocerines had made, yet
were the Lieuetenaunte’s Men at Treuio before them, and hauyng
filled the Eares of Conrade with those heauy Newes, and hys Eyes
with Teares, his Mynde with sorrow, and Spyrite with desyre to
be reuenged, and as Conrade was about to mount on horse backe
wyth the Trayne hee had, the Citizens were arryued to disclose
the Imprysonment of his brethren. To whome Conrade made
aunswere: “I would to GOD (my friends) that the tirant had ben
contented with the litle cruelty wherof you speake, for then I
would find the meanes to agree the parties vpon the knowledge of
their variance. But (alas) his malice hath passed further, and
hath beastly slain my brethren: but I swear by the almighty God,
that if he giue me life, I wil take sutch, and so cruell
vengeaunce on him, as he shall be a Glasse to all his lyke, for
punishment of a fault so horrible. Depart my frends, depart and
get you home, dispose your watch and gard about the Castell,
that the traiter do not escape: and assure your selues that this
your loue shall neuer be forgotten, and you shall haue of me not
a Tirant as he maliciously hath protested, but rather sutch a
Lord, and better also, than hytherto ye haue me proued.” If
Conrade had not ben pressed with heauinesse, he had chaunted
goodly Songes against the Treason of the Lieuetenaunt, and would
haue accused his Brother of indiscretion, for trusting him,
whose wyfe hee had abused, and wel did know that he espyed the
same. But what? The businesse requyred other things than Words:
and extreame folly it is to nippe the Dead with taunts, or with
vayne words to abuse the absent, speciall where vltion and
reuenge is easy, and the meanes manifest to chastise the
temerity of sutch, and to be acquited of the wrong done vnto him
that cannot do it hymselfe. Conrade then toke his way to
Tuderto, where then remained the Lord Braccio, and thereof was
Lord and Gouernour, and had also vnder his gouernement Perugia,
and many other Cityes of the Romane Church, and who wyth the
dignity of the great Constable of Naples, was also Prynce of
Capua, to him the Trinicien Brother, all be sprent wyth Teares
and transported wyth choller and griefe, came to demaunde succor
for reuenge of the Lieuetenaunt’s trespasse, saying: “For what
assurance (my Lord) can Prynces and great Lordes hope
henceforth, when their very seruaunts shall ryse, and by
constraining their Maisters, make assay to vsurp their
seigniories wherein they haue no title or interest? Is this a
reuenge of wrong, in steede of one to kill twaine, and yet to
wishe for the third to dispatch the World of our race? Is this
to pursue his ennimy, to seeke to catch hym in trappe, whych
knoweth nothing of the quarell, and to make hym to suffer the
payne? My two Brethren be dead, our Cosin Germaine the Duke is
in pryson, I am heere comfortlesse, all sad and pensife before
you, whome lykewyse this matter toucheth, although not so near
as it doeth me, but yet with lyke dishonor. Let vs go (my Lorde)
let vs goe I beseech you to visite our good hoste that so rudely
intreateth his Ghests which come to visite him, and let vs beare
him a reward, that he may taste of our comming, let vs goe
before hee saue himselfe, that with little trauayle and lesse
harme to an other the ribauld may be punished, who by his
example if he longer liue, may increase courage both in
Seruaunts to disobey, and in Subiects to rebell, without
conscience, agaynst their heads, and gouerners? It is a case of
very great importaunce, and which ought to be followed with all
rigor and cruelty. And he ought neuer to bee supported,
comforted or fauored, which shall by any meanes attempt to
reuolt or arme himselfe agaynst his Prince, or shall constrayne
him or hir that is his Soueraygne Lord, or Mistresse. Is not a
Prynce constituted of GOD to be obeyed, loued, and cherished of
his Subiects? Is it not in him to make and ordaine lawes, sutch
as shalbe thought needefull and necessary for Common wealth?
Ought not he then to be obeyed of his subiectes and vassals?
Ought they then to teach the head, and commaund the chiefest
Member of their body? I do remember a tale (my Lord) recited by
Menenius Agrippa that wyse, and Notable Romayne, who going about
to reconcile the commons with the Senate, alleaged a fit and
conuenable example. In time past (quod he) when the partes of
Mankinde were at variaunce, and euery member would be a Lord
generally conspiring, grudging and alleaging how by their great
trauayle, paynes, and carefull ministery, they prouided all
furniture, and mayntenaunce for the belly, and that he like a
sluggish Beast stoode still, and enioyed sutch pleasures as were
geuen him, in this murmure and mutine, al they agreed that the
hands should not minister, the Mouth should not feede, the Teeth
should not make it seruiceable, the Feete should not trauayle,
nor Heade deuise to get the same: and whylest euery of them did
forsake their seruice and obedience, the belly grew so thin, and
the Members so weake and feeble, as the whole body was brought
to extreme decay, and ruine, whereby (sayd Agrippa) it appeareth
that the seruice due vnto the Belly (as the chiefe portion of
man) by the other Members is most necessary, the obeying and
nurssing of whom doth instil force and vigor into the other
parts through which we doe liue, and bee refreshed, and the same
disgested and dispearsed into the vaynes, and vitall powers
ingendreth mature and fine bloud, and mayntaineth the whole
state of the body, in comely forme and order. By which trim
comparison, applyed to ciuile warre was deflected and mollified
the stout corage and attempts of the multitude. Euen so agreing
with Agrippa, if the Members grudge, and disobey against their
chiefe, the state must grow to ruine. To be short, in certaine
haps a Trayter may be chearished, and that hath falsified his
first fayth: but treason and periury euermore be detested as
vices execrable. In this deede neyther the thing, nor yet the
doer hath any colour of excuse, the trespasse and cause for
which it is don being considered. Suffiseth it Sir, for so mutch
as there is neyther time nor cause of further discourse, what
neede we to decide the matter, whych of it selfe is euident?
Beholde mee heere a poore Trinician Brother without brethren,
ioylesse without a Fort at Nocera. On the other part confider
the Duke of Camerino in great distresse and daunger, to passe
that strait of death my Brethren did. Let vs goe (I pray you) to
deliuer the Captiue, and by reuenging these offenses and
murders, to settle my Citty in former State, and freedome, which
the villayne goeth about to take from me, by encouraginge my
Subiects to reuolt and enter armes, thereby to expel our house
from the Title of the same.” As Conrade spake these woords, and
wyth great grauity, and constancy pronouncing sundry tokens of
sorrow, the Conestable of Naples, wroth beyond measure for these
vnpleasant newes, and full of griefe and choller against the
trayterous Lieutenaunt, swore in the hearing of them all, that
he would neuer rest one good sleepe vntill that quarell were
auenged, and had quited the outrage done to the Lord Conrade,
and the wrong which he felt in him for the imprisonment of the
Duke of Camerino. So he concluded, and the Souldiours were
assembled thorough out all the parts of the Conestable’s Lands,
vpon the ende of the weeke to march against the Fort of Nocera,
the Cittizens whereof had layd diligent Scout, and watch for the
escape of the Captayne, who without bashfulnesse determined with
his men to defend the same and to proue fortune, making himselfe
beleeue that his quarell was good, and cause iust to withstand
them that shoulde haue the heart to come to assayle him. The
Constable in the mean time sent a Trumpet to Nocera to summon
the Captaine to surrender, and to tell the cause of his reuolt,
and at whose prouocation hee had committed so detestable a
Treason. The Captaine well assured and boldned in his
Wyckednesse, aunswered that he was not so well fortified to make
a surrender so good cheape, and for so small a pryce to forgo
his honor and reputation: and furthermore, that his wit was not
so slender, but hee durst deuise and attempt sutch a matter
without the councel of any other, and that all the deedes and
deuises passed till that time, were of his owne inuention. And
to be enen with the wrong done to his honor by the Lord Nicholas
Trinicio, for the violation of his Wiue’s Chastity, he had
committed the Murders (tolde to Braccio) beyng angry, that all
the Tirannous race was not in his hand to spyll, to the end he
mighte deliuer his Countrey, and put the Citizens in Liberty,
albeit that fondly they bad refused the same as vnworthy of
sutch a Benefite, and well deserued that the Tyrants should taxe
them at theyr pleasure, and make them also theyr common slaues
and Drudges. The Trumpet warned hym also to render to hym the
Duke, bicause he was guiltlesse of the facte, whych the Captayne
regarded so little as he did the first demaundes, whych was the
cause (the Company being arriued at Nocera, and the Constable
vnderstandyng the litle accompte the Castell Gentleman made of
his summons) that the battry the very day of theyr arriuall was
laid and shotte against the place with sutch thunder and
dreadfull thumpes of Canon shot, as the hardiest of the
Mortpayes within, began to faint. But the corage and litle feare
of theyr chyefe, retired theyr hearts into theyr bellyes. The
breach being made againe, the Constable who feared to lose the
Duke in the Captaine’s Fury, caused the Trumpet to summon them
wythin to fall to Composition, that Bloudshed might not stirre
theyr Souldioures to further cruelty. But so mutch gayned this
second warnyng as the first, for which cause the nexte day after
the assault was gyuen, where if the assaulte was valiant, the
resistaunce was no lesse than bolde and venturous. But what can
Thirtie or Fortie Men doe agaynste the Force of a whole
Countrey, and where the Generall was one of the most valiaunte,
and wisest Captaynes of hys tyme and who was accompanied with
the floure of the Neapolitane Fotemen. The assault continued
four or fiue Houres, but in the end the Dead payes not able to
sustayne the force of the assaylants, forsooke the Breache, and
assaying to saue themselues, the Lieuetenaunt retired to the
Kipe of the Fort, where his Wife continued prisoner, from the
time that the two brethren were slaine. Whiles they without,
ruffled in together in heapes amonges the defendauntes, the Duke
of Camerino, with his Men, found meanes to escape out of Pryson,
and therewithal began furiously to chastise the ministers of the
disloyal Captaine, which in little tyme were cut al to pieces.
Conrade being within found the Captayn’s Father, vppon whom he
was reuenged, and killed him with his owne hands. And not
content with that, caried into further rage, and fury, he
slashed him into gobbets, and threwe them to the dogs. Truly a
straunge maner of reuenge, if the Captain’s cruelty had not
attempted like inhumanity. To bee shorte, horrible it is to
repeate the murders done in that sturre, and hurly burly. For
they that were of the Captayne’s part, and taken, receyued all
the straungest and cruellest punishment that man could deuise.
And were it not that I haue a desire in nothing to beely the
Author, and lesse will to leaue that which he had wrytten vpon
the miserable end of those that were the ministers and seruaunts
to the barbarous tirrany of the Captayne, I would passe no
further, but conceale that which doth not deserue remembraunce,
except to auoide the example, which is not straunge, the Cruelty
of reuenging heart in the nature of Man, in al times growinge to
sutch audacity, as the torments which seeme incredyble, be
lyable to credite as wel for those we reade in auncient
Historyes, as those we heare tell of by heare say, and chauncyng
in our tyme. Hee that had the vpper hand of his Enimy, not
content to kyll, but to eate with his rauenous teeth the heart
disentraylde from his aduersary, was hee lesse furious than
Conrade, by makinge Anatomy of the Captayn’s Father? And he that
thrust Galleazze Fogase in to the mouth of a Canon, tying his
Head vnto his Knees and causing him to be caried by the violent
force of Gunpouder into the City from whence he came, to bribe
and corrupt certayne of hys enemies army, did he shew himselfe
to be more curteous than one of these? Leaue we a part those
that be past, to touch the miserable ende wherewith Conrade
caused the last tribute of the Captain’s souldyers to bee payd.
Now amongs these some were tied to the Tayles of wilde Horses,
and trayned ouer Hedges, and Bushes, and downe the stiepnes of
high Rocks, some were haled in pieces, and afterwards burnt with
great Martyrdome, some were deuyded and parted aliue in four
quarters, other sowed naked wythin an Oxe Hyde, and so buried in
Earth, vp to the Chin, by whych torments they finished their
Liues with fearful gronings. Will ye say that the Bull of
Perillus, or Diomedes Horsses, were afflictions more cruell than
these? I know not what ye cal cruelty, if these acts may beare
the title of modesty. But all thys, proceeded of wrath and
disdayne of eyther partes. The one dysdayned that the seruaunt
should be his head, and the other was offended, that his
soueraygne Lord should assay to take that from him, which his
duty commaunded him to keepe. Conrade toke in ill part the
treason of the Captayn, who beyond measure was angry, that the
Lord Nicholas had made him a brother of Vulcan’s order, and
regestred him in the booke of husbands, which know that they
dare not speake. In summe, the one had right, and the other was
not without some reason, and notwithstanding both surmounted the
boundes of man’s milde nature. The one ought to content hymselfe
(as I haue sayd) for being reuenged on him that had offended
him, and the other of the murder done, duringe the assault
without shewing so bloudy tokens of cruelty and so apparent
euidence of tiranny, vpon the ministers of the brutall and
bloudy Captayne, who seeing his father put to death with sutch
Martirdome, and his men so straungely tormented, was vanquished
with choller, dispayre and impacyence. And albeit the Captayne
had no greate desire to hurt his Wyfe, yet was he surmounted
with sutch rage, as apprehending hir, and binding hir hands and
feete, she styl crying him mercy, and crauing pardon for hir
faultes at the hands of God and him, he threw hir downe from the
highest Toure of the Kipe vpon the pauement of the Castle
courte, not without teares and abashment of al, which saw that
monstrous and dreadful sight, which the Souldiers viewing, they
fired the Toure, and with fire and smoke forced the Captaine to
come forth, and by lyke meanes made him, his Brother and
Chyldren to tread the daunce that his Wyfe before had don.
Conrade by and by caused those bodies to be throwne forth for
Foode to the Wolues, and other raueninge Beasts, and Byrdes