in the Citie, was comparable to her in vertue and behauiour. For from her tender yeares, she was not onely giuen to her nedle (a meete exercise for mayds of her degre,) but also was trayned vp to write and reade, wherein she toke so greate pleasure, as ordinarilie shee caried a booke in her hande, which she neuer gaue ouer, till she had gathered som fruit thereof. This knight hauing receyued that first impression, of the valor and vertue of Violenta (for that was her name) was further in loue then before: and that which added more oile to the matche, was the continuall lookes, wherewith she knew how to delighte him: and wyth them shee was so liberall, that so oft as he passed through the streate she shot them forth so cruelly, as his poore hart (feeling it selfe so tormented) could not indure that new onset. By reason whereof, thincking to quench the fire, that by litle and litle consumed him, he attempted her chastity, with giftes, letters, and messengers, which he continued the space of halfe a yeare or more. Whereunto Violenta geuing no place, in the ende hee was constrayned to assayle her with his owne presence: and one daye finding her alone at the doore, after he had made a verye humble reuerence vnto her, he sayde: "Maistresse Violenta, considering your order and the colde regard that you haue to my letters and messages, I do remember the subtiltye that is attributed to the Serpente, who with his taile stoppeth his eares, because he will not heare the words, which hath power to constraine him to do against his wil, which hath made me to leaue to write vnto you, and to desire specially to speake vnto you, that mine affectuous accentes, my sorowful words and feruent sighes mighte certifie you better then paper, the rest of my passion, beleuing verely, that if the heauy sound of my greuous complaints, may come to your delicate eares, they will make you to vnderstand a part of that good and euill, which I feele continually in my harte, although the loue which I beare you, be such as I cannot giue such liuely experience outwardly, being but litle in comparison of them, which may be seene within." And pronouncing those words, there followed so many teares, sobbes and sighes, as they gaue sufficient testimony, that his tongue was the true and faithfull messenger of his hart. Whereof Violenta some what ashamed, with a constante grace said vnto him: "Senior Didaco, if you do yet remember your life past, and mine honesty (which peraduenture you haue thought either rude or cruell) I doubt not, that you haue any cause to maruaile of my presumption and to attribute that to vice, which is familiar with vertue. For although that you haue sollicited mee to loue you, by an infinite nomber of letters and messages, yet it is so, that following the nature of maydes of my degree, I haue neither allowed them, nor yet condempned them, as wherunto accordingly I haue made no aunswere: not for despite or contempt, but to let you know more certainly, that by fauouring your enterprises, I should increase your griefe, which can receiue none ende by the waye you pretende. For although that I haue made the firste proofe vpon my selfe, and therefore of reason I ought to lamente them, whiche be in semblable paine, yet I will not let slippe the bridle in suche wise to my passion, that mine honestie shall remain in an other man's power, and (so it may be) at the mercie and curtesie of them, who not knowing howe dere it is to me, shall thinke they haue made a pretie conquest. And that I maye haue no cause to repent to late, I haue stopped mine eares for feare, that I be not arested and stayed with the violence of your charmes, a thing as you say proper to Serpentes. But I haue fortefied my harte, and so armed my inwarde minde, as if God continue that grace in me, which hitherto he hath done, I hope not to be surprised. Although that I must needes confesse (to my shame) that I haue receiued marueilous assaultes of loue, not onely for the common renowme of your vertues, and through the curtesie and gentlenesse dayly imparted to me by your letters, but specially by your presence, whiche hath yelded vnto me experience and assuraunce of that, whiche all the letters of the world could not do, nor all other messages were not able to conceiue. And to the ende that I may not be vtterly ingrate, and that you doe not departe from me, altogether miscontent, I doe promise you nowe that from henceforth, you shall inioye the first place of my harte, whereunto another shall neuer enter: if so be you can be content with honest amitie, wherein you shall finde me in time to come so liberall, in all that whiche honestie shall permitte, that I am contente to forgoe the name of a presumptuous or cruell Damosell for your sake. But if you meane to abuse me, or hope for anye thing of me, contrarie to mine honour, you be meruailously deceiued. Wherefore if you thinke your worthinesse to great to cary away a recompence so small, you shall doe very wel both for me and yourselfe, in forgetting that is past, to cut of all hope in time to come." And she thinking to prolonge a further discourse, the mother of Violenta which stil stode at the wyndowe al the time that Senior Didaco was with her doughter, came downe to the doore, interrupting their talke, saide to Didaco: "Sir, I suppose you take great pleasure in the follie of my doughter, because you tarie and abide here, rather to contriue your tyme, then for any other contentacion you can receiue. For she is so euill taught, and of suche rude behauiour, that her demeanour will rather trouble you, than geue you cause of delight." "Maistresse," said Didaco, "although in the beginning I purposed not to tary so long, yet when I entered in more familiar acquaintaunce and had well experienced her good graces, I confesse that I haue staied here longer then I thought. And were hee neuer so great a Lorde, that liueth at this daie, I dare auouche that he might thinke his tyme well spente, in hearing suche sober and honest talke, wherewith I thinke my selfe so well satisfied and instructed, as all the daies of my life I wyll witnesse, that vertue, curtesie, and sober behauiour is to bee founde, as well in meane degrees and houses, as in them that be right noble, amonges which meane families, although she be one (it maye so be) that one more illustre and noble, can not bee more excellente, and accomplished with better manners, then she: whiche is nowe well manifested to me in this little discourse." And after certaine other common talke, Didaco took his leaue, and went home to his house, where hee lyued fourtene or fiftene monethes without any reste, assaying by all meanes to mortifie his desires, but it auayled not: For although he was ryche, a trymme Courtiar, and an eloquent gentleman, and had opportunitie to speake vnto her many times, and she gentle enough to heare him, and to vnderstande his errantes, and was assured by frendes that she for her part was also in loue, yet he was not able by humane arte and pollicie, to conuerte her to his mynde. Wherewithall hee was long tyme molested, and at lengthe pressed with griefe and annoyance, hee was aduised to sende sixe hundred ducates to the mother, for a reliefe to the mariage of her doughter, promising besides, that he would assigne her an honest dowrie, when she found a man worthy to be her husbande: vppon condicion that she would yelde to him some comforte, to ease his affection. But shee whiche could not be wonne with loue, was not able to be recouered with money: and was offended that Senior Didaco had forgotten himselfe so farre as to thinke to gaine that for money, which with so great paine, teares and sighes, had bene denied him. And to make him vnderstande howe she was offended, shee sent woorde by him that brought her the money, that he should goe and proue hereafter to deceiue them that measured their honour with the price of profite, and not to sette trappes to deceiue other that would buye nothing hurtfull to vertue. And after Didaco was aduertised of her minde, and perceiued that he lost time in all his enterprises, and was able no longer to susteine his extreme paine and sorowe, whiche daily augmented, and when hee had debated in his minde all the successe of his loue, he resolued in the end vpon that which he thought moste profitable for his quiet, whiche was to marye her. And although she was of no suche house, and yet lesse indowed with substaunce, as he deserued, yet her beautie and vertue, and other giftes of grace, wherewith she was inriched, made her worthie of a great lorde. And resolued vpon this, hee repaired to Violenta, to whom he said: "Maistresse Violenta, if the true touchstone to knowe them that be perfecte louers (amonges other) is mariage, certainly you haue gotten a husbande of me, if it please you to accepte me for suche one, whom in time you shall make to vnderstande the difference betweene goodes and vertue, and betweene honestie and richesse." Violenta then rauished with ioye, and incredible contentation, somewhat abashed, sayd vnto him: "Senior Didaco, I knowe not whether you pretende by woordes to proue my constancie, or els to bring me into fooles paradise: but of one thing I can assure you, that although I acknowledge my selfe inferiour to you in merites, goodes and vertue, yet if that come to passe which you promise, I will not geue place to you in loue, trusting if God sende us life together, you shall well vnderstande one daye that you would not exchaunge my persone for a greater Ladie, what so euer she be." For confirmation whereof, Didaco plucked from his finger an Emeralde of great value, which (when he had kissed her) he gaue vnto her in the waye of mariage, praying her that she would not disclose it for a certaine time, vntill he him selfe had made all his frendes priuie vnto it. Notwithstanding, he willed her to imparte the same to her twoo brethren, and to her mother, and he would get some Priest of the countrie to solempnize the mariage within their house: which was doen in a chamber, about fower of the clocke in the morning, being onely present the mother, the brethren, the Prieste, and a seruaunt of the house, brought vp there from her youthe, and his own man, without making any other preparation of coste, requisite for suche a matter. In this sorte they spent the day in great ioye and mirthe (which they can conceiue, that be of base birth, and exalted to some highe degree of honour) till night was come, and then euery man withdrewe them selues, leauing the bride and her husbande to the mercie of loue, and order of the night. Who being alone receiued equal ioye, and like contentation, which they fele that being pressed with ardent and greuous thirste, doe in the ende afterwardes with liuely ioye, and all kinde of libertie, quenche that cruell discommoditie. And continued in those pleasures till morning, that daye began to appeare, to whome Violenta saide: "My honourable Lorde and dere husbande, sithe that you be nowe in possession of that which you haue so greatly desired, I humbly beseeche you, to consider for the time to come, howe and what wyse your pleasure is that I shall vse my selfe. For if God graunt me the grace to be so discrete in pleasing you, as I shalbe readie and desirous to obey you, in all that you shall commaunde mee, there was neuer gentleman's seruaunt, that did more willingly please his maister, then I hope to doe you." Whereunto Didaco aunswered: "My sweete and welbeloued wife, let vs leaue this humblenesse and seruice for this time, to them whiche delight in them: for I promise you of my faith, that I haue you in no lesse reuerence and estimation, then if you had come of the greatest house in Cathalongne: as I will make you vnderstande some other time, at more leasure. But till I haue giuen order to certaine of mine affaires, I praye you to kepe our mariage secrete, and bee not offended if many times I do resorte home to mine own house, although ther shall no day passe (by my wil) but at night I wil kepe you companie. In the mean time to buye you necessaries, I will sende you a thousande, or twelue hundred Ducates, to imploye not vpon apparell, or other things requisite to your degree (for I will prouide the same my selfe at an other time) but vpon small trifles, such as be apt and conuenient for householde." And so departed Senior Didaco from his wiue's house: who did so louingly interteigne him as by the space of a yeare, there was no daye wherein he was content without the view and sight of his wife. And vpon his ofte resorte to their house, the neighbours began to suspect that he kept the mayden, and rebuked her mother and brethren, but specially Violenta, for suffering Didaco to vse their house in suche secrete wise: and aboue al they lamented the ill happe of Violenta, who being so wel brought vp till she was twentie yeares of age, and maiden of such beautie, that there was none in all the citie of Valencia but greatly did esteme her to be of singuler honestie and reputation. Notwithstanding, degenerating from her accustomed vertue, they iudged her to be light of behauiour, giuen to lasciuious loue: and albeit that verie many times, such checkes and tauntes were obiected, yet she made smal accompte of them, knowing that her conscience by anye meanes was not charged with such reproch: hoping therwithall that one daye she would make them to give ouer that false opinion when her mariage should be published and knowen. But certaine times feeling her selfe touched, and her honestie appaired, could not conteine but when she sawe time with her husband, she prayed him verie earnestlie to haue her home to his own house, to auoyde slaunder and defamacion of neighbours. But sir Didaco knewe so well howe to vse his wife by delaies and promises, as she agreed vnto him in all thinges, and had rather displease the whole world together then offende him alone. Being now so attached with the loue of the knight as she cared for nothing els, but to please and content him in al things wherunto she sawe him disposed, and like as in the beginning she was harde and very slacke in loue, nowe she became so feruent and earnest in her affections as she receiued no pleasure but in the sight of Didaco, or in that which might content and please him best. Which the knight did easely perceiue, and seing him selfe in full possession of her harte, began by litle and litle to waxe cold, and to be grieued at that which before he compted deare and precious, perswading himself that he should do wrong to his reputation, if that mariage vnworthy of his estate, were discouered and knowen in the citie: and to prouide for the same, he more seldome tymes repaired to visite his wife Violenta: yea and when soeuer he resorted to her, it was more to satisfie his carnall pleasure, then for any loue he bare her. And thus forgetting both God and his own conscience, he frequented other companies in diuerse places, to winne the good will of some other gentlewoman. In the ende by sundrie sutes, dissimulations, and hipocrisies, he so behaued him self, as he recouered the good wil of the doughter of Senior Ramyrio Vigliaracuta, one of the chiefest knightes, and of moste auncient house of Valentia. And (as we haue declared before) because he was ritche and wealthie, and issued of a noble race, her parentes did easely agree to the mariage: and the father hauing assigned an honourable dowrie to his doughter, the Nupcials were celebrated publikely with greate pompe and solemnitie, to the singuler contentation of all men. The mariage done and ended, Sir Didaco and his newe wife continued at the house of his father in lawe, where he liued a certaine time in suche pleasure and delectation as they do that be newly maried. Wherof the mother and brethren of Violenta being aduertised, conceiued like sorowe, as accustomably they doe, that see the honor of them that be issued of their owne bloud vniustly and without cause to be dispoiled. And these poore miserable creatures, not knowing to whom to make their complainte, liued in straunge perplexitie, bicause they knew not the priest which did solempnise their mariage. On the other side they had no sufficient proofe of the same. And albeit they were able to verifie in some poinctes the first mariage of Didaco, yet they durst not prosecute the lawe against two of the greatest Lordes of their citie: and knowing the stoute hart of Violenta, they thought to conceale the same from her for a time, but it was in vaine: for not long after shee was certified thereof, not onely by the next neighbours, but by the common brute of the Citie, which reported that in tenne yeres space, there was not seen in Valencia, a Mariage more honourable or royall, nor frequented with a nobler companie of Gentlemen and Ladies, then the same was of the yong knight Didaco, with the doughter of Senior Ramyrio. Wherewithall Violenta vexed beyonde measure pressed with yre and furie, withdrewe herselfe into her chamber alone, and there began to scratche and teare her face and heare, like one that was madde and out of her wittes, saying: "Alas, alas, what payne and trouble, what vnmeasurable tormentes suffreth nowe my poore afflicted mynde, without comfort or consolation of any creature liuing? what dure and cruell penaunce doe I susteine, for none offence at all? Ah! fortune, fortune, the enemy of my felicitie and blisse, thou haste so depriued me of all remedie, as I dare not so muche as to make any man know or vnderstand my mishap that the same might be reuenged, which being doen would render such content to my minde, that I should departe out of this worlde the beste satisfied mayden that euer died. Alas, that the Goddes did not graunte me the benefite, that I might haue come of noble kinde, to the intente I might haue caused that trayterous ruffien, to feele the grieuous paine and bitter tormentes, which my poore harte susteineth. Ah wretched caitife that I am, abandoned and forlorne of all good fortune: nowe I doe see that with the eies of my minde, which with those of my body daseled and deceiued I could not see or perceiue. Ah cruell enemy of all pitie, doest thou not knowe and feele in thy minde, the heauie and sorowfull sounde of my bitter plaintes? Vnderstandest not thou my voyce that crieth vengeaunce vpon thee for thy misdede? Can not thy crueltie in nothing be diminished seing me dismembred with the terrour of a thousand furious martirdomes? Ah ingrate wretche, is this nowe the rewarde of my loue, of my faithfull seruice, and mine obedience?" And as she thus bitterly tormented her selfe, her mother and brethren, and her maide, whiche was brought vp with her from her tender yeres, went vp to the chamber to Violenta, where they found her then so deformed with rage and furie, that almoste she was out of their knowledge. And when they went about to reduce her by al meanes possible from those furious panges, and saw that it nothing auailed, they lefte her in the keeping of the olde maiden, whom she loued aboue any other. And after the maiden had vttered vnto her particularly many reasons, for the appeasing of her griefe, she told her that if she would be quiet a litle while, she would go and speake to the knight Didaco, and make him to vnderstand his fault. And would with discrete order so deale with him, that he should come home to her house, and therefore shee prayed her to arme herselfe against this wickednes, and to dissemble the matter for a time, that hereafter she might vse vpon him iust reuenge. "No, no Ianique" answered Violenta, "that offence is very small and lighte, where counsaile is receiued: and albeit that I cannot chose, but confesse thine aduise to be very meete, yet there wanteth in me a minde to followe it: that if I did feele any part in me disposed to obeye the same, I would euen before thy face, separate that minde from my wretched bodie: for I am so resolued in the mallice and hatred of Didaco, as he cannot satisfie me without life alone. And I beliue the gods did cause me to be borne with mine owne hands to execute vengeaunce of their wrath and the losse of mine honour. Wherefore, Ianique, if from my youth thou diddest euer loue me, shew now the same to me by effect, in a matter whereunto thy helpe is moste necessary: for I am so outraged in my mischiefe, as I do enuie the miserablest creatures of the world, remayning no more in me to continue life in wailing and continuall sighes, but the title of a vile and abhominable whore. Thou art a straunger and liuest here a beastly life, ioyned with continuall labour: I haue twelve hundred crownes with certaine Iewelles, which that false traitour gaue me, which he predestinated by the heauens for none other purpose but to paie them their hire, which shall do the vengeaunce vpon his disloyall persone. I doe put the same money nowe into thy hands, if thou wilte helpe mee to make sacrifice with the bodye of poore Didaco: but if thou doest denie me thy helpe I will execute the same alone: and in case he do not die, as I do intende, he shalbe murdred as I may, for the first time that I shal see him with mine eyes, come of it what will, his life shalbe dispatched with these two trembling hands which thou seest." Ianique seing her maistresse in these termes, and knowinge her stoute nature, indued with a manly and inuincible stomacke, after shee had debated manye thinges in her minde, she determined wholie to imploye herselfe for her maistres in that shee was able to doe. Moued partly with pitie to see her maistres dishonored with a defamed mariage, and partly prouoked with couetousnes to gaine so great a summe of money, which her maistres did offer if she would condiscende to her enterprise (thinking after the facte committed, to flee into some other countrie.) And when shee was throughlye resolued vppon the same, shee imbraced Violenta, and said vnto her: "Maistres, if you will be ruled by mee, and giue ouer the vehemencie of your wrathe and displeasure, I haue found a way for you to be reuenged vppon Didaco, who hath so wickedly deceyued you: and albeit the same cannot be doen secretly, but in the end it must be knowen, yet I doubte not but the cause declared before the iudges, and they vnderstandinge the wronge hee hath doen you, they wil haue compassion vpon your miserie: who know right well that alwayes you haue been knowen and esteemed for a very honest and vertuous maiden: and to the ende that you be informed how this matter may be broughte to passe, first you must learne to dissemble your griefe openlye, and to faine your selfe in anye wise not to bee offended with the new mariage of the knight. Then you shall write vnto him a letter with your owne hande, letting him therby to vnderstande the paine that you suffer for the great loue you beare him, and ye shal humblie beseech him, some times to come and visite you. And sithe that frowarde fortune will not suffre you to be his wife, yet that it would please him to vse you as his louer, that you maye possesse the second place of his loue, sith by reason of his new wife you cannot inioy the first. Thus the deceiuour shalbe begiled by thinkinge to haue you at his commaundment as he was wont to doe: and being come hither to lie with you, we will handle him in such wise, as I haue inuented, that in one nighte he shal lose his life, his wife, and her whom hee thinketh to haue for his louer: for when he is a bedde with you, and fallen into his first sleepe, we will sende him into another place where in a more sonder sleepe hee shall euerlastinglie continue." Violenta all this time which fed her bloudie and cruell harte with none other repaste but with rage and disdaine, began to bee appeased, and founde the counsaile of Ianique so good, as she wholy purposed to follow the same. And to begin her enterprise, shee prayde Ianique for a time to withdrawe her selfe, vntill shee had written her letter, by the tenor whereof shee should vnderstande with what audacitie shee would prosecute the reste: and being alone in her chamber, takinge penne and paper, she wrote to Didaco, with fayned hart as followeth. "Senior Didaco I am perswaded, that if you wil vouchsafe to read and peruse the contentes of these my sorowful letters, you shalbe moued with some compassion and pitie, by beholdinge the true Image of my miserable life, pourtrayed and painted in the same, which through your disloyaltie and breach of promise is consumed and spent with so many teares, sighes, tormentes and griefes, that diuers times I maruaile howe Nature can so long support and defende the violente assaultes of so cruell a martyrdome, and that she hath not many times torne my feeble spirite out of this cruell and mortall prison: which maketh me to thinke and beleeue by continuinge life, that death himselfe hath conspired my miserie, and is the companion of my affliction: considering that by no torment she is able to make diuision betweene my soule and body. Alas, how many tenne hundred thousande times in a day haue I called for death, and yet I cannot make her to recline her eares vnto my cries. Alas, how many times am I vanquished with the sharpe tormentes of sorowe, readie to take my leaue and last farewell of you, being arriued to the extreme panges of death. Behold Didaco mine ordinary delites, behold my pleasures, behold all my pastime. But yet this is but litle in respect of that which chaunceth in the night: for if it happen that my poore eyes doe fall a sleepe, weary with incessaunt drawing forth of well springes of teares, slombring dreames cease not then to vexe and afflict my minde, wyth the cruellest tormentes that are possible to be deuised, representing vnto me by their vglie and horrible visions, the ioye and contentacion of her, which inioyeth my place: wherby the greatest ioy which I conceiue is not inferior to cruell death. Thus my life maintayned with continuacion of sorowes and griefes, is persecuted in most miserable wise: now (as you know) I dailye passe my sorow, vnder painefull silence, thinkinge that your olde promisses, confirmed with so many othes, and the assured proof which you still haue had of my faith and constancie, would haue brought you to some order, but now seing with mine eyes, the hard metall of your harte, and the crueltie of my fate, which wholie hath subdued mee to your obedience, for respect of mine honour: I am forced to complaine of him that beateth mee and thereby despoileth mee both of mine honour and life, not vouchsafing onely so much as ones to come vnto mee. And vncertaine to whom I may make recourse, or where to finde redresse, I appeale vnto you, to thende that seing in what leane and vglie state I am, your cruelty maye altogether be satisfied, which beholdinge a sighte so pitifull, wherein the figure of my tormente is liuely expressed, it may be moued to some compassion. Come hither then thou cruell manne, come hither I saye, to visite her whom with some signe of humanitie, thou maiest staye or at least wise mollifie and appease the vengeaunce which shee prepareth for thee: and if euer sparke of pitie did warme thy frosen hart, arme thy selfe with greater crueltie then euer thou was wont to doe, and come hither to make her sobbe her laste and extreme sighes, whom thou haste wretchedly deceiued: for in doing otherwise thou maiest peraduenture to late, bewaile my death and thy beastlye crueltie." And thinking to make a conclusion of her letter, the teares made her woords to die in her mouth, and woulde not suffer her to write any more: wherefore she closed and sealed the same, and then calling Ianique vnto her she said: "Holde, gentle Ianique, carye these letters vnto him, and if thou canste so well play thy part as I haue doen mine, I hope wee shall haue shortly at our commaundemente him that is the occasion of this my painfull life, more greuous vnto me then a thousand deathes together." Ianique hauing the letter, departed with diligence, and went to the house of the father in lawe of Didaco, where quietly shee waited till shee mighte speake with some of the house, which was within a while after: for one of the seruauntes of Didaco whom she knew right well, wente about certaine his maisters busines, and meeting Ianique was abashed. Of whom she demaunded if the Lord Didaco were within, and saide that she would faine speake with him: but if it were possible she would talke with him secretly. Whereof Didaco aduertised, came forth to her into the streate, to whom smilingly (hauing made to him a fayned reuerence) she said: "Senior Didaco, I can neither write nor reade, but I dare laie my life, ther is sute made vnto you by these letters, which Madame Violenta hath sent vnto you. And in deede to say the truth, there is great iniurie doen vnto her of your parte, not in respecte of your new mariage: (for I neuer thought that Violenta was a wife meete for you, considering the difference of your estates) but because you wil not vouchsafe to come vnto her, seeming that you make no more accompte of her and speciallye for that you prouide no mariage for her in som other place. And assure your selfe she is so farre in loue with you, that she is redie to die as she goeth, in such wise that making her complaint vnto me this day weeping, she said vnto me: 'Well, for so much then as I cannot haue him to be my husbande, I would to God he would mainteigne me for his frende, and certaine times in the weeke to come to see mee specially in the night, lest he should be espied of the neighbours.' And certainly if you would followe her minde herein, you shall do very well: for the case standeth thus, you may make your auaunte that you be prouided of so faire a wife, and with so beautifull a frende as any gentleman in Valentia." And then Ianique deliuered him the letter, which he receiued and redde, and hauing well considered the tenor of the same he was incontinently surprised with a sodaine passion: for hatred and pitie, loue and disdaine (as within a Cloude be conteined hotte and colde, with many contrary winds) began to combate together, and to vexe his hart with contrary minds, then pawsinge vpon answere, he said vnto her: "Ianique, my dere frende recommende mee to the good grace and fauour of thy maistres, and say vnto her, that for this time I will make her no answere, but to morow at fower of the clocke in the morning I will be at her house, and keepe her companie all the daye and nighte, and then I will tell her what I haue doen sithens I departed last from her, trusting shee shall haue no cause to be offended with me." And then Ianique taking her leaue, retourned towarde Violenta, telling her what shee had doen. To whom Violenta answeared: "Ianique, if thou hast made a good beginninge to our plotted enterprise, I likewise for my part haue not slept. For I haue deuised that wee must prouide for a stronge roape, which wee will fasten to the beddes side, and when hee shalbe a sleepe, I will caste the other ende of the rope to thee, ouerthwart the bedde, that thou maiest plucke the same with all thy mighte, and before thou beginnest to pull I will with a knife cutte his throate, wherefore thou muste prepare two great kniues, what soeuer they cost, but I pray thee let me alone with doing of the facte, that I may dispatche him of his life, which alone did make the first assault to the breach of mine honour." Ianique knew so well how to prouide for all that was requisite for the execution of their enterprise, as there rested nothing but opportunitie, to sort their cruel purpose to effect. The knight sir Didaco, at the houre appointed, tolde his new wife that he must go into the countrie, to take order for the state of his land, and that he could not retourne, til the next day in the morning. Which she by and by beleued: and the better to couer his fact, he caused two horse to be made redie, and rode forth when the clocke strake iiii. And when he had riden through a certain streat, he said to his man, which was wonte to serue his tourne in loue matters: "Carie my horse to such a manour in the countrie, and tarrie there all this day, and to morowe morning come seeke mee in suche a place, when I am gone from the house of Violenta. In the meane time set my horse in some Inne: for in any wise I will haue no man know that I doe lie there." Which doen the maister and the seruaunte wente two seuerall wayes. The knight being come to the house of Violenta, he found Ianique tarying for him, with good deuocion to vse him according to his desert, and conueyed him to the chamber of Violenta, and then she retourned about her busines. The knighte kissed Violenta and bad her good morowe, asking her how she did? Whom Violenta aunsweared: "Sir Didaco, you bid me good morrow in words, but in deede you go about to prepare for me a heuie and sorowfull life. I beleeue that your minde beareth witnes, of the state of my welfare: for you haue broughte me to such extremitie, that you see right wel how nothing els but my voice declareth me to be a woman, and therewithall so feeble a creature, as I still craue and call for death or for pitie, although both of thone and of the other, I am not heard at all: and yet thincke not Didaco, that I am so farre out of my wittes to beleeue that the cause of my writing the letter was for hope, that (you remembring my bitter paines, and your owne hainous crime) I coulde euer moue you to pitie: for I am perswaded that you wil neuer cease to exhauste and sucke the bloud, honor, and life of them that credite your trumperies and deceiptes, as nowe by experience I know by my selfe, with such deadly sorow that I still attende and loke for the sorowful ende of my life." Didaco seing her thus afflicted, fearing that her cholere woulde further inflame, began to cull her, and to take her now into his armes, telling her that his mariage with the doughter of Vigliaracuta, was concluded more by force then his owne will and minde, because they pretended to haue a gift of all the lande and goods he had in succession after his father was dead, which if they did obtain by law he should be a begger all the dayes of his life, and that the same was doen to prouide for the quiet state of them both, and notwithstanding hee had maried an other wife, yet hee purposed to loue none but her, and meant in time to poison his wife, and to spend the rest of his life with her. And thus seeming to remedie his former fault, by surmised reports, chauntinge vppon the cordes of his pleasaunt tongue, hee thought with Courtlike allurements, to appease her, which had her wittes to well sharpened to be twise taken in one trap, howbeit for feare of driuing him awaye, and to loose the meane to accomplish that which she intended, she said vnto him with forced smiling: "Sir Didaco, although you haue so ill vsed mee in time paste, as I haue no greate cause to beleeue your presente woordes, yet the loue that I beare you, is so rooted in my harte, as the faulte muste be verye greate, which shoulde remoue the same: in consideration whereof, I will constraine myselfe to beleeue that your woords be true, vpon condicion that you will sweare and promise to lie with me here ones or twyse a weeke. For me thinke that if I might at times inioye your presence, I should remaine in some part of your grace and fauour, and liue the best contented woman a liue." Whereunto hee willingly agreed, with a great nomber of other like protestations, prompte and redy in them which meane deceipt. But in the poore miserable woman had perced the same in the depth of her harte, and had credited all that he spake, no doubte he woulde haue chaunged his minde. Thus either partes spente the daye in cold and dissembled flatteries till darke nighte, with his accustomed silence, did deliuer them the meane to exercise their cruell facte. So sone as supper was doen, Didaco and Violenta walked vp and downe together, talking of certaine common matters, till the knight (pressed with slepe) commaunded his bed to be made redie: it neded not then to inquire with what diligence Violenta and Ianique obeyed his requeste: in whome onely as they thought consisted the happe, or mishappe of their intent: to whom because Violenta might shewe her selfe more affectionate, went first to bedde, and so sone as they were layde, Ianique drewe the curteines and tooke away Didaco his swoorde, and making as though she had a thing to do vnder the bedde, she fastened the rope and raked vp the fire which was in the chimney, carying a stoole to the beddes side, and layd vpon the same twoo great kechin knifes, which doen she put out the candle, and, fayning to goe out of the chamber, she shut the dore and went in againe. And then the poore infortunate knight, thinking that he was alone in the chamber with Violenta, began to clepe and kisse her, whereunto she made no refusal, but desirous to renew his old priuate toies, she prayed him of al loue that he bare vnto her to kepe truce for twoo or three howers, for that the night was long inough to satisfie his desires, affirming that it was impossible for her to wake, because fiue or sixe dayes before by reason of her griefes, she had not slept at all, notwithstanding, she said, that after her first sleepe she would willingly obey him: wherunto the gentleman was easely perswaded, aswell bicause he hadde els where sufficiently staunched his thurst, as also for that he was loth to displease her: and faining her selfe to sleepe, she turned her face to the other side, and in that wyse continued, till the poore gentleman was fallen into his sound slepe. Then Ianique softly conueyed the rope ouer his bodye, and gaue it to Violenta, and after she had placed it according to her minde, as they together had deuised before, she deliuered thende to Ianique, who being at the beddes side satte down vpon the grounde, and folding the rope about her armes, hoisted her twoo feete against the bedde to pull with greater force when nede required. Not long after, Violenta toke one of the great knifes, and lifting her selfe vp softlye, she proued with her hand, to seke a place most meete for her to stabbe a hole into her enemies fleshe. And inchaunted with wrath, rage and furie, like another Medea, thrust the poincte of the knife with suche force into his throte as shee perced it through, and the poore vnhappie man thinking to resiste the same, by geuing some repulse against that aduerse and heauie fortune, was appalled, who feeling a new charge geuen vpon him againe, specially being intricated with the roape, was not able to sturre hande nor foote, and through the excessiue violence of the paine, his speache and power to crie, was taken away: in such sorte that after he had receiued tenne or twelue mortall woundes one after an other, his poore martired soule departed from his sorowfull body. Violenta hauing ended her determined enterprise, commaunded Ianique to light the candle, and approching nere the knightes face, shee sawe by and by that he was without life. Then not able to satisfie her bloudye harte, ne yet to quenche her furious rage which boiled in her stomacke, she with the poinct of the knife tare out the eyes from his head, crying out vpon them with hideous voice, as if they had ben aliue: "Ah traiterous eyes, the messengers of a minde most villanous that euer seiorned within the bodie of man: come out of your shamelesse siege for euer, for the spring of your fained teares is now exhausted and dried vp." Then shee played the Bocher vppon those insensible members, continuing still her rage, and cruelly seazed vpon the tongue, which with her bloudy handes she haled out of his mouth, and beholding the same with a murderous eie as she was cutting it of, sayd: "Oh abhominable and periured tongue, how many lies diddest thou frame in the same, before thou couldest with the canon shot of this poysoned member, make breache into my virginitie: whereof now being depriued by thy meanes, I franckly accelerate my self to death, wherunto thou presently hast opened the way." And when shee had separated this litle member from the reste of the body (insaciable of crueltie) with the knife ripped a violent hole into his stomacke, and launching her cruel handes vpon his harte she tare it from the place, and gashing the same with many blowes, she said: "Ah, vile hart, harder then the Diamont whose andeuile forged the infortunate trappes of these my cruel destenies! oh that I could haue discoured thy cogitations in time past, as I doe now thy materiall substaunce, that I might haue bene preserued from thine abhominable treason, and detestable infidelitie." Then fleashing her selfe vpon the dead body, as a hungry lion vpon his praye, she lefte no parte of him vnwounded: and when shee had mangled his bodye all ouer, with an infinite number of gashes, she cried out: "O infected carrion, whilom an organ and instrumente of the moste vnfaithfull and trayterous minde that euer was vnder the coape of heauen. Nowe thou art payed with deserte, worthy of thy merites!" Then shee sayed to Ianique (whiche with great terrour, had all this whyle viewed her play this pageant) "Ianique I feele my selfe now so eased of payne that come death when he will, he shal find me strong and lustie to indure his furious assault, which of long time I haue assaied. Helpe me then to traine this corps out of my father's house, wherein I was first defloured, then will I tell thee what thou shalt doe: for like as mine honestie is stayned and published abrode, euen so will I the reuenge to be manifeste, crauing that his bodie may be exponed to the viewe of all men." Whose request Ianique obeied: and then she and Violenta toke the body, and threwe it out at one of the chamber wyndowes down vpon the pauement of the streate, with all the partes which she had cut of. That done she sayd to Ianique: "Take this casket with all the money within the same, and shippe thy selfe at the next port thou shalt come to, and get thee ouer into Africa to saue thy life so spedely as thou canst, and neuer come into these partes again, nor to any other wher thou art knowen." Which Ianique purposed to doe, although Violenta had not consailed her thereunto: and ready to departe, shee gaue a sorowefull farewell to her maistres, and betoke her selfe to her good fortune: and from that time forth, no man could tell whether she went, for all the persute made after her. So sone as daye appeared, the firste that passed by the streate espied the dead bodie, whiche by reason of the noyse and brute made throughout the towne, caused many people to come and see it: but no man knew what he was, being disfiguered as well by reason of the eyes torne out of his head, as for other partes mutilated and deformed. And about eight of the clocke in the morning, there was suche a multitude of people assembled, as it was in maner impossible to come nere it. The moste parte thought that some theues in the nighte had committed that murder: whiche opinion seemed to be true, because he was in his shurte: other some were of contrary opinion: and Violenta, whiche was at the wyndowe, hearing their sundrie opinions came downe and with a bolde courage and stoute voyce, that euery man might heare, said; "Sirs, you do contend vpon a thing whereof (if I were demaunded the question of the magistrates of this citie) I am able to render assured testimonie: and without great difficultie this murder can not be discouered by any other but by me." Whiche woordes the people did sone beleue, thinking that diuers gentlemen ielous of Violenta had made a fraye: for she had now loste her auncient reputacion by meanes of Didaco, who (as the fame and common reporte was bruted) did keepe her. When she had spoken those wordes, the Iudges were incontinently aduertised as well of the murder as of that whiche Violenta had said, and went thither with Sergeauntes and Officers, where they founde Violenta, more stoute then any of the standers by: and inquired of her immediatlye howe that murder came to passe, but shee without feare or appallement, made this aunswere: "Hee that you see here dead, is the Lorde Didaco: and because it apperteineth to many to vnderstand the trouth of his death (as his father in lawe, his wife and other kinsmen) I would in their presence, if it please you to cause them to be called hither declare what I knowe." The Magistrates amased to see so great a Lorde so cruelly slayne, committed her to warde til after dinner, and commaunded that all the before named should bee summoned to appeare: who assembled in the palace, with such a number of the people, as the iudges could skant haue place: Violenta in the presence of them all, without any rage or passion, first of all recompted vnto them the chast loue betwene Didaco and her, whiche hee continued the space of fourtene or fiftene monethes, without receiuing any fruicte or commoditie thereof. Within a whyle after (he being vanquished with loue) maried her secretly at her house, and solempnized the nuptialles by a Prieste vnknowen: declaring moreouer, how they had liued a yere together in householde, without any occasion of offence, on her part geuen vnto him. Then she rehersed before them his seconde mariage with the doughter of such a man, being there present, adding for conclusion, that sith he had made her to lose her honestie, shee had sought meanes to make him to loose his life: which she executed with the helpe of Ianique her mayde: who by her aduise being loth to liue any longer, had drowned her selfe. And after she had declared the true state of the matter, passed betwene them, shee sayd for conclusion, that all that she had rehersed was not to incite or moue them to pitie or compassion, thereby to prolong her life, whereof shee iudged her self vnworthy: "For if you (quoth she) do suffer me to escape your handes, thinking to saue my body, you shalbe the cause and whole ruine of my soule, for with these mine owne handes, which you see before you, I will desperatly cut of the thred of this my life." And with those wordes she held her peace: wherat the people amased, and moued with pitie, let fall the luke warme teares from their dolourouse eyes and lamented the misfortune of that poore creature: imputing the fault vppon the dead knight, which vnder colour of mariage had deceiued her. The Magistrates determining further to deliberate vpon the matter, caused the dead bodie to be buried, and committed Violenta againe to warde, taking away from her kniues and other weapons, wherewith they thought shee might hurt her selfe. And vsed such diligent search and inquirie, that the Priest which maried them was found out, and the seruaunt of Didaco that was present at the mariage of Violenta, being examined, deposed how by his maister's commaundement he caried his horse into the countrie, and how he commaunded him to come to him againe the nexte morning to the house of Violenta. And all thinges were so well brought to light, as nothing wanted for further inuestigation of the truthe, but onely the confession of him that was dead. And Violenta by the common opinion of the Judges was condempned to be beheaded: not only for that she had presumed to punishe the knightes tromperie and offence, but for her excessiue crueltie doen vpon the dead body. Thus infortunate Violenta ended her life, her mother and brethren being acquited: and was executed in the presence of the duke of Calabria, the sonne of king Frederic of Aragon: which was that time the Viceroy there, and afterwardes died at Torry in Fraunce: who incontinently after caused this historie to be registred, with other thinges worthy of remembraunce, chaunced in his time at Valencia. Bandell doth wryte, that the mayde Ianique was put to death with her maistres: but Paludanus a Spaniard, a liue at that time, writeth an excellent historie in Latine, wherin he certainly declareth that she was neuer apprehended, which opinion (as most probable) I haue folowed.



THE FORTY-THIRD NOUELL.

Wantones and pleasaunt life being guides of insolencie, doth bring a miserable end to a faire ladie of Thurin, whom a noble man aduaunced to high estate: as appereth by this historie, wherein he executeth great crueltie vpon his sayde ladie, taken in adulterie.

The auncient and generall custome of the gentlemen, and gentlewomen of Piedmonte, was daily to abandon famous cities and murmures of common wealthes to retire to their Castels in the countrie, and other places of pleasure, of purpose to beguile the troublesome turmoyles of life, with greatest rest and contentation. The troubles and griefes wherof they do feele, that intermedle with businesse of common wealth, which was with great care obserued before the warres had preposterated the order of auncient gouernement, til which time a harde matter it had ben to finde an idle gentleman in a hole citie. Who rather did resort to their countrie houses with their families, which were so well gouerned and furnished, that you should haue departed so well satisfied and instructed, from a simple gentleman's house as you should haue doen from a great citie, were it neuer so wel ruled by some wife and prouident Senatour. But sithens the world began to waxe olde, it is come again to very infancie, in suche sorte that the greatest nomber of cities are not peopled in these dayes but with a many of Carpet Squiers, that make their refiance and abode there, not to profite, but to continew their delicate life, and they do not onely corrupt themselues, but (which is worse) they infecte them that keepe them companie, whiche I will discourse somewhat more at large, for so much as the gentlewoman, of whome I describe this historie, was brought vp al the time of her youth, in one of the finest and most delicate cities of Piedmonte. And feeling as yet some sparke of her former bringing vp, she could not be reformed (being in the countrie with her husbande) but that in the ende she fill into great reproche and shame, as you shall vnderstande by the content of that whiche foloweth. In the time that Madame Margaret of Austriche, doughter of Maximilian the Emperour, went in progresse into Sauoie, towardes her husbande: there was a great Lorde, a valiaunt and courteous gentleman, in a certaine countrie of Piedmonte, whose name I will not disclose, aswell for the reuerence of his nerest kynne, which doe yet liue, as for the immoderate cruell punishemente, that he deuised towards his wife, when he toke her in the fault. This great Lorde, although he had goodly reuenues and Castelles in Piedmonte, yet for the most parte of his time, he followed the Courte, by commaundement of the Duke, that interteyned him next his owne persone, vsing commonly his aduise in all his greatest affaires. This Lorde at that tyme maried a mayden in Thurin, of meane beautie, for his pleasure, not esteming the place from whence shee came. And because he was well nere fiftie yeares of age when he maried her, she attired her selfe with such modestie, as she was more like a wydow then a maried woman: and knewe so well how to vse her husbande, the space of a yere or two, as he thought him selfe the happiest man aliue, that he had founde out so louing a wyfe. This woman being serued, and reuerenced with great honour, waxed werie of to muche reste and quiet, and began to be inamoured of a Gentleman her neighbour, whom in a litle tyme she knewe so well to vse by lookes, and other wanton toies, as he did easely perceiue it, notwithstanding for the honour of her husband, he would not seme to knowe it, but a farre of. Nowe this warme loue by litle and litle, afterwardes began to grow hot, for the yong woman wearie of such long delay, not able to content her self with lookes, vpon a day finding this yong gentleman in conuenient place, as he was walking harde by her house, began to reason with him of termes, and matters of loue: telling hym that he liued to solitarie, in respect of his yong yeares, and howe shee had alwayes bene brought vp in Townes, and places of great companie and resorte, in such wyse as now being in the Countrie, shee could not easely digeste the incommoditie of being a lone, specially for the continuall absence of her husbande, who scarce three monethes in a yeare remayned at home in his owne house. And so falling from one matter to another, loue pricked them so sore, as in fine they opened a waye to that whiche troubled them so mutch, and specially the woman: who forgetting her honour, which ordinarily dothe accompanie great Ladies, priuely she told hym the loue that she had borne hym of long tyme, whiche notwithstanding shee had dissembled, wayting when hee should haue geuen the fyrst onsette, for that Gentlemen ought rather to demaunde, then to be requyred of Ladies. This Gentleman vnderstanding (by halfe a woorde) the cause of her disease, told her: "That although his loue was extreme, neuerthelesse, deming himself vnworthy of so high degree, he stil concealed his grief, which because he thought it coulde not come to passe, feare forced him to kepe it silent. But sithe it pleased her so much to abase her selfe, and was disposed to doe him so much honour to accepte him for her seruaunte, he would imploye his indeuour, to recompence that with humilitie and humble seruice, whiche fortune had denied hym in other thinges." And hauing framed this foundacion to their loue, for this tyme they vsed no other contentment one of an other but onely deuise. But they so prouyded for their affaires to come, that they neded not to vse longer oration. For beyng neyghbours, and the husbande manye tymes absent, the hyghe waye was open to bryng their enterpryses to desired affecte. Which they full well acquieted, and yet vnable wysely to maister and gouerne their passions, or to moderate theim selues by good discretion, the seruauntes of the house (by reason of the frequented communication of the Gentleman with the Gentlewoman) began to suspecte theim, and to conceiue sinister opinion of their maistresse, although none of theim durste speake of it, or make other semblaunce of knowledge. Loue holding in full possession the hartes of these twoo louers, blynded theim so muche, as leauing the brydle to large for their honour, they vsed theimselues priuely and apertlye at all tymes one with an other, without anye respect. And when vpon a tyme, the Lorde retourned home to his owne house (from a certayne voyage, wherein he had bene in the Duke's seruice) he found his wyfe to be more fine and gorgeous then she was wont to be, whiche in the beginning dyd wonderfully astonne him. And perceiuing her sometimes to vtter wanton woordes, and to applie her mynde on other thynges, when he spake vnto her, he began diligently to obserue her countenaunce and order, and being a man broughte vp in courtlye trade, and of good experience, hee easely was perswaded that there was some ele vnder that stone, and to come to the trouthe of the matter, hee made a better countenaunce, then he was wonte to doe, which she knewe full well howe to requite and recompence: and liuing in this simulation, either of them attempted to beguile the other, that the simplest and leste craftie of them both could not be discouered. The yong gentleman, neighbour of the Lord, grieued beyond measure, for that he was come home, passed and repaired many tymes before his Castell gate, thinking to get some looke of his Ladie's eye: but by any meanes she could not for feare of her husbande, who was not so foolishe, that after he sawe him goe before his gate so many times, without some occasion, but that he easely iudged there was a secret amitie betwene them. Certaine dayes after, the gentleman to insinuate himselfe into the Lord's fauour, and to haue accesse to his house, sent him a very excellent Tercelet of a Faucon, and at other times he presented him with Veneson, and vmbles of Dere, which he had killed in hunting. But the Lorde (which well knew that flatterie many times serued the torne of diuerse, to beguile foolish husbands of their faire wiues) that he might not seme vngrateful, sent him also certain straung things. And these curtesies continued so long, that the Lorde desirous to lay a baite, sent to praye him to come to dyner: to which requeste the other accorded liberally, for the deuocion he had to the sainct of the Castell. And when the table was taken vp, they went together to walk abroade in the fieldes. And that more frendly to welcome him, he prayed his wife to goe with them, whereunto she made no great deniall. And when they had debated of many thinges, the Lord said vnto him: "Neighbour and frende, I am an old man and Melancholie, as you know, wherfore I had neede from henceforth to reioyce my self. I pray you hartely therefore to come hither many times, to visit vs and therewithal to participate such fare as God doth send. Vsing the thinges of my house, as they were your owne." Whiche the other gratefully accepted, humblie praying that his Lordshyp would commaunde him and that he had, when he pleased, and to commaunde him as his very humble and obedient seruaunt. This Pantere layed, the yong gentleman ordinarely came ones a daye to visite the Lorde and his wife. So long this pilgrimage continued, vntill the Lorde (vpon a time, faining himselfe to be sicke) commaunded that no man should come into his chamber, because all the night before he was ill at ease, and could take no reste. Whereof the gentleman was incontinently aduertised by an old woman hired of purpose for a common messenger, of whom a none we purpose to make remembraunce. Being come to the Castell, he demaunded how the Lord did, and whether he might go see him, to whom aunswer was made, that he could not, for that he was fallen into a slomber. Madame now was in the garden alone, roming vp and down for her pleasure, and was aduertised that the Gentleman was come. Who being brought into the gardeine, and certified of the Lordes indisposition, began to renew his old daliaunce with the Ladie, and to kisse her many times, eftsones putting his hand into her bosome, and vsing other pretie preparatifes of loue, which ought not to be permitted but only to the husband. In the meane time, while they twoo had ben there a good space, the husband slept not, but was departed out of his chamber, the space of two houres and more, and was gone vp to the highest place of all his Castell, wher at a very litle window, he might discrie al that was done, within the compasse of his house. And there seing al their curteous offers and proffers, hee waited but when the gentleman should haue indeuoured himself to precede further, that he might haue then discharged his mortal malice vpon them both. But they fearing that their long abode in the gardein might ingender some displeasure, retourned into the Castell, with purpose in time to content their desires, so sone as opportunitie serued. The Lorde noting all the demeanour betwene them, retourned to his chamber, and so went againe to his bed, faining to be sicke, as he did all the daye before. Supper time come, the lady went to know his pleasure, whether he would sup in his chamber or in the hall: he answered (with a disguised cherefull face) that he began to feele himselfe well, and that he had slept quietly sithens diner, and was determined to suppe beneth, sending that night for the gentleman, to beare him companie at supper: and could so well disemble his iust anger, as neither his wife, nor the Gentleman perceiued it by any meanes. And so the Lorde with his Lady still continued, the space of fiftene dayes, or three wekes, making so much of her (as though it had ben the firste moneth that he maried her) in suche sorte, as when the poore miserable woman thought to haue gotten victorie ouer her husband and frend, it was the houre that fortune did weaue the toyle and nette to intrappe her. The Lorde which no longer could abide this mischief, driuen into an extreame choler, seing that he was able to finde no meanes to take them (himselfe being at home) deliberated either sone to die or to prouide for the matter: and the better to execute his determination, he counterfaited a letter from the Duke of Sauoie, and bare it secretly to the post him selfe alone, and commaunded him next daye to bring it to his Castell, whereby he fained that the Duke had sent the same vnto him. Whiche matter the post did handle so well, as he brought the letter, when he was at supper, with botes on his legges all durtie and raied, as though he were newly lighted from his horse. And the better to maintain his wife in her error, after he had reade the letter, he gaue it to her to reade: which conteined no other thing but that the Duke commaunded him presently with all diligence, himselfe and his traine to come vnto him, to be dispatched vpon ambassage into Fraunce. That doen he said vnto her: "Wife, you see how I am constrayned to depart with spede (to my great grief) bid my men therfore to be ready in the morning, that they may go before and wayte for me at Thurin, where my Lord the Duke is at this present. I my self will departe from hence to morow at night after supper, and will ride in post in the freshe of the night." And the better to deceiue this poore vnhappie woman, he went into his Closet, and took his caskette, wherin was the moste parte of his treasure, and deliuering the same vnto her, sayde: "That fearing leste hee shoulde tarie long in Fraunce, he would leaue the same with her to help her when she wanted." And after all this traine was gone, hee caused one of the yeomen of his chamber to tary behynde, whose fidelitie he had at other times proued: and all that daye he ceased not to cherishe and make much of his wyfe. But the poore soule did not forsee, that they were the flatteries of the Crocodile, which reioyseth when he seeth one deceiued. When he had supped, he made a particuler remembraunce to his wife how the affaires of his house should be disposed in his absence: and then toke his leaue, giuing her a Iudas kisse. The lorde vnethes had ridden twoo or thre miles, but that his wife had sent the olde woman to carye worde to her louer, of the departure of her husband, and that he might saufly come and lie with her in the castell, for that all the seruauntes were ridden forth with their maister, sauing one yeoman and her twoo maydes, whiche doe neuer vse to lie in her chamber. Vpon this glad newes the Gentleman thought no scorne to appeare vppon that warning, and the old woman knew the way so well, as she brought him straight into the ladies chamber, whom loue inuegled in such wise, as they lay together in the bedde where the lord was wont to lye. And the olde woman laye in an other bed in that chamber, and shut the dore within. But while these twoo poore passionate louers thought they had attayned the toppe of all felicitie, and had inioyed with full saile the fauours of the litle God Cupide, Fortune desirous to departe them, for the last messe of the feast prepared so bitter Comfettes, as it cost them both their liues, with such cruell death, as if they which make profession of semblable things doe take example, wyues will get them better names, and husbandes shalbe lesse deceiued. The Lorde that night made no longer tracte of time, but lighted from his horse, at the keper of one of his Castles houses, whom he knewe to be faythfull. To whome in the presence of the yeoman of his chamber, he discoursed the loue betwene the gentleman and his wyfe, and commaunded them with all spede to arme themselues, and with a case of pistolets to follow him, whom they obeyed. And beyng come to the Castell gate he saide to the keper of his castell: "Knocke at the gate, and fayne thy selfe to be alone, and saye that I passing by thy house did leaue a remembraunce with thee, to cary to my ladie. And because it is a matter of importaunce, and requireth hast, thou were compelled to bring it this night." Knocking at the gate somewhat softely (for feare lest they whiche were in the chambers should heare) a yeoman rose whiche laye in the courte, knowing the voyce of the keper (because he was one, whome his lorde and maister dyd greatly fauour) opened the gate, and the firste thyng they did, they lyghted a torche, and wente vp all three to the Lordes chamber, not sufferyng anye man to cary newes to the Ladie, of theyr approche. Being come to the chamber doore, the keeper knocked, whiche immediatly the olde woman hearde, and without opening the doore, asked who was there. "It is I (quod the keeper,) that haue brought a letter to my ladie, from my Lorde my maister, who ryding this nyght in post to Thurin, passed by my house, and very earnestly charged me by no meanes to fayle but to deliuer it this night." The Ladie aduertised hereof, who could not mistruste that her owne man (whome she tooke to bee simple, and voyde of guyle) would haue framed a platte for suche a treason, sayde to the olde woman: "Receiue the letter at the doore, but in any wyse let him not come in, and I will accomplishe the contentes." The olde woman, which thought onely but to receiue the letter betwene the doore, was astoned when the keper who (giuing her a blow with his foote vpon the stomacke) threwe her backward, where she laie more then a quarter of an houre, without speaking or mouing. And then they three entring the chamber in great rage, with their pistolets in their handes, found the two miserable louers starke naked, who seing them selues surprysed in that state, were so sore ashamed as Eue and Adam were, when their sinne was manifested before God. And not knowing what to doe, reposed their refuge in lamenting and teares, but at the verie same instaunt, they bounde the armes and legges together, of the poore gentleman with the chollers of their horse, which they brought with them of purpose. And then the Lorde commaunded that the twoo maydes, which were in the Castell, and the reste of the seruantes, should be called to assiste them, to take example of that faire fight. And all the meane people being gathered in this sort together, the lorde tourning him self vnto his wife, saied vnto her: "Come hither thou vnshamefast, vile, and detestable whore, like as thou hast had a harte so traiterous and vnfaithfull, to bring this infamous ruffian in the night into my castell, not only to robbe and dispoile me of mine honour, which I preferre and esteme more then life: but also (whiche is more to be abhorred) to infring and breake for euer, the holie and precious bande of mariage, wherewithall wee be vnited and knit together. So will I forthwith, that with these thyne owne handes, with whiche thou gauest me the firste testimonie of thy faith, that he presently shalbe hanged and strangled in the presence of all menne, not knowing howe to deuise anye other greater punishimente, to satisfie thyne offence, then to force thee to murder hym, whome thou haste preferred before thy reputation, aboue myne honour, and estemed more then thine owne life." And hauing pronounced this fatall iudgement, he sent one to seeke for a greate naile of a Carte, which he caused to be fastened to the beame of the chamber, and a ladder to be fetched, and then made her to tie a Coller of the order belonginge to theeues and malefactours, about the necke of her sorowfull louer. And because she alone was not able to do that greuous and waightie charge, hee ordayned that like as the olde woman had bin a faithfull minister of his wiue's loue, so shee should put her hand in performing the vttermost of that worke. And so these two wretched women, were by that meanes forced to suche extremitie, as with their owne handes, they strangled the infortunate Gentleman: with whose death the Lord not yet satisfyed, caused the bedde, the clothes, and other furnitures (wherupon they had taken their pleasures past) to be burned. He commaunded the other vtensiles of the chamber to be taken away, not suffring so much straw, as would serue the couche of two dogges, to be left vnconsumed. Then he said to his wife: "Thou wicked woman, amonges al other most detestable: for so much as thou hast had no respecte to that houourable state, whereunto fortune hath aduaunced thee, being made by my meanes of a simple damosell, a greate Ladie, and because thou hast preferred the lasciuious acquaintaunce of one of my subiects, before the chast loue, that thou oughtest to haue borne me: my determination is, that from henceforth thou shalt kepe continuall company with him, to the vttermost day of thy life: because his putrified carcase hath giuen occasion to ende thy wretched body." And then hee caused all the windowes and doores to be mured, and closed vp in such wyse, as it was impossible for her to go oute, leauing onely a litle hole open, to giue her bread and water: appointing his Steward to the charge thereof. And so this poore miserable woman, remained in the mercie of that obscure and darke prison, without any other company, then the deade body of her louer. And wheu shee had continued a certaine space in that stinking Dongeon, without aire or comfort, ouercome with sorrow and extreme paine, she yelded her soule to God.



THE FORTY-FOURTH NOUELL.

The loue of Alerane of Saxone, and of Adelasia the daughter of the Emperour Otho the thirde of that name. Their flight and departure into Italie, and how they were known againe, and what noble houses of Italie descended of their race.

The auncient histories of Princes (as wel vnder the name of kinge, as of the title of Duke, which in time paste did gouerne the Countrie of Saxone) do reporte that Otho the seconde of that name, which was the first Emperour that lawfullye raigned (after the Empire ceassed in the stock of Charles the great) had of his wife Matilde doughter of the king of Saxone, one sonne which succeded him in the Imperial crowne, called Otho the third, who for his vertuous education and gentle disposition, acquired of all men the surname of The loue of the world. The same Emperour was curteous and mercifull, and neuer (to any man's knowledge) gaue occasion of griefe to any person, he did good to euery man, and hurt none: likewise he thought that kingdome to be well gotten, and gotten to be better kept, where the king, Prince or Ruler therof, did studie and seeke meanes to be beloued, rather then feared, sith loue ingendreth in it selfe a desire of obedience in the people. And contrary wise, that Prince which by tyrannic maketh himself to be feared, liueth not one houre at rest, hauing his conscience tormented indifferently, both with suspition and feare, thinking stil that a thousand swords be hanging ouer his head, to kill and destroye him. Otho then vnder his name of Emperour, couered his clemencie with a certaine sweete grauite and Princely behauiour. Who notwithstanding declared an outward shew of curtesie, to make sweete the egreness of displeasure, which they feele and taste that be subiect to the obeysaunce of any new Monarchie. Man being of his owne nature so louing of himselfe, that an immoderate libertie seemeth vnto him sweeter, more iust and indurable, than aucthorities rightly ordained, the establishment whereof seemeth to represente the onely gouernment of that first kinge, which from his high throne, giueth being aud mouing to al thinges. That good Emperour then knowinge verye well the mallice of men, who although he was a good man of warre, hardye of his hands, and desirous of glorie, yet moderated so well the happie successe of his enterprises, as his grace and gentlenes principally appeared, when he had the vpper hand, for that he cherished and well vsed those whom he had subdued vnder his obedience: his force and felicitie was declared when he corrected and chastised rebells, and obstinate persons, which wilfully would proue the greate force of a Princes arme iustly displeased, and to others what fauour a king could vse towards them, whom he knew to be loyal and faithfull: giuing cause of repentaunce to them which at other times had done him displeasure. And to say the truth, he mighte be placed in the ranke of the most happie princes that euer were, if the priuate affaires of his owne house had so happily succeeded, as the renowme which hee wanne in the science of warfare, and in the administration of the common wealth. But nothing being stable in the life of man, this emperour had in him, that which diminished the glorie of his wisedome, and (resembling an Octauius Augustus) the vnhappie successe of his owne house did somewhat obscure the fame of his noble factes, and those insolent doinges serued vnto him as a counterpoyse to prosperous fortune, which may be easely perceiued, by the progresse and continuation of this historie. This good Prince had one daughter, in whom nature had distributed her giftes in such wise, as she alone might haue vaunted her self to attaine the perfection of all them, which euer had any thing, worthy of admiration, were it in the singularitie of beauty, fauour and courtesie, or in her disposition and good bringing vp. The name of this fayre Princesse was Adelasia. And when this Ladie was very yong, one of the children of the Duke of Saxone, came to the Emperour's seruice, whose kinsman he was. This yonge Prince, besides that he was one of the fayrest and comliest gentlemen of Almaigne, had therwithall, together with knowledge of armes, a passing skill in good sciences, which mitigated in him the ferocitie both of his warlike knowledge, and of the nature of his countrey. His name was Alerane, who seing himsefe the yongest of his house, and his inheritaunce very small, indeuoured to conciliate every man's fauour and good will, to remoue his owne fortune, and to bring himselfe in esteemation with the Emperour, wherein all thinges hee imployed so well his indeuour, as through his worthines he wanne commendation and report, to be the most valiaunte and stoutest gentleman in all the Emperour's Court, which praise did greatly commend the tendernes of his yong yeares, and was therewithall so sober, and of so gentle spirite, that although he excelled his companions in all things, yet he auoyded cause of offence (shewinge himselfe familiar amonge all the Courtiers.) Euery man (which is a greate matter) praised him and loued him, and he thought himself most happie, that by any meanes could fashion himself to imitate the vertue that made Alerane's name so renowmed. And that which made him fuller of admiracion, and brought him into fauour with his Lord and maister was, that vpon a day the Emperour being in hunting alone in the middes of a launde, and in a desert place, it chaunced that a Beare issuinge out of her caue, was assayled of Hunters: the fierce beaste, auoyding the toyles and flyinge the pursute of the dogges, came with greate vehemencie and speede from a mountaine, and was vpon the Emperour or he was ware, separated from his companie and without his sword. But Alerane by good fortune was at hand, who more careful for the safetie of his Prince than for his owne life, encountred the beare, and killed him in the presence of the Emperour and many other. All which beholding (to their great astonishmente) the dexteritie and hardines of Alerane at those small yeares, (for then hee was not aboue the age of XVII.) the Emperour imbracing him, did highly commende him, tellinge them that were by, that his life was saued chiefely by God's assistaunce, and nexte by the prowesse of Alerane. The newes hereof was so bruted abroade, as there was no talke but of the valiaunce and stoutenes of this yong man of warre, which caused fair Adelasia (moued by naturall instigation, and with the opinion and reporte of the vertue toward in that yonge Prince) to feele a certaine thing (I cannot tell what) in her minde, which inflamed her senses and hart. And she had no sooner cast her eyes vpon Alerane, but loue, which had prepared the ambushe, so pearsed her delicate breast, as he toke ful possession of her: in such wyse as the Princesse was so straungelye in loue wyth the yonge Prince, that she neuer founde pleasure and contentment but in that which was done or said by her louer, whom she accompted the chiefe of all the men of his time. In this burning heate, she felt the passions of Loue so vehement, and his pricks so sharpe, that she could not euaporate the cloudes which darkened her spirites and continually tormented her minde. And albeit that the little occasion, which she saw, for their comminge together in time to come, did disswade her from pursuing the thing which she most desired: yet the tyrant Loue shewed himselfe very extreame in that diuersitie of thoughts, and variety of troubles which vexed the spirite of the Princesse: for shee could not so well dissemble that, which honour and age commaunded her to keepe secrete, but that Alerane which was (as we haue alreadie said) well expert and subtile, perceiued the inwarde disease of Adelasia. Moreouer there was betweene them a naturall conformitie and likelyhode of conditions, which made them to agree in equall desires, to feede of like meates, their passionate mindes were martired with equall sorowe and paine, departed as wel in the one as in the other. For Alerane by taking careful heede to the lookes which the Princesse continually did stealingly cast vpon him, saw the often and sodaine chaunces of colour, wherein sometimes appeared ioye, which by and by did ende with infinite nomber of sighes, and with a countenance agreeable to that, which the hart kept secrete and couert, whereby he assured himselfe vnfainedly to be beloued, which caused him to do no lesse (for satisfaction of such like merite and desert done by Adelasia) but to beare vnto her like affection, forcinge her by all diligence and seruice to continue still that good will toward him, yelding himselfe a pray to the selfe same Loue. Who ruling thaffections of the Princesse, (as braue and pleasaunt as she was) made her sorowfull and pensife, and altered her in such wise as she thought the companie wherein she was did impeach her ioy, which companie she imagined to conceiue the like pleasure that she did, when at libertie and alone shee reuolued her troubles, and fansied her contentation in her minde. Alerane on the other side slept not, but as though he had receiued the first wound by the handes of the blinde little archer Cupide, ceassed not to thincke of her, whose image ordinarelye appeared before his eyes, as engrauen more liuely in his minde than anye forme may be insculped vppon mettall or marble. And yet neither the one nor the other, durste discouer the least passion of a greate nomber which oppressed their besieged hartes, and which suffered not to liue in anye reste this faire couple of loyall louers. The eyes alone did thoffice of the handes and tongue, as trustie secretaries, and faithful messengers of the effects of the minde. That which kindled the fier moste, was their frequente talke together, which was but of common matters, withoute vtteraunce of that which the hart knewe well enoughe, and whereof the eyes gaue true testimonie. A passion truly most intollerable for a yonge Princesse, as well because she neuer had experience of semblable sorow, as for her tender age, and yet more for a naturall abashmente and shame, which with the vaile of honor doth serue, or ought to serue for a bridle, to euery Ladie couetous of fame, or like to be the ornament or beauty of her race. Adelasia then floting in the tempestuous seas of her appetites, guided by a maister which delighteth in the shipwracke of them he carieth, vanquished with an immoderate rage of loue, tormented with grief vnspeakeable, offended with her owne desires, beinge alone in her chamber, began to complaine her sorowes, and saide: "Ah, what passion is it that is vnknowen vnto me, that ingendreth an obliuion of that which was wont to delighte and contente me? From whence commeth this new alteration, and desire vnaccustomed, for solitarie being alone, is the reste and argumente of my troubles? What diuersities and chaunges be these that in this sorte do poise and weigh my thought? Ah, Adelasia, what happie miserie dost thou finde in this free prison, where pleasure hath no place till the enemies haue disquieted the life, with a Million of painefull aud daungerous trauailes? What is this to say, but that againste the nature of maidens of my yeres I will not, or cannot be quiet day nor night, but take my repast and feeding vpon cares and thoughtes? Alacke, I thought then to finishe my sorowes and griefes, when (being alone) I began to frame the plot of my tormentes and paines, with so many formes and deuises in my fansie, as I do make wishes and requestes vpon the thing I loue and esteeme aboue all, vppon which all mine affections do depende and take their beginning. What is this to saye, but that my maydes do offende mee, when with discrete wordes they go about to diuert me from my follies and pleasaunt noysome thoughtes? Wherefore should not I take in good part the care which they haue of my health, and the paine which they take to remember me of my torment? Alas, they know not wherein consisteth the force of mine euil, and much lesse is it in their power to remedie the same. Euen so I would haue none other plaister but him that hath giuen me the wound, nor none other meate but the hunger that drieth me vp, I craue none other comfort but the fire which burneth mee continuallye, the force wherof pearceth the sucke and marie within my bones. Ah Alerane, Alerane, the floure and mirror of all prowesse and beautie: it is thou alone that liueste in mee, of whom my minde conceyueth his hope, and the hart his nourishment. Alas: that thy worthines should be the ouerthrow of mine honour, and thy perfection the imperfection of my life. Ah Loue, Loue, how diuersly thou dealest with mee. For seing mine Alerane, I am attached with heate in the middes of ise that is full oolde. In thinking of him, I do both rest and trauaile continually. Nowe I flee from him, and sodainly againe I desire him. In hearing him speake, the suger and hony, that distilleth from his mouth, is the contentmente of my minde, till such time as his words appeare to be different from my desire. For then, ah Lord: my rest is conuerted into extreme trauaile, thy honye into gall, and wormewoode more bitter than bitternes it selfe, the hope of my minde is become dispayre so horrible, as the same onely wil breede vnto me, (if God haue not pittie vpon me) a short recourse of death." After these wordes, shee rested a longe time without speaking, her armes a crosse, and her eyes eleuate on highe, which ranne downe like a Ryuer of teares, and seemed to be so rauished, as a man would haue iudged her rather a thing withoute life, than a creature sensible, and labouring for life, till, recouering her spirites againe, as comming from an extasie and sounde, she beganne her plaintes againe in this sort: "What? must such a Princesse as I am, abase my selfe to loue her owne subiect, yea and her kinseman, and specially not knowing yet how his minde is disposed? Shall I be so vnshamefast, and voyde of reason, to surrender my selfe to anye other but to him, whom God and fortune hath promised to be my espouse? Rather death shall cut of the threde of my yeres, than I wil contaminate my chastitie, or that any other enioy the floure of my virginitie, than he to whom I shal be tied in mariage. Ah: I say and promise muche, but there is a tormenter in my minde which dealeth so rigorouslie with my reason, as I cannot tel wherupon wel to determine. I dare not thincke (which also I ought not to do) that Alerane is so foolish to despise the loue of one, that is the chiefeste of the doughters of the greatest Monarches of the world, and much lesse that hee should forget himselfe, in such wise to forsake mee, hauing once enioyed the best and dearest thing that is in mee, and whereof I meane to make him the onelye and peaceable possessor. Truly the vertue, gentlenes, and good nurriture of Alerane, doe not promise suche treason in him, and that great beautie of his, cannot tell how to hyde such rigor as hee will refuse one that is no deformed and ill fauoured creature, and which loueth him with such sinceritie, as wher she shall lose the meanes to inioy him, there shee shal feele, euen forthwith, the miserable ende of her sorowfull dayes." And then againe she helde her peace, tossed and turmoiled with diuers thoughtes fleetinge betweene hope and feare: by and by she purposed to deface from her hart the memorie of Loue, which alreadie had taken to faste footinge, and would not be separated from the thing, which heauen himselfe seemed to haue prepared, for the perfection and glorie of his triumphe. Loue then constrayned her, to resolue vppon her laste determination. Then continuinge her talke, sighing without ceasing, she said: "Chaunce what may to the vttermost, I can but wander like a Vagabonde and fugitiue with mine owne Alerane (if hee will shew me so much pleasure to accept mee for his own): for sure I am, the Emperour wil neuer abide the mariage, which I haue promised: and sooner will I die, than another shall possesse that which Alerane alone deserueth: hauinge a long time vowed and dedicated the same vnto him. And afterwards let the vulgar sort blabbe what they liste of the bolde and foolishe enterprises of Adelasia, when my harte is contented and desire satisfied, and Alerane enioyeth her that loueth him more than her selfe. Loue verily is not liable to the fansie of the parentes, nor yet to the will euen of them that subiungate themselues to his lawes. And besides that I shall not be alone amongest Princesses, that haue forsaken parentes and countries, to folow their loue into straunge regions. Faire Helena the Greeke, did not she abandon Menelaus her husbande and the rich citie of Sparta, to follow the faire Troian, Alexander sailing to Troie? Phedria and Ariadne, despised the delicates of Creta, lefte her father a very old man, to go with the Cecropian Theseus. None forced Medea the wise furious lady (but loue) to departe the isle of Colchos, her owne natiue countrey, wyth the Argonaute Iason. O good God, who can resist the force of loue, to whom so many kinges, so many Monarches, so many wise men of al ages haue done their homage? Surely the same is the onely cause that compelleth me (in makinge my selfe bolde) to forget my dutie towardes my parentes, and specially mine honour, which I shall leaue to be reasoned vpon by the ignoraunt which considereth nothing but that which is exteriourly offred to the viewe of the sighte. Ah: how much I deceiue my selfe, and make a reckeninge of much without mine hoste: and what know I if Alerane (although hee do loue me) will loose the good grace of the Emperour; and forsake his goods, and (so it maye bee) to hazard his life, to take so poore and miserable a woman as I am? Notwithstanding I wil proue fortune, death is the worst that can chaunce, which I wil accelerate rather than my desire shall loose his effecte." Thus the fayre and wise Princesse concluded her vnhappie state: and all this time her best frende Alerane, remained in greate affliction, and felt such feare as cannot be expressed with woordes, onely true louers know the force, altogether like to that wherof the yong Prince had experience, and durst not discouer his euill to her, that was able to giue him her allegeaunce, much lesse to disclose it to any deare frende of his, into whose secrecie he was wont to commit the most parte of his cares, which was the cause that made him feele his hart to burne like a litle fier in the middes of a cleare riuer, and saw him selfe ouerwhelmed within the waters, hotter than those that be intermixed with Sulphure, and do euaporate and sende forth ardente smokes in an AEthna hill or Vesuue mountaine. The Princesse impaciente to endure so long, could no longer keepe secrete the flames hidden within her, without telling and vtteringe them to some, whom her minde liked best, and there to render them wher she thought