Canto 28

YOu Ladies, yee that Ladies hold in prise,
Giue not (perdie) your eare to this same tale,
The which to telll, mine Host doth here deuise,
To make men think your vertues are but small:
Though from so base a tongue there can arise,
To your sweete sexe, no iust disgrace at all;
Fooles will find fault without the cause discerning,
And argue most, of that they haue no lerning.

Turne ou'r the leaf, and let this tale alone,
If any thinke the sex by this disgraced,
I write it for no spite, nor mallice none,
But in my Authors booke I finde it placed;
My loyall loue to Ladies all is knowne,
In whom I see such worth to be imbraced,
That theirs I am, and glad would be therefore,
To shew thereof a thousand proofes and more.

Peruse it not, or if you do it reed,
Esteeme it not, but as an idle table;
Regard it not, or if you take some heed,
Belieue it not, but as a foolish fable:
But to the matter, thus it was indeed,
When all the guests were cheared at the table;
Neare Rodomont (so was the Pagan named)
Downe sate mine Host, and thus his tale he framed.

Astolfo, whilom king of Lombardy,
To whom his elder brother left his rayne,
Was in his youth so fresh and faire to see,
As few to such perfection could attaine:
Appelles match, or Zeuces he might be,
That such a shape could paint without much paine,
Great was his grace, and all the world so deemd it,
But yet himselfe of all men most esteemd it.

He did not of his scepter take such pride,
Nor that degree that common men are vnder,
Nor wealth, nor frends, nor meaner kings beside,
That there about dwelt neare or far asunder:
But of his beautie, which he would not hide,
At whole rare worth, he thought ye world did wonder,
This was his ioy, and all that he intended,
To heare his comely face and shape commended.

Among his courtiers, one aboue the rest,
Fausto by name; by birth a Romane knight:
Who hearing oft so praisd, as they know best,
His face, and hands, and all that praise he might,
The king did bid him tell at his request;
Neare or far of, if he had seene that wight,
That in all parts so perfectly was wrought:
But he was answerd as he little thought.

My Liege (quoth Fausto) plainly to declare,
Both what my selfe doth see, and others say,
But few with your rare beautie can compare,
And that same few were none, were one away:
Iocundo hight, a man of beautie rare,
And brother mine, excepting whom, I may
Prefer your grace before all other creatures,
But he doth match or passe you for his features.

The king to heare such tidings strange it thought,
As hauing still till that day kept the prise,
And with a deepe desire straight wayes he sought,
To know this man, and see him with his eies:
In fine, with Fausto so far forth he wrought,
To bring him to his court he must deuise:
Although (quoth he) to bring my brother to it,
I shall be sure of worke enough to do it.

The cause is this, my brother neuer went
Foorth of the gates of Rome scant all his life,
And such small goods as Fortune hath him lent,
He hath enioyd in quiet, free from strife,
Left by our sire, and them he hath not spent,
Nor yet increast, his gaines are not so rife:
And he will thinke it more to go to Pauy,
Then some would thinke to th' Indies in a Nauy.

But I shall finde it hardest when I proue,
To draw him from his louing wife away;
To whom he is so linkt in chaines of loue,
That all is vaine, if once his wife say nay:
But yet your grace is so far all aboue,
You shall command me, certes all I may.
Thanks (quoth the king) and addeth such reward,
As might haue moued any to regard.

Away he posts, arriuing in few dayes
At Rome, and to his brothers house he went,
And with such earnest words his brother prayes,
That to returne with him he doth consent:
Also his sisters loue he so allayes,
That she doth hold her peace, as halfe content,
Beside great thanks, laying before her eyes,
Preferments large, that hereof might arise.

Iocundo now resolu'd to go his way,
Gets men and horse against he should depart,
Sets forth himselfe with new and rich aray,
As still we see nature adornd by art.
His wife at night in bed, at boord by day;
With watrie eyes to shew a sorrie hart,
Complaines his absence will so sore her grieue,
Till his returne she doubts she shall not liue.

Ay me, the thought (quoth she) makes me so fraid,
That scant the breath abideth in my brest;
Peace my sweete loue and life (Iocundo said)
And weepes as fast, and comforts her his best:
So may good fortune ay my iourny aid,
As I returne in threescore dayes at least:
Nor will I change the day I set thee downe,
No though the king would grat me halfe his crowne

All this might not asswage this womans paine,
Two months were long, yea to to long she cries,
Needs must I die before you come againe,
Nor how to keepe my lite can I deuise:
The dolefull dayes and nights I shall sustaine,
From meat my mouth, from sleepe will keepe mine eyes:
Now was Iocundo readie to repent,
That to his brother he had giu'n consent.

About her necke a iewell rich she ware,
A crosse all set with stone in gold well tride,
This relicke late, a Boem Pilgrim bare,
And gaue her father other things beside:
Which costly things he kept with no small care,
Till comming from Ierusalem he dyde:
And her of all his goods his heire he makes,
This precious crosse to her goodman she takes,

And prayes him for her sake to weare that token,
And thinke on her: the man that was most kind,
Receiu'd it with more ioy then can be spoken,
Although he needed not be put in mind,
For why no time, nor no state sound nor broken,
Nor absence long, a meane should euer find,
To quayle his loue, not only while his breath
Maintains his life, but neither after death.

That verie night that went before the morrow,
That they had pointed surely to depart,
Iocundos wife was sicke, and sounds for sorrow,
Amid his armes, so heauie was her hart;
All night they wake, and now they bid Godmorrow
And giue their last farewell, and so they part;
Iocundo on his way with all his traine,
His louing wife doth go to bed againe.

Scant had Iocundo rode two mile forthright,
But that his crosse, now came into his minde,
Which on his pillow he had laid last night,
And now for hast had left the same behinde:
He would deuise to scuse it if he might,
But no excuse sufficient could he finde:
But that his loue must needs be much suspected,
To finde the precious iewell so neglected.

When no excuse within his minde could frame,
But that all seemed friuolous and vaine;
To send his man, he counted it a shame,
To go himselfe it was but little paine:
He staid, and when his brother did the same,
Ride soft (quoth he) till I returne againe:
For home againe I must, there is no nay,
But I will ouertake you on the way.

Th'affaire is such as none can do but I,
But doubt you not, I will returne as fast;
Away he spurres as hard as he could hy,
Alone without or man or page, for hast:
Now had the sunnes new rising cleard the sky,
With brightest beames, ear he the streame had past,
He hies him home, and findes his wife in bed,
Full sound asleepe, such cares were in her hed.

He draws the curtaine softly without sound,
And saw that he would little haue suspected;
His chast and faithfull yokefellow he found
Yokt with a knaue, all honestie neglected:
Th'Adulterer, though sleeping verie sound,
Yet by his face was easily detected:
A beggers brat, bred by him from his cradell,
And now was ryding on his masters sadell.

Now if he stood amazd and discontent,
Beleeue it yee, to trie that would be loth;
For he that tries it, doubtlesse will repent,
As poore Iocundo did, who was so wroth,
That out he drew his sword, with iust intent,
For their vngratefull act to kill them both:
But lo, the loue he bare her, did withstand,
Against his heart, to make him hold his hand.

O ribald loue, that such a staue couldst make,
Of one that now was subiect to thy force;
He could not breake her sleepe for pitties sake.
That brake all bonds of faith without remorse;
But back he goes before they did awake,
And from his house he gets him to his horse:
Loue so pricks him, and he so pricks his steed,
He ouertakes his companie with speed.

His looke is sad, all changed is his cheare,
Full heauie was his heart they well perceiued,
They see no cause of griefe, nor guesse they neare,
And they that guesse most likely are deceiued;
They thought he went to Rome, but you do heare
How at Cornetto he his hurt receiued:
Each man espide that loue procur'd that passion,
But none descride the manner nor the fashion.

His brother deemes that all his griefe doth grow,
Because his louing wife is left alone;
But he a cleane contrary cause doth know,
Her too much companie did cause his mone:
He bends his browes, his looks he casts alow,
With powting lips, and many a grieuous grone;
In vaine doth Faustus comfort seeke to bring him,
For why he knowes not where the shoo doth wring him.

He giues a salue afore the sore is found,
His plaisters are as poison to the smart;
He seeks to heale, and wider makes the wound,
He names his wife, but her name kils his hart:
Gone was his tast, his sleeps do grow vnsound,
Nature decayth, and little helpeth art;
And that faire face that erst was of such fame,
Is now so chang'd, it seemeth not the same.

His eyes are sunke so deepe into his hed,
It made his nose seeme bigger then it should,
His flesh doth shrinke, his bones do seeme to spred,
He was so chang'd, as more cannot be told;
At last an agew makes him keepe his bed,
And bait at Innes more often then he would:
His faire complexion now is pale and withered,
Much like the Rose that yesterday was gathered.

With this mishap was Fdustus sore aggrieued,
Not onely for his brothers wofull state,
But fearing of his Prince to be reproued,
Vnto whose grace he vndertooke so late,
To shew the goodliest man, as he beleeued,
Now growne vncouth, by force of inward bate:
Yet as they could, their way they so contriued,
That at the last in Pauie they arriued.

He would not straightway shew him to the King,
Lest eu'ry one might deeme his iudgement small,
But sent by letters notice of the thing,
And what mishap his brother was befall;
How scant aliue he could him thither bring,
A secret griefe so greatly did him gall,
And with an agew puld him downe so sore,
He seemd not now the man he was before.

And yet behold this noble King is glad,
That he is come, and meanes to make him cheare,
As if he were the dearest friend he had,
So sore he had desird to see him heare;
Nor would the worthy naturd Prince be sad,
In praise of beautie to haue found a Peare;
He knew Iocundos beautie had excelled,
But that by this disease it was expelled.

He placeth him to his owne lodging nie,
He visits him each day and eu'ry houre,
Great plentie of prou[…]sio nhe doth buy,
To welcome him he bendeth all his powre:
But still Iocundo languishing doth lie,
His wiues misdeeds makes all his sweet seeme sowre,
No songs, no sights, which oft he heard or saw,
One dram of this his dolour could withdraw.

Fast by his lodging was, amongst the rest,
A faire large roome, which very few did vse,
Here would he walke, as one that did detest
All pleasing sights, and comforts all refuse:
Here the wide wound he bare within his brest,
With thousand thoughts vnpleasant he renews;
Yet here he found, which few would haue belieued,
A remedy for that which had him grieued.

For at the vpper end of this old hall,
There was a place of windowes voyd, and light,
Saue that the lime new moulten from the wall,
Let in a little beame that shined bright,
Here did he see, which some may thinke a tale,
A very strange and vnexpected sight,
He heard it not, but saw it in his vew,
Yet could he scant beleeue it should be trow.

For at the chinke was plainly to be seene,
A chamber hangd with faire and rich aray,
Where none might come but such as trusty beene,
The Princesse here in part doth spend the day,
And here he saw a Dwarfe embrace the Queene,
And striue a while, and after homely play:
His skill was such, that ere they went asunder,
The Dwarfe was got aloft, and she lay vnder.

Iocundo standeth still as one amazed,
Supposing sure that he had seene a vision,
But seeing plaine when he a while had gazed,
It was an act, and not an apparition:
Good God (said he) are this Queenes eyes so dazed,
To loue a dwarfe, more worthy of derision?
Whose husband is a Prince of worthy fame,
So braue a man, such loue? now fie for shame.

He now began to hold his wife excused,
His anger now a little was relented:
And though that she her bodie had abused,
And to her seruant had so soone consented;
Not her for this, but he the sex accused,
That neuer can with one man be contented;
If all (quoth he) with one like staine are spotted,
Yet on a monster, mine was not besotted.

The day ensuing he returned thither,
And saw the dwarfe couragious still and iolly;
Eke he another day repaired hither,
And still he found the Queene committing folly:
He oft returnes, he finds them oft together,
They cease not worke, on dayes prophane nor holy:
Yea which was strange, the goodly Queen cōplained
That of the dwarfe she found she was disdained.

One day when in the corner he had stayd,
He sees her come all sad and malcontent,
Because the dwarfe his comming still delayd,
For whom of purpose twise before she sent,
Once more she sends, this answer brings the mayd,
Forsooth vnto his play he is so bent,
That for mistrust at Chesse to leese a shilling,
To come to you the apes face is not willing.

Iocundo, who before had still bene sad,
Vpon this sight became of better cheare;
The paines, the plaints, the cloudie stormes he had,
Away were blowne, the coast began to cleare:
Most ruddie faire he chearfull grew and glad,
That angellike his beautie did appeare,
So as the King and others thought it strange,
In so short time to find so great a change.

Now as the King desired much to know,
The meane whereby his hurt so soone was healed,
No lesse Iocundo did desire to show,
And would not haue the thing from him concealed,
So as his choller might no greater grow,
Then his had beene, when as it were reuealed:
But first he made him sweare on his saluation,
Vpon the parties to vse no castigation.

He made him sweare, for ought he heard or saw,
Wherewith his mind might fortune be diseased,
Yet from his choller so much to withdraw,
As that in shew he may not seeme displeased,
Nor punish it by might nor yet by law,
Not first nor last, but hold himselfe appeased,
So as th'offenders might not haue suspected,
That their misdeeds were to his grace detected.

The King so sure, by oth so solemne bound,
As one that little thought his Queene so stained,
Iocundo first his owne griefe doth expound,
Why he so long so dolefull had remained,
And in whose armes his owne wife he had found,
And how the griefe thereof so sore him pained,
Had not that salue vplookt for bene applied,
Of that conceit no doubt he should haue died.

But lying in your highnesse house forlorne,
I saw (quoth he) that minisht much my mone;
For though it grieued me to weare a home,
It pleasd me well, I ware it not alone:
This said, he brought him where the wall was torne,
And shewd him that, that made his heart to grone,
For why the dwarfe did mannage with such skill,
Though she curuets, he keeps his stirrop still.

Much did the King this foule prospect mislike,
Beleeue my word I say, I need not sweare,
Horne wood he was, he was about to strike
All those he met, and his owne flesh to teare;
His promise to haue broken he was like,
If of his oth he had not had some feare;
But vnreuenged all must now be borne,
For on his Agnus Dei he had sworne.

Now to Iocundo gently he doth speake,
Good brother mine, aduise me what to do,
Sith I am bound by oth I may not wreake
The fact, with such reuenge as longs thereto;
Forsooth let's trie if others be as weake,
(Iocundo said) and make no more ado:
This was the counsell he did giue the King,
Into their order other men to bring.

We both are yong, and of such pleasing hew,
Not to be matcht with such another paire;
What she will be so obstinatly true,
But will be wonne with youth, and being faire?
If youth and beautie both do misse their due,
The want herein our purses shall repaire:
Let vs not spare our beautie, youth and treasure,
Till of a thousand we haue had our pleasure.

To see strange countries placed farre apart,
Of other women eke to make some triall,
Will ease the paine that whilom pierst our hart,
And salue out sore, there can be no deniall:
The King that longd to ease his new found smart,
Consented straight, and to auoid espiall,
Himselfe, the Knight, two pages, and no mo,
Out of the Realme forthwith disguised go.

Away they past through Italy and France,
And though the Flemish and the English land,
And those whose beauties highest did aduance,
Those still they found most ready to their hand:
They giue, they take, so luckie is their chance,
They see their stocke at one stay still to stand:
Some must be woode forsooth they were so chast,
And some there were that wooed them as fast.

In countries some a month or two they tarried,
In some a weeke, in others but a day;
In all of them they find the women married,
Like to their wiues, too gentle to say nay:
At last, because they doubt to haue miscarried,
They meane to leaue this sport and go their way;
They found it full of danger and debate,
To keepe their standings in anothers gate.

They do agree to take by common voyce,
Some one whose shape and face may please them both,
In whom without suspect they might reioyce;
For wherefore (quoth the King) should I be loth,
To haue your selfe a partner in my choyce?
I must haue one, and I beleeue for troth,
Among all women kind there is not one,
That can content her selfe with one alone.

But of some one, we two might take our pleasure,
And not inforce our selues beyond our ease,
But as they say, take meate and drinke, and leasure,
And by our doings, other not displease;
Well might that woman thinke she had a treasure,
That had vs two, her appetite to please;
And though to one man faithfull none remaine,
No doubt but faithfull they would be to twaine.

The Roman youth much praisd the Princes mind,
And to performe it, seemed very faine,
Away they posted as they had assignd,
By towne and citie, ouer hill and plaine,
Till at the last a pretie peece they find,
The daughter of an Inkeeper in Spaine,
A girle of person tall, and faire of fauour,
Of comely presence, and of good behauour.

She was new entring in the flower and pride,
Of those well pleasing youthfull yeares and tender,
Her father many children had beside,
And pouertie had made his portion slender,
And for them all vnable to prouide,
It made him soone consent, away to send her;
The price agreed, away the strangers carry her,
Because the father money wants to marry her.

In concord great she did with them remaine,
Who tooke their pleasure one and one by turne,
As bellows do, where Vulcans wonted paine,
By mutuall blast doth make the mettall burne:
Their meaning is, now they had traueld Spaine,
By Siphax realme to make their home returne;
And hauing left Valenza out of sight,
At faire Zatiua they did lodge at night.

The masters go abrode to view the towne,
And first the Churches for deuotions sake;
And then the monuments of most renowne,
As trauellers a common custome take:—
The girle within the chamber sate her downe,
The men are busied, some the beds do make,
Some care to dresse their wearid horse, and some
Make ready meate against their masters come.

In this same house the girle a Greeke had spide,
That in her fathers house a boy had beene,
And slept full often sweetly by her side,
And much good sport had passed them betweene;
Yet fearing lest their loue should be descride,
In open talke they durst not to be seene,
But when by hap the pages downe were gone,
Old loue renewd, and thus they talke thereon.

The Greeke demaunds her whither she was going,
And which of these two great estates her keeps?
She told them all, she needs no further woing,
And how a night betweene them both she sleeps:
Ah (quoth the Greeke) thou tellest my vndoing,
My deare Fiametta, and with that he weeps;
With these two Lords wilt thou from Spain be banished?
Are all my hopes thus into nothing vanished?

My sweet designements turned are to sower,
My seruice long, finds little recompence;
I made a stocke according to my power,
By hoording vp my wages, and the pence
That guests did giue, that came in luckie hower;
I meant ere long to haue departed hence,
And to haue askt thy fires good will to marry thee,
And that obtaind, vnto a house to carry thee.

The wench of her hard fortune doth complaine,
And saith that now she doubts he sues too late:
The Greeke doth sigh and sob, and part doth faine,
And shall I die (quoth he) in this estate?
Let me enioy thy sweetnesse once againe,
Before my dayes draw to their dolefull date[…]
One small refreshing ere we quite depart,
Will make me die with more contented hart.

The girle with pittie moued, thus replies,
Thinke not (quoth she) but I desire the same;
But hard it is, among so many cies,
Without incurring punishment and shame.
Ah (quoth the Greeke) some meanes thou wouldst deuise,
If thou but felt a quarter of my flame,
To meet this night in some conuenient place,
And be together but a little space.

Tush (answerd she) you sue now out of season,
For eu'ry night I lie betwixt them two,
And they will quickly feare and find the treason,
Sith still with one of them I haue to do.
Well (quoth the Greeke) I could refute that reason,
If you would put your helping hand thereto,
You must (said he) some pretie scuse deuise,
And find occasion from them both to rise.

She first bethinks her selfe, and after bad
He should returne when all were found asleepe,
And learned him, who was thereof right glad,
To go and come, what order he should keepe.
Now came the Greeke as he his lesson had,
When all was husht, as soft as he could creepe,
First to the doore, which opend when he pushed,
Then to the chamber, which was softly rushed.

He takes a long and leisurable stride,
And longest on the hinder foote he staid,
So soft he treds, although his steps were wide,
As though to tread on eggs he were afraid;
And as he goes, he gropes on either side,
To find the bed, with hands abroad displaid,
And hauing found the bottome of the bed,
He creepeth in, and forward go'th his head.

Betweene Fiamettas tender thighes he came,
That lay vpright, as readie to receaue,
At last they fell vnto their merry game,
Embracing sweetly now to take their leaue;
He rode in post, […]e can he baite for shame,
The beast was good, and would not him deceaue,
He thinks her pace so easie and so sure,
That all the night to ride he could endure.

Iocundo and the King do both perceaue
The bed to rock, as oft it comes to passe,
And both of them one error did deceaue,
For either thought it his companion was:
Now hath the Greeke taken his latter leaue,
And as he came, he back againe doth passe,
And Phebus beames did now to shine begin,
Fiametta rose and let the pages in.

Now with Iocundo gan the King to iest,
Brother (quoth he) I doubt we do you wrong,
It were more time for you to take your rest,
That haue this night a iourney rode so long.
Iocundo answers him againe in iest,
Oh for you do mistake, you sing my song;
Take you your ease, and much good do your grace,
That all this night haue rid a hunting pace.

I, quoth the King? I would in faith I sweare,
Haue lent my dog a course among the rest,
But that I found your selfe so busie were,
And rode so hard, you could not spare the beast.
Well (said the Knight) it seemeth me to beare,
Although you breake your promise and behest,
Yet priuie quips and taunts there needed none,
You might haue bid me let the wench alone.

One vrg'd so farre, the tother so replide,
That vnto bitter words their tongues were moued,
Scarce one forba[…]e to say the tother lide;
And plaine to trie whose truth should be reproued,
They cald the girle, the matter to decide,
Who was afraid, as well't her behoued;
And she must tell, they standing face to face,
Which of them two deserued this disgrace.

Tell (quoth the King) with grim and angry sight,
Not feare not him nor me, but tell vs true,
Which of vs two it was, that all this night
So gallantly performed all his due.
Thus either deeming he did hold the right,
They looked both, which should be found vntrue:
Fiametta lowly layd her selfe on ground,
Doubting to die because her fault was found.

She humbly pardon cranes for her offence,
And that they pittie would her wofull case,
That she with pittie mou'd to recompence
His loue, that lasted had no little space,
And who it was, she told them, and of whence,
Had this ill luck in this vnluckie place,
How she had hop'd that though they hapt to wake,
Yet for his partner either would it take.

The King and his companion greatly mused,
When they had heard the practise so detected,
And their conceits not little were confused,
To heare a hap so strange and vnexpected:
And though no two were euer so abused,
Yet had they so all wrathfull mind reiected,
That downe they lay, and fell in such a lafter,
They could not see nor speake an houre after.

And when at last their stomacks and their eies
Waterd and akt, they laughed had so much,
Such shifts (quoth they) these women will deuise,
Do what we can, their chastitie is such:
If both our cares could not for one suffice,
That lay betwixt vs both, and did vs tuch,
If all our haires were eyes, yet sure they said,
We husbands of our wiues should be betraid.

We had a thousand women prou'd before,
And none of them denied our request,
Nor would and if we tride ten thousand more,
But this one triall passeth all the rest:
Let vs not then condemne our wiues so sore,
That are as chast and honest as the best,
Sith they be as all other women be,
Let vs turne home, and well with them agree.

When on this point they both were thus resolued,
They gaue the Greeke, Fiametta for his wife,
And tide the knot that cannot be dissolued,
With portion large, to keepe them all their life:
Themselues went home, and had their sins absolued,
And take againe their wiues, and end all strife.
And thus mine Host the pretie storie ended,
With which he prayth them not to be offended.

The Pagan Prince, of whom I erst made mention,
Was pleased with this storie passing well,
And heard the same with heed and great attention,
And praised it, and said it did excell,
And sweares he thought no wit nor no inuention,
No pen could write, no tongue attaine to tell,
By force of eloquence, or helpe of art,
Of womens trecheries the hundredth part.

But at the table sat another guest,
Of riper yeares, and iudgement more discreet,
Who such vntruths to heare could not digest,
And see their praises so trod vnder feet;
Wherefore his speech he presently addrest
Vnto his host, and said, we dayly meet
With slaunders, and with lying fables told,
And this is one, to say I dare be bold.

Nor thee, nor him that told thee, trust I will,
No though in other things he gospell spake,
I dare affirme it well, that euill will,
Not any triall that himselfe could make,
Mou'd him of all the kind to speake so ill,
Belike for some one naughtie womans sake:
But he that would enter in womens praise,
On higher steps aloft his stile might raise.

But tell me now, if any one of you
That married are, haue not awrie yet stept?
No scarse a man, that hath not been vntrew,
And with some other woman hath not slept:
Nay that is more, they woo, they seeke, they sew,
They trie, they tempt those that be safest kept,
Yet women seeke not after men I ween,
(I meane not such as common harlots been.)

Surely the man on whom your tale you father,
Cannot himselfe, nor other men excuse,
Who still to take an vnknowne peece had rather,
Although there owne, were better far to chuse:
But if themselues were wood, I surely gather,
Such courtesies, they neuer would refuse,
But rather straine themselues beyond their might,
Such kindnes, with more kindnes to requite.

But be't some woman breaks chast wedlocks laws,
And leaues her husband, and becomes vnchast,
Yet commonly it is not without cause,
She sees her man, in sin his substance wast;
She feels that he, his loue from her withdraws,
And hath on some (perhap) lesse worthie plast,
Who striks with sword, the scabberd thē may strike,
And sure loue craueth loue, like asketh like.

Indeed in their behalfe, agree would I,
That all wiues that adulterie do commit,
Should by a law, condemned be to die,
If so their husbands guiltles be of it.
But if that men vnpunisht walke awry,
Doubtles in sence and reason tis not fit,
The weaker sex should for this sin be vext,
Do as you would be done to, saith the text.

Yet when a man is bent to speake his worst,
That in despite he can of women say,
He cals them but incontinent and curst,
No greater fault, he to their charge can lay:
To rob, to spoile, houses to breake and burst,
Whole Cities, townes, and countries to betray,
Vsu[…]e, murder, all such sinnes appeare,
Proper to men, women of them are cleare.

This said this graue wise man, and would haue told
Some storie to the same, his speech to verifie,
Of women that had liu'd till they were old,
Chastlie and vertuouslie, and with sinceritie,
But that the cruell Turke, did him behold,
With so grim looke as did the poore man terrifie,
And made him hold his peace with threats & terror,
Yet hating inwardly the Pagans error.

These brables ended, night on them did creep,
To rest they went hauing their bodies fed:
But Rodomont scant all the night could sleep,
For cares, that ran still in his troubled hed,
His vnkind mistres him doth waking keep,
She troubles him, whether he lye on bed,
Whether he go, or ride, or sit, or stand,
Whether it be, by water or by land.

But though himselfe could take but little rest,
Yet of his horse he takes no little care,
Both that he should be diligently drest,
And haue good prouander, to mend his fare:
To go by water now he thought it best,
Himselfe to ease, and his good horse to spare,
That horse he gat, as he might iustlie vant,
Spite of Rogero, and of Sacrapant.

He takes a barke, and downe the pleasant streame
Of Sonna he doth passe, with winde and ore,
Great hast he makes, to get to his owne Reame,
But changing place doth helpe him neare the more;
In sleepe, of her vnkindnes he doth dreame,
A wake, he sighs and still renews the sore:
To talke was best, and yet not much the better,
Say what he list, yet cannot he forget her.

Anoyd by bote, againe he taking land,
Vienna, Lions, and Valenza past,
(All which then were in Agramantes hand,
His late good hap, had so them all agast:
To Aquamort, he turns on his right hand,
And thence he will to Algier turne in hast,
And in his way, his iourney to abridge,
He past Auignon, at the sumptuous bridge.

Not far from Mompelier a towne he saw,
Of Bacchus, and of Ceres well beloued.
Though then so spoild by souldiers that for aw,
The dwellers all, themselues […]ro thence remoued:
Also there was a Church for Christen law,
But yet the Priests (in this to be reproued)
To saue thēselues, their Church had quite forsaken,
So as the same by Rodomont was taken.

This seat this place, did so the Pagan please,
That here he mind: to make his firme abode;
For of the tone side, he might see the seas,
On tother side, the ground with corne well lode;
Here all prouisions he might finde with ease,
Here he doth cause his men his stuffe vnlode,
And makes that Church (oh horrible abute)
Serue him, to his profane vngodly vse.

Now standing pensiue, in this pleasing place,
As still he vsd, he saw a Ladie faire,
(Though mourning, yet most ful of pleasing grace)
Who with a Frire, made thither her repaire:
A goodly horse, they led a soft flow pace,
And as they went, he taught her many a praire:
That horse did beare a coffin on his backe,
All ouerspred in mourning sort, with blacke.

Me thinke by this description you may guesse,
Who this same Frire, and who this damtell is,
Yet for more plainesse sake, I will expresse
Her name, lest any may the matter misse:
Twas Isabella, who did late professe,
That state that leadeth strait to heau'nlie blisse,
He was the Frire, that to that mind conuerted her,
When as dispaire, had almost quite subuerted her.

Within the mourning coffin was enclosed,
His corse, whom she so lou'd aliue and dead,
And though to griefe she seemed all disposed,
Though all in blacke, she went from foot to head,
Yet in that wofull shew there was disclosed,
So worthie grace, as in the Pagan bred
A fancie, mouing such an alteration,
As made him change his first determination.

For where before he did dispraise and scorne
All women, now againe he doth commend
That sex, that doth indeed the world adorne:
His second loue to place he doth intend
On this, sith that his first hath him forlorne;
Here now he hopeth all his wo to end,
And with this passion to driue out the tother,
As men do driue out one naile with another.

And straight in mildest manner that he can,
Saluting her, he askt what cauld her paine?
And she the wofull tale to tell began,
How her true loue by Mandricard was slaine,
For whose sake she would neuer marrie man,
But serue God all her life that doth remaine,
The Pagan laughs at that the damsell faith,
As one that knows no God, and hath no faith.

And greatly he her good intent controld,
Affirming her to merit as great blame,
As doth the miser, that hoords vp his gold,
And neither doth himselfe imploy the same,
And yet from those that would, doth it withhold:
So shut not vp your selfe (quoth he) for shame;
Fierce Lions, Bears, and serpents that haue stings,
Should be shut vp, not faire and harmlesse things.

The godly Frire, that tooke no little care,
Lest this ill speech might turne her to small good,
With new exhortings, bad her to be ware,
That such intisements strongly be withstood:
And for that end, forthwith he doth prepare,
A sumptuous messe of ghostly inward food:
But this vile Pagan did no sooner tast it,
But vp againe, his squemish stomacke cast it.

And seeing that the speeches of this Frire,
(Whō he could make by no means hold his peace)
Seemd greatly to contrarie his desire;
Wrath kindled, and at last did so increase,
That this poore priest gat but a forie hire.
But he are a while my storie now shall cease,
Lest my mishap or punishment be such,
As was this Priests, for talking ouermuch.