Canto 43

O Curst, ô greedie, ô vnsaciable
Desire of gaine, I do not maruell sure,
If thou the base and filthy minds art able,
To cause to stoope vnto thy carren lure,
Sith oft we see some persons honorable,
Can scarce thy weake and base assaults endure,
Who if they could thy foule entisements shun,
No doubt but they great glory should haue won.

Some men can measure earth, and sea, and sky,
And tell the change and cause of eu'ry season,
And wade so farre with wit, or mount so hy,
They search both heau'n & hel with depth of reason
But when thou com'st in place, then by and by,
Thou putst their daintie tasts so out of season,
They place their whole delight, their hope, their health
In only scraping and in heaping wealth.

Another man in warres hath great renowne,
And gets the conquest in each bloudie strife,
And wins this fortresse, and that walled towne,
Opposing his stout brest to perils rife,
Thou onely conquerst him, and thrusts him downe,
And keepest him thy prisner all his life:
Some men, excelling in each art and studdie,
Thou doest obscure, with base desires and muddie.

What should I speake of dames of worth not small,
That hauing louers, men of great desarts,
Oppose their honours, as a brasen wall,
Against their suits with vnrelenting harts?
But come some miser, base deformed squall,
That saue his riches, hath no worthy parts,
They breake the wall, and make therein a gap,
To take the showre that fell in Danaes lap.

Nor without cause hereof complaine do I,
Take me that can, for I do rightly take it,
Nor from my matter do I swarue awrie,
Or by a vaine digression do for sake it:
Yet to my former speach I not applie,
But tending to a future tale I spake it:
Now let me tell you of Renaldo first,
That with one draught wold swage his double thirst

But whether that his courage did him faile,
Or that on more aduise, he changed minde,
He thought and said, what should it one auaile,
To seeke a thing he would be loth to finde?
My wife a woman is, their sex is fraile,
I yet am to beleeue the best enclinde;
I know I cannot better my beliefe,
And if I change it, it will be my griefe.

What good may come by such a straight espy all,
Into my sences surely cannot sinke,
Much hurt may come, there can be no denyall,
Let nothing seuer those whom God doth linke:
Wherefore to make so vnaccustomd triall,
Were sinne, and tempting God as I do thinke:
Then drinke this cup, (quoth he) that lift, not I,
I am not, nor I minde not to be drie.

God would such skill from mortall men be hid,
And eu'n as Adam wrought his ouerthrow,
By tasting fruit, that God did him forbid,
So he that curiously will search to know,
All that his wife hath said, or what she did,
May fortune at the last himselfe beshrow:
And shall confound himselfe (this thinke I verily)
And liue in sorrow, that did erst liue merily.

Thus much said good Renaldo, and withall
He thrust away that hatefull cup of wine,
And then he saw of teares, a streame not small,
Flow from the master of that house his eyne:
Which past, he said, now foule may them befall,
That first procurd this miserie of mine:
To proue (which I shall sorrow all my life)
That, which berest me of my dearest wife.

Why was not I (said he) with you acquainted,
Ten yeares ere this, to take aduise so sound,
Before my heart was thus with sorrow tainted,
Of which no ease can now, nor end be found:
But that you may, as in a table painted,
Behold my griefes, I will to you expound,
What cauld this mine vncomparable woe,
And then you sure will pittie me I know.

Not farre from hence you left a little towne,
About the which there runnes a prettie lake,
That fals into this streame of great renowne,
But from Banaco first his head doth take,
Erected when those walls were beaten downe,
That erst Agenors dragon there did make;
There was I borne of house and stocke not base,
Though of meane wealth inferiour to my race.

But though to me dame Fortune was but spare,
That by my birth small wealth to me there grew,
Yet Nature did with bountie great and care,
Supply that want, by faire and comely hew,
My seemly personage, my beautie rare,
To me the liking of full many drew:
My qualities thereto, were quaint and iollie,
Although I know to praise ones selfe is follie.

Within this towne a great rich man did tarrie,
Well learnd, and wise, and old beyond all credit,
For ere he dide, he on his backe did earrie,
Full sixscore yeares and eight at least, he sed it:
An hundred yeares he liued solitarie,
But after that (you know what humor bred it)
He lou'd a dame, and with his wealth so wrought her
That at the last he gat of her a daughter,

And least the daughter should proue like the mother,
To sell her chastiue for filthie pelfe,
Which whosoeuer sels, it quite vndoth her,
Although she thinks she doth enrich her selfe,
Therefore he bred her farre from sight of other,
And by the helpe of many a hellish elfe,
Which by his skill in Magicke, he could master,
He built this house of Tutch and Allablaster.

He caused chast old women, her to nourish
In this same house, in which she grew so faire,
And in those yeares when youth doth chiefly florish,
He let not any thither to repaire,
That were in looks, or speech, or manners whorish,
But contrary, he causd in Marble faire,
Or else on tables to be drawne and carued,
All such whose chastities had praise desarued.

Nor onely such as haue in ancient times,
Bene patterns true of manners chast and pure,
And haue opposd against all fleshly crimes,
Most chast and vertuous thoughts (a buckler sure)
By which their name to such high honor climes,
As their great praise shall euermore indure:
But such as shall excell in times to come,
Of which those eight, that erst you saw be some.

Now when this aged sire had with his skill,
Procur'd his daughter be thus choisely bred,
It was my hap, (shall I say good or ill?)
That I was deemd most worthy her to wed;
And that old man bare her so great good will,
He gaue to me this house thus furnished,
With needfull things within it and without it,
And all the lands in twentie mile about it,

But her owne shape, so pleasd my heart and eyne,
That for the rest I did but little care,
For needle workes, and for embrodries fine,
I thinke her skill with Pallas might compare;
To heare her play or sing, a thing deuine
It was, her stroke so sweete, her voyce so rare:
In other sciences, her skill was such,
As was her fathers, or almost as much.

Great was her wit, no lesse then wit, her fauour,
As might in senslesse stones affection moue,
To this she had a sweete and kind behauour,
As more then all the rest ingendred loue,
It seem'd her sole delight was in my fauour,
Out of my sight, she was most loth to moue:
So liued I, and still had liued so,
But that my selfe did worke my selfe this wo.

For when her father finisht had his life,
Full fiue yeares after I had got his daughter,
Then grew the causes of this wofull strife,
That vnto sorrow turneth all my laughter;
For when I doted most vpon my wife,
And of the world the chiefest iewell thought her,
A dame of noble birth, of person seemely,
Did hap to fall in loue with me extreemly.

This dame, for passing skill in Magicke art,
Was comparable to the best Magicion,
But yet for all her skill, my constant hart,
She could not moue nor turne on no condition:
To cure her malladie, or ease her smart,
I still refused to be her Phisition,
Because, the med'cin that of me she sought,
As iniurie vnto my wife I thought.

Yet was her bewtie much, I must confesse,
And great her offers she to me did make,
Beside the loue she did to me professe,
Would moue a man some care of her to take;
But my wiues loue, did me so firme possesse,
I all reiected, onely for her sake,
And that which most to her my liking drew,
Was that I found her still so kind and trew.

The good opinion, and the strong surmise,
I had of my wiues chastitie and truth,
Would without doubt, haue made me to despise
The Dame, whose bewtie bred to Troy such ruth,
And all the wealth, though laid before mine eyes,
That Iuno offerd to the Troian youth,
Yet my refusall, and her oft repulses,
No part of her great loue, from her expulses.

Melissa, so was this inchantresse name,
Perceiuing still in vaine to me she sewed,
Once finding me at leysure, to me came,
And in most cunning sort, her suit renewed,
And secretly she kindled iealous flame
Within my brest, which oft I since haue rued.
She saith, I do but well so true to be
Vnto my wife, if she were so to me.

But how know you (saith she) your wife is trew,
That of her faith as yet no proofe haue made,
You neuer let her go scant from your vew,
When none can come to vice her to perswade,
Nor none can see her, none to her can sew,
Tis easie to resist where none inuade,
To praise her truth vntride, is too much hast,
Your care, and not her vertue keeps her chast.

But get you but from home some little while,
That men to sue to her might take occasion,
And thinking you are absent many a mile,
With letters and with gifts to make inuasion,
And then if you shall finde in her no guile,
Except she yeeld to gifts, and to perswasion,
So she haue hope to do it vnespied
Then thinke your wife is chast, when that is tryed.

With these and such like words th'Inchantresse sly,
Did make me do that hath me vndonne,
By name, to giue consent my wife to try,
If so she could by such assaults be wonne:
But how shall I be well assur'd (said I)
To know at my returne, what she hath donne,
And whether she, with these so great assayes,
Haue at my hands deserued blame or prayse.

Forsooth (saith she) I will on you bestow,
A drinking bowle, not much vnlike that cup,
With which Morgana made her brother know,
Genewras fraud, when he thereon did sup.
Who drinks hereof, his wiues truth plaine shal know
If she be chast, he drinks the liquor vp,
But if a cuckold to carrowse doth thinke,
He sheddeth in his bosome all the drinke.

Now ere you go, the cup I wish you tast,
And you shall drinke, perhaps and shall not spill,
Because as yet, I thinke your wife is chast,
As neuer being tempted vnto ill:
But try againe when as a month is past,
And you shall see I trow, a prettie skill,
For then I grant, that if you drinke it cleanly,
Aboue all men, you blessed are not meanly.

I tooke her offer, and I tooke the say,
Of that same cursed cup, with sweete successe,
I find my wife vnspotted to that day,
As I my selfe was sure, and she did guesse:
Now straight (quoth she) to part from hence away,
For one or two months space, your selfe addresse,
Then try at your returne, how you haue sped,
If you drinke cleane, or if the drinke you shed.

But now this parting such a penance seemed,
As I in deed could by no meanes endure,
Not that of my deare wife, I ought misdeemed,
For her of all the rest, I thought cocksure;
But that her company I so esteemed:
Well then (Melissa saith) I will procure,
If you will do, but what I shall you teach,
That you shall change your cloths, your shape, and speach.

And so you shall your selfe to her present,
And make your selfe a plaine and perfect proofe.
I foolishlie to this deuice assent,
And so it hapt that hence, not farre aloofe,
A knight of large reuenue and of rent,
Dwelt at Giabana, fit for this behoofe,
His personage was braue, his purse well lyned,
His years but young, to Venus all inclyned.

That gallant youth had one day bene a halking,
His hawke by hap, into my garden flew,
He comming thither, found my wife a walking,
And much he likt her, at the very vew;
But when he had a while with her bene talking,
To burning loue, his warme affection grew,
That after that, full many wayes he prou'd her,
If his request to grant, he could haue mou'd her.

But hauing still such short and sharpe repulses,
He meanes no more, in that fond suit to wade,
But from his thought, her shape he not expulses,
That first to giue the bold attempt him made;
So well Melissa knew to touch my pulses,
To take his forme, she doth me soone perswade,
I straight was chang'd I know not how nor wheare,
In face, in clothes, in speech, in eyes, in heare.

Now hauing to my wife a tale deuisd,
As though to th'East I then my iourny tooke,
And being like this youth, so strange disguisd:
In gate, in voyce, apparell, and in looke,
I came as sly Melissa me aduisd,
And she did like my Page or Lackie looke,
Vpon her arme she beares a little flasket,
In which, of iewells rich she hid a casket.

I that well knew each roome, came in securely,
Into the house, my Page and I together;
There where my Ladie sate alone demurely,
For neither groome as then, nor maid was with her
Then I expound my suit, and that more surely
She might bele[…]ue my words, I needs would giue her,
Pearls Rubies, Dyamonds of passing price,
The wicked baites, to draw good minds to vice.

I bad she should esteeme this gift but small
To that she might of me in time exspect:
I said, her husbands absence fit did fall,
And wisedome bids occasions not neglect:
I prayd her weigh my constant loue withall,
Which long had lasted, though without effect,
And last, I sware I had some grace deserued,
That had so long, that had so truly serued.

At first she blusht, and lookt with lowring cheare,
And would not hearken, but did still retire,
Lutth 'Orient Pearls, and stones that shon so cleare,
Did mollifie her heart, to my desire:
She softly saith, but so as I might heare,
That for the thing, which I so oft require,
She grant it would, and would on me bestow it,
So she were sure that none beside might know it.

This answer was to me a poysond dart,
To strike my soule, in desperat disease,
And straight my heart, my head, and eu'rie part,
I felt a frozen iealousie to sease:
And presently Melissa by her art,
Restor'd my shape (as she could do with ease.)
How lookt my wife (think you) when by my trapping
She found herselfe thus foulie taken napping.

We both do looke like ashes, pale and wan,
We both stood dum, we both cast downe our eye,
Scarse able was my voyce (do what I can)
To serue my turne, while I did thinke to cry:
Then wouldst thou wife vnto another man,
Mine honour sell, if he the same could by?
She held her peace, and answer made me none,
But onely wept and made a piteous mone.

The shame was much, but much more the disdaine,
That of my foolish vsage tane she hath,
Within due bonds she could not it containe,
But that it brake to spite, to hate, to wrath:
Resolu'd with me no longer to remaine,
When Phebus charret trode his Westerne path,
That euening in a small barge of her owne,
Downe streame she swimmeth, as if she had flowne.

Betimes next day she doth vnto that knight,
Herselfe present, that her before had loued,
In whose disguised shape, I her last night,
Both gainst mine owu, and gainst her honor proued
You well may iudge it was a welcome fight
To him, that long before such suit had moued,
From thence she sends to me this message plaine,
That she would neuer come at me againe.

Ah woe was me, for from that houre to this,
She bydes with him, where me they lout and scorne,
And I that could not see my sugred blys,
Now by forgoing it, am quite forlorne;
Nor can I say but iust my penance is,
Which still growes more, and will till I be worne,
And sure one yeare, of life had quite berest me,
Saue for one onely comfort that was left me.

This onely comfort brought me some releefe,
That for the space of ten yeares, all my guests,
(Though many of their wiues had great beleefe)
Yet still they shed the drinke vpon their brests:
To finde so many partners in my greefe,
Asswageth much the paine that me molests,
Your onely selfe hath bene the onely stranger,
That hath refusd a draught of so great danger.

My ouermuch desire to sist my wife,
In so precise, and in so straight a sort,
Doth cause that now I shall not all my life,
Liue on good houre, endure it long or short
Glad was Melissa that procurde this strife,
But soone I turnd and marred all her sport,
For finding she, was of my harme procurer,
I hated her, and could no more endure her.

But she that finds herselfe disdained mearly,
Where she had hoped to haue found reward,
And me, whom she profest to loue so dearly,
Her loue and kindness nothing to regard,
The griefe hereof did […]uch her minde so nearly,
To leaue this countrey she forthwith prepard,
And euer since farre hence she is abyding,
Whereas of her, we heare no newes nor tiding.

Thus told the wofull knight, in dolefull wise,
This ruefull tale vnto his noble guest,
Who with compassion moued, thus replyes;
Melissa counsell certes was not best,
That did without discretion you aduise,
To anger waspes, or so to stirre their nest,
And you your selfe did greatly ouershoot you,
To seeke a thing, whose finding would not boot you

What maruell is it if your wife were wonne
With gifts, and were to lightnes soone alluered?
Is she the first (thinke you) that so hath donne?
No, nor the fiftith be you well assured,
Yea, minds full sound haue wanted powre to shunne
Such baites, and haue not such assaults endured:
Haue you not heard of men that haue for gold,
Their masters and their friends most dearest sold?

You should not with a dart so fierce assayle,
If her defend herselfe to see you sought,
What, know you not stone walls cannot auayle,
Nor steele, if gold be to the batt'ne brought?
Now sure your selfe of duetie more did fayle,
In tempting her, then she in being caught,
Perhaps if she had tempted you […]o sore,
Your folly would haue bene as much or more.

Thus spake Renaldo, and withall he rose,
And prayd he might be take him to his rest,
He minds a while himselfe there to repose,
And after to depart he doth request;
Small time he hath, and that he would dispose
With great regard, for so he thinks it best:
The gentle knight doth tel him when it please him
He may within his chamber rest and ease him.

But if you will vnto my counsell harke,
And that you haue (as you pretend) such hast,
I will appoint for you a little barke,
That shall with oares conuey you safe and fast,
There may you sleepe the while you find it darke,
And when your stomake serues you, take repast:
Thus may you, downe the streame in safety sliding,
Win one whole night, & saue a whole daies riding.

Renaldo this good offer doth accept,
And gaue him heartie thankes, then tooke his barge:
He found his host with him had promise kept,
And makes of needfull things prouision large:
No sooner was he setled, but he slept,
But yet before he gaue the stearman charge,
If that to sleepe too long it did befall him,
When he came neare Ferrara, then to call him.

Now did the knight of France in quiet sleepe,
And past by diuers townes of count the whiles,
And still the barge a pace most swift doth keepe,
Vpon that hand, where Poe make diuers Iles:
And now the Rosie colour gan to creepe
To th'Esterne skie, when hauing past some miles,
Bandano then the stearsman wakt Renaldo,
When they discouerd both rocks of Tealdo.

Whereon when as the knight his eye had fixt,
He saith, O happie place that I behold,
Of which, by vew of wandring starres and fixt,
My cosin Malagigis oft foretold,
How that by heau'nly doome it was prefixt,
On thee to lay such blessings manifold,
As that thy glorie to such height should rise,
Of Italie to hold the chiefest prise.

Thus good Renaldo spake, the while his bote
Downe that same streame did swim, or rather fly,
And when the knight came nearer he did note
The place, that seemed then all wast to ly,
And with a moorish water all on flote:
Yet did he much reioice thereof, for why,
He knew that that same towne in future time,
Ordained was to great renowne to clime.

His cosin Malagige and he whileare,
Had past that way, what time his cosin told,
That when the Ram had tane the golden spheare,
That fourth is plast in height, seau'n hundred fold,
Then should there be the brauest Iland theare,
That euer sea, or streame, or lake did hold,
So well replenished that none should dare,
With this Nausicas Iland to compare.

And that it should for building faire, disgrace
Tiberius Ile, that Capry they do call,
And that th'Helperides should giue it place,
For passing fruits, and sundrie sorts with all:
Beside, more store of beasts, for vse or chase,
Then Circes erst did keepe in field or stall,
That Venus with her sonne, and all the Graces,
Should chuse this seat, and leaue all other places.

And that a certaine Prince should this fulfill,
So prouident, so stout, so wise, so stayd,
As hauing powre vnited to his will,
Should with strong Rampires fence ye town (he said)
That foes should haue no force to worke her ill,
Nor she should neuer need of forraine aid:
And that the man by whom this must be donne,
Should be both Hercles Site, and Hercles sonne.

Thus while the knight of France with great delight,
Did call to mind, what should another day,
Vpon that happie Citie there alight,
His water-men did giue so lustie way,
That of the place he soone had left the sight,
And keeping on the right hand all the way,
They went beyond Saint Georges in an howre,
And passed by Giabanas ditch and Towre.

And now Renaldo, as doth oft befall,
That one conceipt another out doth driue,
Began the knight to memorie to call,
That last did him kind entertainment giue,
That had iust cause this City more then all
To hate, and should haue still while he did liue:
The cursed cup he further cald to minde,
In which men may their spouses falshood finde.

And last of his hosts later speech he thought,
Concerning that same cup, and how they sped,
I meane his guests, that that same triall sought,
Into their bosoms still the liquor shed:
Now he doth halfe repent he mist the draught,
Yet was he glad thereof, for why (he sed)
Had it falne well, what had I got thereby?
If not, in what a case had then benel?

I now beleeue so well, as hauing tried
With good successe beleeue I better should not;
So that I might haue well bene damnified,
But by my triall mend my state I could not:
But what griefe had it bene if I had spied,
By my most deare Clarice, that I would not?
Much may they leese, but gains get small or none,
That will in play a thousand lay to one:

These later words so lowd and plaine he […]pake,
(Though to himselfe) that he that steard the bote,
Who to his speech and gestures heed did take,
The words, and meaning of his words did note:
Wherefore a further cause of speech to make,
As one that though he ware a hu'rie cote,
Yet was well spoken, and of good bold sprite,
He straight doth fall to reason with the knight.

In fine, the summe of all their argument,
Was that his wit was much to be controld,
That sought to make too great experiment,
Of womens truths, more then their force can hold:;
For she that can with chast and firme intent,
Maintaine her truth, against assault of gold,
Might eu'n as easilie defend the same,
Against a thousand swords in midst of flame.

To this the Bargeman said, you sure may sweare it,
They must not be assayld with darts so fierce,
For their solt brests, too tender are to beare it,
Sith coats of sounder proofe, such shot will pierce:
And sure a prettie tale (if you would heare it)
I could (saith he) to this effect rehearse,
Of one who though his wife had sore offended,
By her, in greater sinne was apprehended.

I meane the tale of that Adonio, which
The great grift gaue vnto the Iudges wife,
A little dogge that made his owner rich,
A thing that in these parts is knowne so rife,
The knight replide, mine eares to heare it ich,
For neuer yet I heard it in my life:
Then if it please you, heare it now you shall,
The stears-man said, and thus began his tale.

There was a learned Lawyer, cald by name
Anselmus, borne here in our neighbour towne,
That so long studied Vlpian, till he came,
To be a Iudge, and weare a scarlet gowne,
And hauing won great wealth he woo'd a dame,
For bewtie and for state of great renowne;
They wedded were, for better and for worse,
So he her person lik't, so she his purse.

Her qualities and hauiour past the rest,
She seemed all of louelynes composed,
Not fit indeed for him, that was to rest,
And to his bookes, more then to sports disposed:
Wherefore foule iealous thoughts his mind possest,
And that his wife plaid false, he still supposed,
Yet cause was none, of her so to misdeeme,
Saue that too faire, and wittie she did seeme.

Now in the selfe same Citie dwelt a knight,
(Too neare a neighbour to this man of law)
That was of that same stocke descended right,
That had their ofspring from the serpents iaw,
From whence the Fairy eake, that Manto hight,
And built our Citie, doth her lynage draw,
This knight that was Adonio cald by name,
Was much enamord on the louely dame.

And that he might attaine this Ladies loue,
He doth begin to spend beyond all measure,
In clothes, in feasts, his calling far aboue,
In showes, in playes, to do his mistres pleasure:
To beare the charge thereof it would behoue,
To haue that Emperour Tiberius treasure,
So as I weene ere winters twaine were past,
His lands were quite consum'd, he spent so fast.

Wherefore compeld to strike his loftie sayles,
He sodainly surceast his stately port,
The house, now that the Lords reuenue fayles,
Stood solitarie, quite without resort:
There were no Feasants, Partriges, nor Quayles,
His pittance now was growne but bare and short,
And he that earst was king of all this feasting,
Playd least in sight, now doubting of arresting.

And therefore lothing to be knowne or seen,
He purposd in this place not long to tarrie,
But with a minde to leaue his country cleen,
He stale away fro thence all solitarie:
Her onely loue, that of his heart was Queen,
In all his woes he still with him doth carrie,
But lo, when as his Ebb did seeme most low,
Good fortune made his tyde most high to flow.

For as he wanderd here and there abroad,
He saw how that a sturdie clowne and stout,
With sturdie staffe, layd on no little load,
Vpon a bush, still beating there about:
Adonio in the place makes some aboad,
And ask the cause, of that same country lout,
Who told him that a monstrous snake and huge,
Had taken that same bush for a refuge.

And told him further, he that stir did make,
With minde to finde, and kill it ere he part.
Adonio for his crest did giue the Snake,
And therefore lou'd and fauord Snakes in hart,
As from whose kinde he did his gentrie take;
Wherefore vnto the clowne he doth impart
His minde so farre, at last he him perswaded,
To let alone the Snake he so inuaded.

This done, he went as he was bent before,
Farre from his country, where he was vnknown,
And so indur'd till seu'n whole yeares and more,
Of woe, and want, quite ore his head were blown:
But that great loue he to his mistres bore,
Him forst, though now all out of fashion grown,
With bushie beard, leane cheekes, & ragged cloths,
To turne vnto the place that most he lothes.

In this meane time, our towne had cause to send,
Some sage Ambassadour vnto the Pope,
That must vpon his Holynes attend,
And for his suit to take a whole yeare scope:
The Iudge by lot was chosen to that end,
(O cursed lot that killed all his hope)
To shunne this office he tryes many shifts,
By scuses, promises, by prai'rs and gifts.

But finding that he straue against the streame,
At last against his will, he takes the place,
Though to depart into another Reame,
It seemed vnto him, a grieuous case:
His iealousie there with grew most extreame,
Misdoubting his wiues truth, so long a space,
Yet nath'les her, in graue and frendlesse speech,
To haue great care thereof, he doth beseech.

He saith, a woman cannot take vpon her,
With bewtie, riches, nor with high Nobillitie,
To clayme the true diserued prayse of honer,
If chastitie do faile by her fragillitie,
This is the vertue that defends her owner,
And now she may (he saith) with great facillitie,
Attaine great praise, and show thereof great proofe,
While he is forst, to stay so farre aloofe.

These words he spake, and many such as thease,
Thereby to moue her, to continue true,
And she (poore soule) yet free from such disease,
His parting thence, did much lament and rue;
She swears that sooner men should draine the seas,
Then draw her mind so to forget her due,
Yea first she will eu'n dye the death she saith,
Much rather then to falsifie her faith.

The Iudge appeased with this her protestation,
Began to haue of her the lesse mistrust,
But yet his fond and iealous inclination,
So moues him, that search further needs he must:
He had a friend that could by coniuration,
Foretell of future matters true and iust:
That were it skill in Magicke, or in starres,
His guesse was such, as that it seldome arres.

He speaketh to that friend to this effect,
That he his wiues natiuitie would cast,
To learne if he did right or wrong suspect,
That she would in his absence liue vnchast:
The man thus praid, the figure doth erect,
And in their place the Planets all he plast,
Anselmus leaues him busie, and next day,
Doth come to heare him what he hath to say.

Twas long before th'Astronomer would speake,
As loth to speake, that would the Iudge offend,
With many scuses friuolous and weake,
He shifts him off, but vrged by his frend,
He told him flatly she would wedlocke breake,
And that she would to him proue false in th'end,
Not mou'd by bewty, not by suit desired,
But eu'n for lucres sake directly hyred.

Now when Anselmus former bad beleefe,
Was newly reconfirmd by Spheares supernall,
It doubtlesse did so much augment his greefe,
I thinke his torture past the paines infernall:
And more then all the rest, this greeu'd him cheefe,
And to his heart a corsiue was eternall,
To thinke that Auarice should her entise,
Vpon her chastitie to set a price.

Yet to preuent all that such minde might breed,
Most earnestly he bendeth all his powre,
For (as they say) man is compeld by need,
To rob the Church, and hallow'd things deuowre,
His iewells, plate, and stocke that did exceed,
He put all in her hands, that present howre,
And made it all her owne by deed of gift,
And told her plaine what was herein his drift.

He saith he giues it her on this condition,
Not that she should striue to increase or mend it,
For why (he said) she should haue free commission,
To sell, to giue, cast it away, and spend it,
But onely that she should auoyd suspisition,
Of wedlocke breach, and by no meanes offend it,
On this condition, all he then bequeaths her,
That he may find her such as now he leaues her.

He further doth her earnestly exhort,
That presently when he is gone away,
She should for more eschuing of resort,
Not any longer in the Citie stay,
But at his countrey house, where in good sort,
Till his returne the season passe she may:
Belike, he thought in tillers of the ground,
And country swaines, entisements none are found.

His louely wife Argia, all this space,
Still hanging on his necke while he did speake,
With kindly teares bedewed all his face,
And much it greeu'd her to be iudgd so weake,
And to be deemed so deuoyd of grace,
That in his absence she would wedlocke breake,
Her manners haue not bene so light and vicious,
She saith, to moue him to be thus suspitious.

I should too long in this one matter dwell,
If all that past betweene them two at large,
When he departed, I to you should tell,
Stil itterating that his former charge:
Now on his way he goes, God speed him well,
The griefe was great that d[…]d his heart surcharge,
But thus they part, her eyes all full of teares,
His minde of iealousies, and thousand feares.

This while Adonio looking pale and wan,
As earst I told, and ouer growne with heare,
To trauell to his country-ward began,
In hope that no man now would know him theare,
He trauels in the secretst sort he can,
Vnseene, vnknowne, till he arriued wheare,
He rescude had the snake, seu'n yeares before,
That by the clowne pursued was so sore.

Arriuing at this place by breake of day,
He saw a Ladie walking neare the lake,
Who though she seemd attyrd in strange array,
Yet for some great estate one would her take,
Her count'nance did such maiestie bewray:
She toward him with stately gate did make,
And looking on him with a gracious cheare,
She spake these words so loud as he might heare.

Gentleman, though you do not know my face,
Yet am I bound to you, and am your frend,
I am your cosin, and of Cadmus race
Our royall stocke doth lineally descend,
I am that Manto, that in yond same place,
To build that towne did first begin and end,
And Mantua, according to my name,
Tis cald, as you perhaps haue heard by fame.

I am a Fayrie, and to make you know,
To be a Fayrie what it doth import,
We cannot dye how old so ere we grow:
Of paine and harmes of eu'rie other sort
We tast, but yet no death we nature ow;
But which is worse then if our liues were short,
Each seu'nth day we constrained are to take,
Vpon our selues the person of a snake.

To be transformd to Serpents vgly hew,
That creepeth still, and on his bellie goth,
Is such a griefe to vs, to tell you true,
Not one of vs but then to liue doth loth.
Now that I further may declare to you,
From whence this kindnesse that I spake of, groth,
Know this, what day we haue this cursed shape,
We hardly dangers infinite escape.

No liuing thing is lothed more then they,
So that no sooner one of vs is spyde,
But we are chast and hunted out straight way,
And if we finde no place our selues to hyde,
They lay on load, and beat vs so that day,
That we the paine thereof long after byde,
And who would not rather one death haue chused,
Then beaten euermore to be and brused?

Now Sir, the benefit that I confesse
I haue receiu'd, in which your merit stands,
Was this some seu'n yeares since, or not much lesse,
As you did wander ou'r these woods and lands,
You saued me from danger and distresse,
I should haue sufferd at a villens hands:
Who though he could not slay me, neare the latter,
Did seeke with cudgill me to bruse and batter.

For why those dayes that we be snakes (she saith)
And creeping groueling, bellies on the ground,
The heau'ns, that other times our hest obay'th,
Denyes their aid, in vs no force is found:
Sometimes the Sun at our command'ment stay'th,
The stedie earth doth moue and runneth round,
And we can by our powre, cause in a trise,
Ise turne to flame, and fire congeale to Ise.

Now heare I come, your courtsie to require,
Which seau'n yeares since, I to me done did note,
Now to reward you I haue powre and might,
While I am free from serpents cursed cote,
Three times your fathers wealth, you shall ere night
Possesse, and I will set you so aflote,
You neuer shalbe poore, to your liues end,
But euer haue the more, the more you spend.

And (for I know that in your former knot,
In which loue bound you first, you still are tide)
I will direct you so, by wayes I wot,
Your sute shall not be vnto you denide.
Now that the iealous Iudge at home is not,
Go thither straight, and I will be your guide,
She now is[…]t her husbands countrie village,
Attending there good huswifrie and tillage.

She further doth at large to him deuise,
How he shall go, in what apparell clad,
How he shall tempt her, in what manner wise,
And how to grant his suit, she should be glad;
Then told she how she would herselfe disguise,
For why, for euer in her powre she had,
Except the dayes, in which she was a snake,
What shape she lift, vpon herselfe to take.

Thus she disguish him like a Pilgrime poore,
That on his shoulders doth a wallet beare,
And doth for Gods sake beg from doore to doore,
A gowne of Fryers gray she made him weare,
A strange apparell for a gallant woer:
Into an Island dog, with shagged heare,
As white as Ermin, and the pretiest else,
That euer nature made, she changd herselfe.

And thus vnto Argias they resort,
First to some vtter roomes, in which were byding,
The Hinds and Laborers of meaner sort,
Heare he with certaine pypes of his prouiding,
His dog made dance, and make such prettie sport,
That glad was he could bring his mistres tyding,
Who needs would see as much as they had seene,
Such was the Doctors destinie I weene.

Adonio to her presence thus admitted,
Commands the dog which in all points obayd,
His turnes, his dances, and his gestures fitted,
So due and iust, to all the Pilgrime sayd.
They musd to see a dog so rarely witted,
And marking still the qualities he playd,
In seeing them they take great mirth & pleasure,
And praysd the little dog beyond all measure.

Much wonder first but after much desier,
Bred in the Iudges wife, the dog to get,
She bids the nurse the dog to buy or hier,
And try what price the man thereof would set:
Dame (said the Pilgrime) had your mistres by her,
In coyned gold, as much as euer yet,
A womans thought did wish, it would not boot,
Of this same dog of mine to buy on foot.

And plaine to shew that that was true he sayd,
And that it rather better was then worse,
He tooke her straight aside with him and prayd,
The dog to giue two duckats to the nurse,
The dog but shooke his eares, and out he layd
The gold; there take and put it in thy purse
Adonio saith, and thinke what price is able,
To buy a dog that is so profitable.

What ere I aske, this dog to me will bring,
Embroderd gownes and kittles cloth of gold,
A chaine of pearle, a iewell, or a ring,
In shorter time then it can well be told;
Yet tell my Lady this, she hath a thing,
For which alone my Spaniell can be sold,
To pay me gold or coyne, I count it dodging,
But I will sell it her, for one nights lodging.

This said, he sent by her as for a token,
A gem of passing price, then newly made;
The nurse rewarded thus, and fairely spoken,
And vsd (perhaps) to trafficke in such trade,
Went backe there with, and hauing fitly broken
The matter first, her mistres doth perswade,
To buy the dog, and said she might archieue it,
With such a price, as is no losse to giue it.

At first, the fayre Argia backward drew,
As partly, being loth to breake her faith,
And partly doubting all could not be trew,
The which the tatling nurse before her laith;
But she with othes doth her first tale renew,
And that such offers seldome come the saith,
In fine she wan her mistres to agree,
Next day more priuatly the dog to see.

Adonios next apparance in the place,
Became the Doctors ruine and confusion,
Such duckets, such spur Ryals in like case,
Such gems he shewd indeed, or by illusion,
He mollifi'd thereby my Ladies grace,
And mou'd her make the bargaine in conclusion,
And this did (then perhaps) the rather moue her,
When as she knew he was her ancient louer.

Thus her true louers presence, and his prayer,
The comforts of her nurse, that whorish drudge,
The great rewards he presently did pay her,
The absence long of that same iealous Iudge;
And lastly, hope that sure none would bewray her,
Wipt from her conscience scruple all and grudge,
So that she tooke his dog, and for his laber,
Gane him free leaue to play vpon her taber.

Thus now Adonio frankly reapt the fruit,
Of that faire Ladies loue that he had wonne,
The which he followd still with sweet pursuit,
Vnto their likings both: this while the Sun,
Before the Iudge full ended had his suit,
Through twise six signes his yearely course had run,
And home he came at last, suspecting sore,
That which th'Astronomer had told before.

But ere vnto his owne house he would go,
First of th'Astronomer to aske he ment,
If so his wife had taryd chast or no,
Since he from home on his Ambassage went:
The cunning man, that meant the troth to show,
Doth calculate, to see how starres were bent,
And when that he the planets well had vewd,
That she had plaid the quean, he doth conclude.

And that it was befalne as he foreshowed,
How she, with mightie gifts and bribes allured,
Her selfe vpon another had bestowed.
The wretched Iudge, with no small griefe indured,
To heare these newes, & though too true he trowed
The same, yet seeking to be more assured,
He cals the nurse aside, at his home comming,
And seekes to sist her with no little cunning.

With diuers circumqu[…]ques and deuises,
He seeketh of the nurse to finde the trace,
But she in speech so warie and so nice is,
As one be like well studied in the case,
That all his cunning speech her not intices,
But that she still denide with shamelesse face,
That which the knew, and whereof her perswasion
Had bene in part, though not the chiefe occasion.

When as the iealous Iudge long time in vaine,
Had tempted her with promises and gifts,
And that he saw for all his search and paine,
He found lesse certentie, the more he sifts,
He doth expect to try a further traine,
As one not vnacquainted with such drifts,
He watcht a time, when they should fall to bralling,
As still where women are, is oft befalling.

And as he thought indeed so fell it out,
The testie nurse one day not pleased well,
Came vnto him at their next falling out,
And of her owne accord, the truth doth tell:
Thinke you, when as the Iudge had heard her out,
How he did chafe, and fret, and fume, and swell,
So neare vnto his heart and braine it sits,
It little wanted to haue reau'd his wits.

And in this agonie resolu'd to dye,
And finish both his owne dayes and his wiues,
And so his griefe, and her great shame thereby
To wipe away, with ending both their liues,
He turneth to the Citie by and by,
As that same desperat desire him driues,
And thence a trustie seruant with instruction,
He sends of purpose for his wiues destruction.

He bids him tell Argia in his name,
That on the sodaine he was falne so sicke,
That but to him without delay she came,
The doubt was great she should not find him quick[…]
Wherefore her iourney with more speed to frame,
To ryde behinde this man, who in a thicke,
That was right in the way vnto the Citie,
Had charge to kill her there without all pitie.

And straight accordingly the seruant went,
To say and do, as much as he was bidden,
But she foretold of that their fell intent,
(For nothing from her little dogge was hidden)
And taught withall, the same how to preuent,
Away with this sauie seruant she is ridden,
And in few howres arriued at the wood,
Where he was purposd to haue shed her blood.

Then did he tell to her his masters will,
And drew his sword a speedie death to giue her,
He onely offerd, ere he would her kill,
To grant her time, to pray God to forgiue her:
I cannot tell you by what manner skill,
She did her selfe forth of his hands deliuer,
But gone she was, he seeking all about,
And for his life he could not find her out.

Backe went the fellow, with astonied face,
With trembling heart, and courage all dismayd,
And made his master, at the wondrous case,
No lesse then he had bene afore afrayd,
He knew not how; by Faery Mantos grace,
His wife could when she list, haue helpe and ayd,
For why the nurse that did the rest vnfold,
I knew not why, but this she neuer told.

The Doctour now was plagu'd with griefe extreame,
Far more then euer he had felt before,
What erst was but a mote, is now a beame,
Nor he one iot reuenged is the more;
His shame will now be blazd ou'r all the Reame,
And all men now, will laugh at him therefore,
The former errour might haue bene concealed,
But this to all the world wil be reuealed.

He thinks that sure, vpon this plaine detection,
Of his fellonious mind, of which I spake,
She will, to keepe her out of his subiection,
To some great Lord, forthwith her selfe betake,
And liue in spite of him, with such protection,
And so a mocking stocke of him to make,
But most he doubts, least to some man she goth,
As is a leacher, and a ruffian both.

Wherefore so soule a mischiefe to preuent,
He spares no paine, no trauell nor no cost,
To eu'rie towne, in Lombardie he sent,
With letters and with messages in post;
And further, he himselfe in person went
To seeke his wife that was so strangely lost,
But all in vaine, for why other abiding,
No inckling he could heare, nor any tyding.

And to conclude, at last he cald his man,
That man that made to him the strange report,
And bids him show the place, and if he can,
Where his lewd mistres vanisht in such sort:
The seruant straight to leade the way began,
And to the place, together they resort,
But (which was strange) where erst he left a wood,
A wondrous stately Pallace now there stood.

The fayre Argia caused had this space,
Her Faery to erect there for her pleasure,
An house of Allablaster in the place,
Adornd and guilt, with cost beyond all measure:
Twere hard to thinke, much lesse to tell with grace,
What beautie was without, within what treasure;
My masters house, frō whence last night you came,
Was but a paltrie Alehouse to this same.

Of costly Arras, there was so great plentie,
Of beds of silke, imbroderd, fresh, and new,
As furnisht chambers, more then ten times twentie,
And halls, and whatsoeuer was in vew,
Cups, candlesticks, and bowls of stones most dentie,
Of precious substance, and of sundrie hew,
To be imploid for eating, and for drinking,
And store of gold, and silke beyond all thinking.

Now sir, the wretched Iudge, as I said earst,
That out to seeke his wife had here assignd,
And findes this house, in state as I rehearst,
Where he had nothing thought, but woods to find,
With wonder great his mazed head was pearst,
And doubted not a little in his mind,
If so himselfe were sleeping then or waking,
Or if his troubled brayne, were in due taking.

He sees a Gipsen standing at the doore,
All blab-lipt, beetle browd, and bottle nozed,
Most greasie, nastie, his apparell poore,
His other parts, as Painters are disposed,
To giue to Esop; such a Blackamore
Could not be seene elsewhere, as he supposed,
So vile avilage, and so bad a grace,
To make eu'n Paradise alothsome place.

Anselmus seeing none but this same drudge,
Went vnto him, and praith him make it knowne,
Whose house is this: the Gipsen tels the Iudge,
That he himselfe, the stately house doth owne:
The Iudge, that he doth mocke him sure doth iudge
And prayes the certaine truth to him be showne:
The Negro doth affirme with many an oth,
That that which he had said before, was troth.

And that he plainly might the truth perceaue,
He prayes him vew the house at better leasure,
And offreth him free libertie and leaue,
Of any thing was there, at his owne pleasure,
For him or for his frends, to take and leaue,
And eu'n as of his owne, to make free feature:
The Doctor maruels that such liberalitie,
Could be in one, of so base show and qualitie.

But yet the Iudge, so fayre and kind intreated,
In frendly sort, doth from his horse alight,
And sees the house, as I before repeated.
With wonder great, and with as great delight,
So richly hurnished, so Princely seated,
So brauely built for vse, as well as sight,
And eu'rie part with other so agreeing,
He could not satisfie his eyes with seeing.

Now when the Iudge came backe againe, he told
He nere saw house, so pleasing to his eye,
And sweares he thought that ten times Crasus gold,
Were scant a price, so rare a house to buy:
Yet may (the Negro saith) this house be sold,
Though not for coyne (for not for coyne care I)
Yet for some other ware, which sure I guesse,
You will esteeme at price a great deale lesse.

In fine, he made to him the like request,
As Sodomits did make for guests of Lot;
The Iudge his motion doth and him detest,
Who though fiue times repulst, yet ceaseth not,
But him with so large offers still he prest,
That in conclusion, like a beastly sot,
So as it might be done, in hugger mugger,
The Iudge agreed, the Negro him should ( ).

Argia that there by vnseene had stayd,
And seene him falne into the sinne forenamed,
Disclosd her selfe, and sharply did vpbrayd
His filthy fact, that iustly might be blamed;
A Iudge (said she) reputed wise, and stayd,
Sione thus? where with the Doctor was so shamed,
He wisht the earth would cleaue vnto the center,
That he to hide himselfe, therein might enter.

But she exclaimeth on him still anew,
For his more shame, and for her more excuse,
And said, what punishment were fit for you,
For this foule sinne, against all natures vse?
That did no lesse then death to me thinke dew,
For such a small and naturall abuse,
With one that lou'd me, and whose gift was such,
As ten such houses are not worth so much.

If one death did vnto my fault belong,
One hundred deaths were fit to thine to giue,
And though myselfe am in this place so strong,
That if I list, thou shouldst no longer liue,
Yet will I do to thee no further wrong,
But pardon thee, and thou shalt me forgiue,
And quite each other, all old debts and driblets,
And set the hares head, against the goose gyblets.

And let henceforth peace follow in effect,
As ought to be betweene the man and wife,
Not euer tone to tother once obiect,
Our former fault in all our future life:
The Iudge was glad, and did it not neglect,
To take this frendly end of cursed stri[…]e;
Thus as good frends, they liued many a yeare,
And while they liu'd, they lou'd each other deare.

And there the steers-man did his storie end,
With which he mou'd the worthy knight to laster,
Who blam'd the Doctor, that did so offend,
And talked of the same a good while after:
But much he did Argias wit commend,
Or at the least, the with of her that taught her,
To make the Iudge into that net fall in,
In which her selfe was falne with far lesse sin.

Now when the Sunne gan mount vnto the South,
A little Table in the […]arge was spred,
And then the knight began to feed his mouth,
When sleepe his eyes, and talke his eares had fed:
The Mantuan at his charges, him allowth,
All fine Acates that that same country bred,
The while his swimming vessell doth forsake
The pleasant country, and vnpleasant lake.

From thence, he held his course still forward right,
The Riuer running straight as any lyne,
Which when they passed had with speedie flight,
Vpon the tother hand they did decline:
And by a ditch, and standing poole in sight,
Ere of that day, were spent full howers nine,
Vnro Rauenna as they were commanded,
They went, and there the braue Renaldo landed:

Although Renaldo could but seldome bost,
Of store of coyne, yet now such store he had,
As to the Bargemen of his frendly host,
He gaue a largesse such, as made them glad:
From thence to Rimini, he went in post,
And changing horses still, now good, now bad,
That night at Mountefior, he did but sup,
And so t'Vrbyno, ere next Sunne was vp.

Then Caglie, and from thence the Alpes he past,
Then th'Vmbrys and Etruscians, thence to Rome,
And so by Barke, to Ostia in great hast
He went, and to that Citie he doth come,
Which good Aeneas many ages past,
Ennobled with his fire Anchyses toome:
Then straight by sea he went vnto this Ile,
Where I did leaue Orlando, since a while.

I meane that Ile, that Lippadusa hight,
Wherein the famons warriors, three to three,
The combat that I spake of erst did fight,
The which Renaldo longing sore to see,
With ores and sayles, made all the hast he might,
But yet for all his hast, it would not be,
The wind did for his purpose serue so slacke,
More then an houre too late it kept him backe.

So that eu'n much about that time he came,
When as Orlando had that conquest wonne,
In which vnto his euerlasting same,
Two Turkish Princes, vnto death were donne;
Yet was some sorrow mingled with the same,
Both for the death of Monodantés sonne,
And Oliueros hurt, of which he found
Such griefe, he could not set his foote to ground.

Now as the Earle Renaldo did imbrace,
He could not chuse, but shed a streame of teares,
When as he show'd him, in the present place,
Good Brandimart, to whom such loue he beares,
Lye newly slaine, with pale and liuelesse face:
Likewise to weepe, Renaldo not forbeares,
To see his death, and eke his cosins bruse,
So gri[…]uous, that his foote he could not vse.

Renaldo comforts them in all he may,
Although himselfe of comfort tasted least,
And chiefe to thinke by his vnluckie stay,
He was come tardie, to so great a feast:
This while the wofull seruants did conuay,
Their masters coarses, to the towne distrest,
I meane Bisetta, where they made it knowne,
Which side preuaild, and which was ouerthrowne.

Of this same conquest that Orlando wonne,
Astolso and stout Sansonet were glad;
Yet ioyd they not, so as they would haue donne,
If Brandimart his death then had not had:
The fall of noble Monodantés sonne,
Strake them into a dumpe and made them sad,
But who shall now impart to Fiordeliege,
The wofull losse, of her deare Lord and liege?

Her selfe had dreamt a strange dreame ouernight,
Which did her minde, in fearfull sort dismay,
She dreamt the bases of her loued knight,
Which she imbrodred blacke this other day,
With spots of red were powdred all in sight,
And on the same, like storme of haylstones lay;
That she had done it so, she sure beleeued,
And with the thought thereof, was greatly greeued.

She further thought, that to her selfe she sed,
Did not my Lord command me blacke to make it,
What ment I then to mixt it so with red,
And in so strange a manner to mistake it?
And ill presage in her this fancie bred,
And for an euill token she did take it,
Then came these newes which none imparted with her,
Till th' English Duke, and Sansonet came thither.

When they came in, and that she well had heeded
Their count'nances, in such a conquest sad,
No further newes, no further notice needed,
To make her know, they brought her tidings bad:
Forthwith her griefe, and sorrow so exceeded,
Scarse any powre her vitall spirits had,
But presently in pale, and deadly sound,
She fell in wofull trance vpon the ground.

But when that life came to his course againe,
Her tender checkes, and her sayre haire she tare,
Oft calling on his loued name in vaine,
Whose losse had bred in her such wofull care,
She screeches and cries out, with griefe and paine,
Like those with deuils that possessed are,
Or as the Menades, with sound of home,
In furious manner all about were borne.

This man, and that, to lend she doth intreat
A knife, wherewith her selfe she murder may,
Straight to the hau'n she runnes with furie great,
There where the bodies of the dead kings lay,
With minde to mangle them, and bruse and beat:
Then to the sea she will, there is no nay,
And passe to Lippaduse, and there abide.
And end her life, by Brandimarts deare side.

Ah Brandimart my loued Lord (she said)
What meant I without me, to let thee part?
Ay me vnluckie wretch, in that I staid,
And was not present there, to take thy part;
Mine eye might vnto thee, haue bene an aid,
My voyce might haue assisted thee in part,
And if Gradasso thee behind had stricken,
One cry of mine, might thee both warne & quicken

Or else perhaps, so well I might haue sped me,
As to haue stept the blow and thee betweene,
If thou hadst scapt, although it did behed me,
I would haue said, that it had happie bene:
Now dye I will, though death no whit can sted me,
And though I know, my death is fruitlesse cleene,
Whereas if I had dyde in thy defence,
My death had profit bred, and not offence.

And if the heau'ns had bene so hard in this,
That I could not haue holpe thee in the place,
At least my last farewell, and solemne kisse,
I should haue giu'n thee, and thy louely face,
Bedewd with teares, and ere to heau'nly blisse,
They soule had flowne, I should haue had the space,
To say, depart from hence in peace my deare,
And know, I haue not long to tarrie heare.

Is this (deare Brandimart) is this thy raigne,
Of Damagyre, whose scepter I should take?
Is this the dowre, thou doest to me or daine?
Is this the royall seat, of which you spake?
Ah fortune hard, how friuolous and vaine,
Dost thou my hopes, and my designements make?
Ah why cease I, sith so great good is rest me,
To cast away what euer else is left me?

With this, againe so great her furie grew,
She made vpon her selfe a fresh assalt,
And her faire haire, she rent, and tare anew,
As if her haire, had bene in all the falt,
Eu'n from her tender cheeks the bloud she drew,
Still dewing them, with watrie teares and salt:
But let her here awhile lament, and mourne,
For to Orlando I must now retourne.

Who with his kinsman that did now require,
Some cunning Leach his grieuous wound to cure,
And (for to Brandimar: he did desire,
To giue an honorable sepulture,)
To that hill went that doth the night with fire
Make cleare, and doth the day with smoke obscure,
And so the winde did fauour his intent,
In twentie houres, he came to Agringent.

Here when they were downe from their ships alighted,
The Sunne eu'n then preparing to go downe,
They sent abroad and in great hast inuited,
The chiefe Nobilitie of all the towne:
Straight at the shore, of torches store was lighted,
And many men of honour and renowne,
When as Orlando to the shore retourned,
Went with him to the corps, and with him mourned

There Bardyn stood, a man well stricke in yeares,
And in such sort to wayle he did perseuer,
That with aboundant shedding of his teares,
Men thought he would haue lost his eyes for euer;
To blame the heu'ns, and starres, he not for beares,
But roaring like a Lyon in a feauer,
Tare his gray haire, and all about it sprinkled,
And spared not his aged skin, and wrinkled.

When as the Palladine approched neare,
Straight doubled was the mourning noise and crye,
Each striu'd who should most sorrowfull appeare,
And eu'rie one lift vp his voice on hye;
Orlando with more heauy heart, then cheare,
Still keeping fixed on the beare his eye,
When silence first, by signes procur'd he had,
Pronounc't these words, with mourning voyce & sad

O stout, ô deare champion mine, and frend,
That here art dead, but liu'st in heauenly seat,
Where thy great ioyes shall neuer haue an end,
Nor euer be impaird with cold or heat:
Yet pardon me in that I do offend,
To wayle my woe, and miserie so great,
My sorrow is not, for thy parting hence,
But that my selfe am so long absent thence.

To thinke that he is seuerd now so far,
In whom I ioyd, this doth my paine increase,
I was with thee, in tempests, and in war;
Why am not I with thee in calme and peace?
O mirie flesh, that me from blisse doth bar,
Why cannot I obtaine a like release,
Sith still I was copartner of thy paine,
Why am I kept from part of so great gaine?

To you the happie guerdon, and the gaine,
To vs the losse, and damage all is left,
France, Germanie, and Italy complaine,
Their chiefe defence, and their chiefe buckler rest:
How shall my Prince, and vncle now sustaine,
(Depriu'd of so good helpe) so great a heft,
Thy losse of succour hath bereaued wholie,
Both holy Church, and eake the Empire holie.

The Pagans whom thou dantedst in thy life,
How will they gather heart now with thy death?
How will they stirre new storms of fearfull strife,
Now hauing so good meanes, to gather breth?
But how great sorrow, will thy dearest wife
Sustaine? me thinks I heare eu'n now she seth
I am to blame, and that she hates me most,
And saith by me, she hath her worlds ioy lost.

Yet Fiordeliege, this comfort may reuiue
Both thee, and all that for his death are sorie,
That all the valiant knights that him suruiue,
Haue cause to enuie, and admire his glorie:
The Decij, nor the knight, that lept aliue
In Curtain lake, so praisd in Latin storie,
Nor Codrus by the Greekes so magnified,
With greater praise, nor honor neuer dyed.

These words, and such as these Orlando spake,
The while the Fryres, both white, & blacke, and gray
A solemne, and a long procession make,
In goodly ranke, and in deuout array:
That God to heau'n, the dead mans spirit take,
Requiem aeternam, for his soule they pray,
And tapers in the midst, before, behind,
Did cause that knight, like to the noone day shind.

Then diuers Earles, and knights, the hearse vphold,
All ouer which a mantle rich was spred,
Of purple silke, embroderd braue with gold,
And with fayre pearle, and stone well garnished,
Of equall cost and bewtie to behold,
The coffin was, that held the bodie ded,
Prouided by the Palladine to be,
Fit for his calling, and his high degree.

Three hunderd people, of the poorer sort,
Of dweller: that inhabited the towne,
Vnto the funerals did then resort,
And vnto each was giu'n a mourning gowne;
An hundred Pages, mounted in good sort,
On warlike steeds, clothd to the ground adowne,
And both the Pages, and the gallant steeds,
From top to toe, were clad in mourning weeds.

Then bare they diuers banners fayre displayd,
And painted diuers armes, that he obtaind
From armed bands alone, without all ayd,
And had to Caesar and to Peter gaind:
With hunderds more, all in blacke gowns arrayd,
To whom were diuers offices ordaind,
And last Renaldo, and Orlando came,
But Oliuero staid (for he was lame.)

It long would be ere I could it rehearse,
And tell what ceremonies vsed weare,
Nor can I comprehend [ ] well in vearse,
How orderly they were accomplisht theare:
Vnto the chiefest Church, they bare a hearse,
The while nor old nor young, to weepe for beare,
His noblenesse, his value, and his youth,
Did breed in all their hearts, so wondrous ruth.

Now when the women finisht had, and donne,
Their bootlesse weeping, and their fruitlesse paine,
The Priest had said, their Kyrieleisonne,
And all the rites, that there-unto pertaine:
The carkasse of great Monodantes sonne,
So chested, on two collumns to remaine
Orlando causd, till time he might procure,
A costly, and more stately sepulture.

From Sicilie Orlando not departs,
Till he for Tutch, and Porpherle had sent,
And all that were most skilfull of those arts,
Had talkt with all, and told them his intent:
Then Fiordeliege comming to those parts,
Her time, her trauell, and her treasure spent,
To make the tombe most stately for her spouse,
At which to spend her future time she vowes.

And sith her plaints and teares were neuer tired,
In that selfe place she meane, her dayes to passe,
And for her husbands soule, she still desired
Continuall Dirges, and perpetuall Masse;
From company her selfe she quite retired,
And to the place (such her deuotion was)
That by the tombe, she built a litle cell,
In which till death, she purposed to dwell.

Orlando diuers messages did send
To her, and after that in person went,
To fetch her into France, and did pretend,
That her to place with Galeran he ment,
Or if the time, in prayre she still would spend,
He would a Nunrie build for that intent,
Or that he would, if so she so had rather,
Attend her to her country, and her father.

But at the tombe she tarride obstinate,
And would tro thence by no meane be remoued,
Still doing, saying, both betime and late,
Penance and prayrs, for him that she so loued,
Till death in th' end, cut off her dolefull date,
And sent her soone, to find her deare beloued:
But now the knights of France, from Sicill parted,
For losse of their companion heauie harted.

And Oliuer still of his foote complained,
For why no salue, nor surgerie preuailed,
But that he was with griefe so greatly pained,
They doubted that his life would then haue failed:
Thus while they all in doubtfull dumpe remained,
The man that steard the barke in which they sailed,
Did make to them this motion sage and wise,
And they agreed to follow his aduise.

He told them that not far from thence there dwelled,
An Hermit in a solitarie place,
That so in sanctitie of life excelled,
That he could remedie each doubtfull case;
Diseases diuers were by him expelled,
Dumb, blind, and lame were heald such was his grace
And that he could with one signe of the crosse,
Allay the waues when they do highest tosse.

In fine, he told them sure there was no doubt,
To find reliefe, eu'n present at the hands
Of that same man, so holy and deuour,
As scarce his match, was found in many lands.
Orlando hauing heard the Pylot out.
Inquired of the place which way it stands,
And presently the place to him was showd,
And toward it, in hast they sayld and rowd.

Next morning they discouerd all the Ile,
But kept aloofe, so as their ship might float,
And there they cast their anchor, and the while,
Conuayd the wounded Marquesse in a boat,
Vpon the shallow waues, scant halfe a mile,
Vnto the blesled Hermits simple coat,
That verie Hermit, that before but late,
Had brought Rogero vnto Christian state.

The man of God, that had his dwelling heare,
Came forth, and met Orlando at the gate,
And welcomd him, with kind and frendly cheare,
Inquiring of his arrant, and their state,
(Although to him, it was apparent cleare:
For God that night, had sent his Angell late,
To tell the Saint thereof) Orlando sayd,
His arrant was, to get his kinsman ayd.

Who had a great and grieuous mayme receaued,
In fighting for the Empire, and the saith,
And was of hope and comfort, quite bereaued.
Be of good cheare (the godly Hermit saith)
Who trust in God shall neuer be deceaued;
Yet oyntment none vnto his hurt he layth,
But first to Church he go'th, and makes his prayre.
Then with great boldnesse, doth to them repayre.

And calling on that trebble sou'raigne name,
Of God the Father, Sonne and holy Ghost,
He blest the knight, that maymed was and lame,
(Oh wódrous grace, of which Gods saints may bost)
Straight to his vse each vaine and sinew came,
No part of all his former strength was lost,
And as it pleased God, of his great grace,
Sobrino present was then in the place.

And being now so weake with bleeding brought,
That eu'n his vitall sprites were almost spent,
And seeing plainly such a wonder wrought,
So great, so gracious and so euident,
To leaue his Macon he thereby was taught,
And to confesse our Christ omnipotent,
He prayd in most contrite, and humble manner,
To be a souldier vnder Christian banner.

The iust old man did grant him his request,
And Christend him and did his health restore,
At which Orlando stout, and all the rest,
Reioyced much, and praysed God therefore.
Rogero eke as ioyfull as the best,
Increased in deuotion more and more,
To see those mysteries deuine, and Oracles,
Confirmed so by plaine apparent miracles.

Thus all this companie in sweet confort,
In this same blessed Hermits house do stay,
Who doth them all, most fatherly exhort,
To bend their whole endeuours all they may,
That in this Inne, where mans abode is short,
They seeke to wash away the dirt and clay,
That some call life, and greatly do commend,
And sole to heau'n, their eyes and hearts to bend.

Then sent Orlando to his ship in hast,
For bread and wine, and other daintie dishes,
And this old man, whom abstinence and fast,
Had made forget the tast of beasts or fishes,
Of charitie, they prayd some flesh to tast,
And he therein consented to their wishes,
And when they all had eate to their contents,
They found discourse of sundry arguments.

And as in speech it often doth be fall,
That one thing doth another bring to light,
Rogero was at last knowne to them all,
For that Rogero, that exceld in fight;
The first that him to memorie did call,
Was Sobrin, who did know him well by sight:
The next that knew his louely looke and stately,
Was good Renaldo, that fought with him lately.

They all do come to him with frendly face,
When of his Christendome they vnderstand,
And some do kisse him, others him embrace,
In kindest sort, some take him by the hand,
But chiefe Renaldo striues, to do him grace:
Yet if that you desire to vnderstand,
Why more then all the rest Renaldo sought it,
Turne ore the leafe and there you shal be taught it.