THE EIGHTEENTH NOUELL.

Nihil est quod non effreno captus amore, ausit.As Ouide the Poet sayth:Nothinge there is, but that the louing man doth dare,Surprised with frantike fit, eche deed he doth not spare.Wherfore let euery wight beware how they gage their honesty for any enterprise (seeme it neuer so impossible). Maistresse Dianora deerely beloued of a gentleman, and earnestly assayled, in the ende yelded vpon a condition: which if it could be brought to passe (which she thought impossible) was content to surrender to his loue: who consulting with a Magitian, performed hir request: then what folowed, and what counsel hir husband gaue hir, after she had broken the effect of hir promise to hym, and what Curtesie was vsed on all sides, the sequele hereof dyscloseth. The Countrey of Frioli although it be colde, yet is it pleasaunt by reason of many faire mountaines, riuers, and cleere sprynges that are in the same: where there is a City called Vdina, and in the same sometime dwellyng a faire gentlewoman called Mistresse Dianora, the wyfe of Gilberto, a notable rich man, a very curteous personage, and of good behauiour. This Lady, for hir graces and vertues, was intierly beloued of a Gentleman and great Lord, called maister Ansaldo Grandese, who for his liberalyty and valyance in armes, was famous and well knowen: and albeit that hee loued hir feruently, seking al meanes possible to be beloued of hir, soliciting hir many tymes by Ambassadours, yet his labour was in vayn. And the Lady being offended for hys dayly sute and trauayle, hee for al hir refusal and disagreement to his desire, would not abstaine from louing hir, but still mayntayne his importunate sute: she deuising with her selfe how to rid him away, made a request vnto him, so straunge and impossible, (in hir iudgement) as he was not able to bring the same to passe: and vpon a day she sayd vnto an old woman, (the which cam often tymes to sue vnto hir in hys behalf) these words: “Good wife, thou hast many times assured me, that Maister Ansaldo doth loue mee aboue all other, and thou hast offered vnto me maruellous giftes and presents in hys name: al which I haue refused, vpon consideration,that I mynd not to fauour or loue him for his goods: but if thou canst iustify by warrantize or other probable argument, that hee loueth me so mutch as thou sayest, I will condescend without fayle to loue him againe and to doe the thing that it shal please him to commaund me: therfore if he wil assure me to do that thing which I shal require hym to do, tel him that I am at his commaundement.” “What is that madame,” (said the old woman) “that you desire?” “The thing which I demaund” (answered the Gentlewoman) “is, that he should cause to be made here without the Citie, during the moneth of Januarie next commyng, a garden full of greene herbes, floures and trees, bespred wyth leaues, euen as it were in the moneth of May: and if so be that he do it not, then let him neuer send thee or any other vnto me agayn: for if afterwards he be importunate vpon me, like as I haue hitherto kept it close from my husbande and parents, euen so complayning vnto them, I wyll assaye to bee dispatched from hys long and tedious sute.” When the knight vnderstoode that request, and the offer that hys Mystresse made him (although it seemed a thinge very difficulte and all most impossible to bee done) knowinge very well that she did the same for none other purpose, but onely to put him out of hope that euer hee should enioy hir, hee determined notwithstandinge, to proue what hee was able to do. And for that purpose sent to seeke in many places of the Worlde if there were any man that could assist him and geue him Counsel therin. In the ende there was one found that offred to doe it (if he were well waged thereunto) by the art of Necromancie, with whom maister Ansaldo bargained for a great summe of Money. Then he expected the moneth of Ianuarie with great deuotion, whych beeing come, euen when the coldest wether was, and that al places were ful of snow and yce, this Necromancer vsed his art in sutch sort, as in the night after the holy dais of Christmasse, in a faire medow adioyning to the city, ther appered in the morning (as they can testify that saw the same) one of the fairest gardens that euer any man saw, full of herbes, trees, and fruites of all sortes: which when maister Ansaldo had seen, God knoweth if he were glad or not: and incontinently caused to be gathered the fairest fruites and floures that were there, and secretlyesente the same to his Friende, inuiting hir to come and see the Garden which she had procured him to make, to the intent thereby she might know the loue that he bare hir, and to remember the promise which she made him, and confirmed by othe, that he might from that time forth esteeme hir a woman so good as hir promise. When the Gentlewoman sawe the flowers and fruictes and hearing tell by report of the straunge things that were in that Garden, began to repent hir selfe of the promise which shee had made: but for all her repentaunce, she like one desirous to se straung things, wente wyth many other women to see the same: and hauing praised it, not wythout greate admiration, she returned home, the angriest woman that euer was, when she had considered in what sort she had abused hir selfe by meanes of that Garden: and hir rage was so greate, that she could by no meanes keepe the same so secrete or close, but that her husband muste perceiue the same, who woulde needes knowe of hir al the whole matter: the Gentlewoman a long time kepte it secrete: in the ende she was constrained to declare vnto him the same in order. Hir husbande hearing what she had promised was sodainly very angry: afterwardes considering the pure intente of his wife, hee wisely appeaseed hir, and sayd: “Dianora, it is not the acte of a wyse and vertuouse wife to encline hir eare to sutch messages as those be, and lesse honest to make any marte or bargain of hir honesty with any person, vnder what condicion soeuer it be. Words which the hart receiueth by the eares, haue greater force than many do esteme, and there is nothing so difficult, but by the amorous is brought to passe. First therfore thou hast done euil to giue eare vnto such ambassage, and afterwards for agreement to the bargaine: for the weight of chastity is so ponderous, as by no meanes it ought to be laid in balance, eyther by impossibilities to boast and bragge therof, or else by assurance of their conceiued thought to bring it into question, leaste in all places the same may be dysputed vpon, and blemysh with the note of lightnesse, the person tyll that time vnspotted: but bycause I know the purity of thy heart, I wyll agree vnto thee for discharge of thy promise, whych peraduenture, some other would not doe, moued therunto for the feare I haue of the Necromancer, who if he see MaysterAnsaldo to be offended bicause thou hast deluded hym, may doe vs some displeasure: wherfore I wyll that thou go to maister Ansaldo, and if thou canest by any meanes to vse thy selfe (as thyne honour saued) thou mayst discharge thy promise, I shall commende thy wit: but if there be no remedye otherwyse, for that onely time then lende forth thy Body and not thy wyll.” The gentlewoman hearyng hir husband so wisely speake, could doe nought else but weepe, and sayd, that she would not agree to his requeste. Notwythstanding, it pleased the husband (for al the denial whych his wife did make) that it shoulde be so: by meanes wherof, the next morning vpon the point of day the Gentlewoman in the homliest attire she had, with two of hir seruantes before, and hir mayde behinde, wente to the lodging of maister Ansaldo, who when he hearde tell that hys Louer was come to see hym, maruelled mutch, and rising vp, called the Necromancer, and sayde vnto him: “My wyll is, that thou see how mutch thyne arte hath preuailed:” and going vnto hir, without any disordinate lust, he saluted hir wyth reuerence, and honestly receiued hir. Then they entred into a faire Chamber, and sittyng downe before a great fire, he sayde vnto hir these Wordes: “Madame, I humbly beseeche you, if the loue which I haue borne you of long time, and yet doe beare, deserue some recompence, that it please you to tell me vnfainedly the cause which haue made you to come hither thus early, and with such a company.” The shamefast Gentlewoman, hir eyes ful of teares, made answere: “Sir, the loue which I beare you, nor any promised faith haue brought me hither, but rather the only commaundement of my husband, who hath greater respect to the payne and trauaile of your disordinate loue, than to his own honour or my reputation, who hath caused me to come hither, and by hys commaundement am redy for this once to satisfie your pleasure.” If Mayster Ansaldo were abashed at the begynnyng, be much more did maruell when he hearde the Gentlewoman thus to speake, and moued with the liberality of hir husband, he began to chaunge his heate into compassion, and said: “Mistresse, God defend if it be true that you do say, that I should soyle the honour of hym, whych hath pity vpon my loue, and therefore you may tarrie here so long as it shall please you,with sutch assurance of your honesty as if you were my naturall sister, and frankly may depart when you be disposed, vpon sutch condicion, that you render in my behalf those thanks vnto your husband which you shal thinke conuenient, for the great liberality whych he hath imployed vpon me, deeming my selfe henceforth so much bound vnto him, as if I were his brother or Seruaunt.” The Gentlewoman hearing those wordes, the best contented that euer was, sayd vnto him: “All the worlde could neuer make me beleue (your great honesty considered) that other thing could happen vnto mee by my commyng hyther, than that which presently I see: for which I recken my selfe perpetually bounde vnto you.” And takynge hir leaue, honorablye returned in the aforesayde company home to hir husband, and tolde hym what had chaunced, which engendred perfect loue and amytye betweene hym and mayster Ansaldo. The Necromancer to whom maister Ansaldo determined to gyue the price, couenanted betwene them, seyng the liberality which the husbande had vsed towards mayster Ansaldo, and the like of mayster Ansaldo towards the Gentlewoman, sayd: “God defend, that sith I haue seene the husband lyberall of his honour, and you bountiful of your loue and curtesie, but that I be likewyse franke in my reward: for knowing that it is well employed of you, I purpose that you shall keepe it still.” The knyghte was ashamed, and would haue forced him to take the whole, or part: but in offryng the same, he lost his laboure: and the Necromancer the third day after, hauying vndon his Garden, and desirous to departe, tooke his leaue. Thus Ansaldo extinguishing the dishonest loue kindled in hys hearte, for inioying of his Lady, vpon consideration of honest charity, and regard of Curtesie, repressed his wanton minde, and absteyned from that which God graunte that others by lik Example may refrayne.THE EIGHTEENTH NOUELL.Mithridanes enuious of the liberality of Nathan, and goinge aboute to kill hym, spake vnto him vnknowne, & being infourmed by himself by what meanes he might do the same he found him in a little wood accordingly as hee had tolde him, who knowinge him, was ashamed, and became his friende.Straungemay seeme thys following Hystory, and rare amonges those, in whom the vertue of liberality neuer florished: many we reade of, that haue kept Noble and bountifull houses, entertayninge Guestes, both Forrayne and free borne, plentifully Feastinge them with variety of cheere, but to entertayne a Guest that aspyreth the death of his hoast, and to cherishe hym after hee knew of it, or liberally to offer his life, seldome or neuer we reade, or by experience knowe: but what moued the conspirator to frowne at the state and life of Nathan? euen that froward pestilent passion Enuy, the consumer and deadly monster of all humanity: who imitatinge the like cost, and port of his deuout hoast Nathan, and seekinge after equall glory and fame, was through enuie’s force for not attayninge the like, driuen to imagine how to kill a good and innocent man: for enuy commonly wayteth vpon the vertuous, euen as the shadow doeth the body. And as the Cantharides (which similitude Plutarch vseth) delight in ripe and prosperous wheate, and crawle in spreadinge roses, so enuy chiefly them which in vertue and richesse do abound: for had not Nathan bene famous for hys goodnesse, and glorious for liberality, Mithridanes would neuer haue prosecuted him by enuy, nor gon about to berieue hys lyfe. He that enuieth the vertuous and industrious person, may bee compared to Dedalus, whom the Poets fayne to murder Telon hys Apprentice for deuising of the Potter’s wheele: and Mithridanes disdaynfull of Nathan’s hospitality, would haue slayne him: but how ashamed Mithridanes was of his practise, this example at large discourseth. Very true it is (at least wyse if credite may bee gieuen to the words of certayne Genoua Merchauntes, and of others whych haue trauayled thatcountrey) how in Cataya, there was sometimes a rich Gentleman without comparison, named Nathan, who hauing a place or Pallace ioyning vpon the high way, by which the trauaylers to and from the West, and East, were constrayned to passe, and hauing a noble and liberal heart, desirous by experience to haue the same to be knowen, and wyth what nature and quality it was affected, he assembled dyuers maister Masons and Carpenters, and in short tyme erected there one of the stateliest Pallaces for greatnesse and costly furniture that euer was seene in that countrey, which afterwards he caused to be stored with all things necessary, honourably to entertayne ech Gentleman that passed that way: and with a great trayne of seruantes he welcomed and accepted sutch as iourneyed to and fro. And in this commendable custome he perseuered so longe as both in the East and West partes, report was bruted of his renoume and fame: and being come to auncient yeares, not for all that weary of his liberality, it chaunced that his fame flewe to the eares of a yong gentleman called Mithridanes, who in a country not farre of from his, had his abode and resiance. Mithridanes knowing himselfe to be so rich as Nathan, enuious of his vertue and liberality, purposed by some meanes or other to defame and obscure his neyghbour’s good reporte: and hauing builded a Palace like to that which Nathan did possesse, began to vse curtesies to those which passed to and fro, in outragious and disordred sort: whereby in little time he purchased great fame. Now it chaunced vpon a day, as Mithridanes was alone in the court of his Palace, a poore woman entring in at one of the gates of the same, craued almes, and had it and so successiuely euen to the twelfth and thirtenth time, also she retorned agayne, which Mithridanes perceiuing, said vnto her: “Good wyfe you come hither very often:” and yet he denied not hir almes. The old woman hearing those words, sayd: “O how maruellous is the liberality of Nathan, whose palace hathXXXII.entries by seuerall gates, so greate as this, and daily begging almes there, neuer made semblance as though he knew me, and yet the same was not denied me: and being come hither butXIII.times, I haue bene marked and reproued:” and saying so, she went her way, and neuer after came thither agayne. Mithridanes hearyng thesewordes to proceede from the old woman fell into a great rage, deeming the fame reported of Nathan to be a diminution of his own, and said: “Ah wretch, when shal I be able to attayne the liberality of Nathan’s greatest things? and why then goe I about to excel him, when in litle matters I am not able to come neare him? verily I labour all in vaine, if I myselfe do not seeke meanes to rid him of his life, sith croked age is not disposed to dispatch him, I must therfore doe the same with myne own hands.”And in that fury makyng no man priuy to his intent, he rode forth with a smal traine, and in three dayes arriued where Nathan dwelte, and then commaunded his men in any wise not to be knowen that they came with him, and likewise that they knewe him not, but to prouide lodging for themselues, vntyll sutch tyme as they had further newes from him. Mithridanes then being arriued about evening, al alone, found Nathan walking vp and downe before his faire Palace, without other company than himself, who in simple attire and garment went forth to meete him: of whom Mithridanes, bicause he knew not Nathan, demaunded if he could tell him where Nathan dwelt. Nathan pleasantly made him answer: “My sonne, ther is no man in these quarters that can better tel thee than I, and therfore yf thou please, I wyll bring thee thither.” Mithridanes said, that he should doe hym a very great pleasure: but he would not if it were possible bee seene or knowen of Nathan: “And that can I very wel do,” said Nathan, now that I know your mynd. Being then lighted of from his horse, he went with Nathan, who by and by interteined him with diuersity of talk, to his faire Palace: and Nathan incontinently caused one of his seruaunts to take Mithridanes’ horse, and said vnto him in hys eare that he should wyth all speede giue order to his housholde, that none should tel the younge Man that he was Nathan, which accordingly was done: but after they were in the Palace, Nathan brought Mithridanes into a very fayre chambre, that none mighte see him excepte sutch as he had appoynted to serue hym: and causinge greate honour to bee done vnto him, hee hymselfe kepte him company. As they two were together, Mithridanes asked him (to whom hee vsed conuenable reuerence as to his father) what he was? whom Nathan answered: “I am one of Nathan’s pore seruaunts, thatfrom the time of my youth haue bene broughte vp wyth him, and neuer aduaunced me to any thing but to that which you see: wherefore, although euery man greatly prayseth him, yet haue I no cause to commend hym.” These wordes gaue some hope to Mithridanes, by better aduise and surety to execute his wicked intente: and Nathan asked him very curteously what he was, and for what businesse he was come thither, offeryng him helpe and counsel in that he was able to do. Mithridanes then paused a while before he would make him answere: and in the ende purposyng to put his trust in him, required with great circumstance of wordes his fayth and after that his counsell and ayde. Then he wholy discouered what he was, wherefore he was come, and the cause that moued hym. Nathan hearing those woordes, and the mischieuous determination of Mithridanes, was chaunged and troubled in mynde, notwythstandyng wythout making any semblaunce of displeasure answered him with bolde countenaunce: “Mithridanes, thy father was a Gentleman, and of stoute stomacke, from whome so farre as I see, thou wylt not degenerate, by attemptyng so great an enterpryse as thou hast done. I intende to be lyberall to ech man and praise greatly the Enuye whych thou bearest to the Vertue of Nathan, bycause if there were many sutch, the Worlde which is now myserable, would shortly become prosperous and happye: and doe make thee promyse, that the intent thou goest about, shall be kepte secrete, whereunto I can sooner gyue Counsell than any great helpe, and mine aduyse is this: you may see from the place where we now be a lyttle Groaue, about a quarter of a Myle hence, whereunto Nathan in a maner walketh euery mornyng, and tarrieth there a long time: there you may easily finde him, and do your pleasure: and if you kyll him, you may goe, (to the intent without daunger you may returne home to your owne House) not that way you came, but by that you see on the lefte hand leade out of the wod, whych although it be not so common as the other, yet is the nearest way and safest for you to passe.” When Mithridanes was thus informed, and that Nathan departed from him, he caused worde secretly to be sent to his Men, which likewyse lodged there, in what place they should waight for him the next day: and when the day was com, Nathan not altering the counsel he gaue to Mithridanes,ne chaunging any part of the same, went all alone into the little woodde, to receiue his Death. When Mithridanes was vp, and had taken his bowe and sword, (for he had none other weapons) he mounted vpon his horse, and rode to the little woodde, where a farre of he espied Nathan, commyng thitherward all alone, and determining before he would set vppon him to see him and heare him speake, made toward him, and catchyng him by the band vpon his head, said vnto him: “Old chorle thou art dead.”WhervntoNathan made none other answer, but said, “I haue deserued it.” When Mithridanes heard his voyce and looked him in the face, he knew by and by that it was he which had curteously receiued him, familiarly kept him company, and faithfully had gyuen him counsel. Wherupon, his fury asswaged, and his anger conuerted to shame: by meanes whereof, throwing downe his sworde which he had drawn to strike him, he lighted of from his horse, and did prostrate himselfe at Nathan his father’s feete, and said vnto him weeping: “I manifestly perceiue right louing father your great lyberality, and by what pollicy you be come hyther to render to me your lyfe: whereunto I hauyng no ryght, declared my selfe desyrous to haue the same: but our Lord God, more carefull of my deuoir than my self, hath euen at the very point, when it was moste needefull, opened the eyes of myne vnderstandynge, which curssed spite and cancred enuy haue closed vp: and therefore, the more you were ready to gratify my desire, the greater punishment I knowledge my selfe to deserue for my faulte. Take then of me if it please you sutch vengance as you thynke meete for myne offence.” Nathan caused Mithridanes to rise vp, kissinge and imbracinge hym tenderly, and sayd vnto hym: “My sonne, thou needest not to demaund pardon, for the enterprise done, good or euill as thou list to name it: for thou diddest not go about to rid me of my lyfe for any hatred thou diddest bear me, but only to be accompted the better: be assured then of me, and verily beleue, that there is no lyuing man, that I loue better than thy self, considering the greatnesse of thine heart not inclyned to hoorde or gather togither the drossy muck of Syluer, as the myserable do, but to spend that which is gathered. Be not ashamed for hauing a will to kill me, thereby to greatrenowme: for Emperours and greatest kings, neuer streatched forth their power, and racked their Realmes, and consequently aspired fam, for other purpose but to kyl: not by murdering one man as thou didst meane, but of infinit numbers, besides the burning of Countries, and rasing of Cities: wherefore if to make thy selfe more famous, thou wouldest have killed me alone, thyne enterprise was not newly to be wondred at, but a thyng in dayly practise.” Mithridanes no more excusinge hys wicked intent, but praysinge the honest excuse, which Nathan had deuised, drew neare vnto hym to enter into further talke wyth hym, which was, how he greatly maruelled, that he durst approch the place, with so litle rescue, where his death was sworne, and what he meant him selfe to tell the way and meanes: wherein he required him to say his mynde, for disclosinge of the cause. Whereunto Nathan replied: “Maruell not, Mithridanes, of mine intent and purpose, for sithens I was at age disposed to myne owne free will, and determined to do that which thou hast gone about to do, neuer any came to me, but I haue contented them (so farre as I was hable) of that they did demaund: thou art come hither with desire to haue my lyfe, wherefore seeing that thou diddest craue, I forthwith dyd meane to gieue it, that thou alone mightest not be the man that should depart from hence without atchieuing thy request: and to bring to passe that thou myghtest haue the same, I gaue thee the best Counsel I could, aswel for bereuing of my lyfe, as for enioyinge of thyne owne: and therefore I say to thee agayne, and pray thee for to take it, thereby to content thy selfe, if thou haue any pleasure therein: for I do not know whych way better to imploy it. I haue all ready kept it foure score yeares, and haue consumed the same in pleasures, and delights, and do know by course of nature in other men, and generally in all things, that long it cannot reast in breathing dayes: wherefore I think good, that better it is to geue, as I haue dayly done, and departe with my Treasures, than keepe it till nature cary it away in despite of my Teeth, and maugre that I haue. It is a little gift to giue one hundred yeares, how mutch lesse is it then to giue sixe or eyght of those I haue to liue? Take it then if it please thee, I thee beseech: for neuer yet found I man that did desire the same, ne yet do know when Ishall finde sutch one, if that thy selfe which didst desire it, do not take it: and if it chaunce that I do finde some one, I know full well that so mutch the longer as I shall keepe the same the lesse esteemed it shall be, and therefore before the same be vile and of little price, take it I beseech thee.” Mithridanes sore ashamed, sayd: “God forbid, that by separating so deare a thing as is thy life, that I should take it, or onely desire the same, as I did erst, from which I would not diminish yeares, but willingly would of myne owne ad thereto if I could.” Whereunto Nathan by and by replyed: “And if thou couldest, wouldest thou gieue them? and wouldest thou cause me do to thee that which I neuer did to any man, that is to say, to take of thy things which neuer I did of any liuing person?” “Yea verily,” aunswered Mithridanes. “Then,” sayde Nathan: “thou oughtest there to doe that which I wyll tel thee: which is to remayne here in my house so younge as thou art, and beare the name of Nathan, and I would goe to thine, and bee called Mithridanes.” Then Mithridanes answered: “If I had also so great experience as thou hast, I woulde not refuse thine offer, but bicause I am assured, that my deedes woulde diminish the renoume of Nathan, I wyll not marre that in another, which I cannot redresse in my selfe: and therefore I wyll not take it.” After thys talke, and a great deale more betwene them, they repayred to the Palace, vppon the request of Nathan, where many dayes he did great honour to Mithridanes, incoraging and counselling him, so wel as he could, dayly to perseuere in his high and great indeuour. And Mithridanes desirous to returne home with his company, Nathan (after that he had let him well to know, that he was not able to surpasse him in liberality) gaue him leaue.THE NINETEENTH NOUELL.Mayster Gentil of Carisendi being come from Modena, tooke a woman out of hir graue that was buried for dead, who after she was come agayne, brought forth a Sonne, which mayster Gentil rendred afterwardes with the mother to mayster Nicholas Chasennemie her husband.Readingthis History, I consider two straung and rare chaunces: the one a lyberall and courteous act of an earnest louer towards his beloued and hir husband, in leauinge hir vntouched, and not dishonored, although in full puissance to doe his pleasure: the other a lyke liberall offre by presentinge whom he dearly loued, and a newe borne Chylde: both supposed to be dead by hir freendes, and therefore Intoumbed in Graue. Wherewithall is to bee noted the rare and singuler desire of a gentlewoman, by humble sute for conseruation of her honour, although longe time pursued by a Gentleman that reuiued hir almost from death, and thought her vtterly to be void of life. To praise the one, and to leaue the other not magnified, it were a part of discurtesy: but to extol both with shoutes, and acclamations of infinite praise no dout but very commendable. If comparisons may be made with Prynces of elder yeares, and not to note those of later, truely Mayster Gentil by that hys fact, seemeth not mutch inferior to Scipio Africanus for sparing the wyfe of Indibilis, ne yet to king Cyrus for Panthea the wyfe of Abradatus: although both of them not in equall state of loue, (as wholly estraunged from that passion) like to maister Gentil, who in deed for subduing that griefe and motion, deserueth greater prayse. For sooner is that torment auoyded at the first assault and pinch, than when it is suffred long to flame and raigne in that yelding portion of man, the heart, which once fed with the bayt of loue, is seldome or neuer loosed. To do at large to vnderstand the proofe of those most vertuous persons, thus beginneth the history. At Bologna a very notable Citty of Lombardy, there was a Knyght of very great respect for his vertue, named maister Gentil Carissendi, who in his youth fellin loue with a Gentlewoman called maistresse Katherine, the wyfe of one mayster Nicholas Chassennemie. And bicause during that loue he receiued a very ill counterchange for his affection that he bare vnto hir, he went away (like one desperate) to be the iudge and potestate of Modena, whereunto he was called. About the time that hir husband being out of Bologna, and the gentlewoman at hir Manour in the countrey, not past a mile and a halfe from the Citty, (whither she went to remayne, bicause she was with childe) it chaunced that she was sodenly surprised with a sicknesse, which was of so great force, as there was no token of lyfe in her, but rather iudged by all Phisitians to be a dead Woman. And because that hir neerest Kinne reported that they hearde hir saye, that shee could not bee longe time with Childe, but that the infante must be perfect in her wombe and ready to be deliuered, and therefore affected wyth some other disease and griefe that would bring hir to hir ende, as a Timpany or other swelling, rising of grosse humors, they thought hir a dead Woman, and past recouery: wherefore vpon a time she falling into a traunce, was verily supposed to be dead. Who after they had mourned hir death, and bewayled the sodayn expiration of hir soule, caused hir to be buried without hope of recouery (euen as she was in that extasie) in a graue of a church adioyning harde by the house wher she dwelt. Which thing incontinently was aduertised master Gentil by one of his frends, who although he was not likely, as he thought, to attayne hir fauor and in vtter dispayre therof, yet it gryeued him very mutch that no better heede was taken vnto hir, thynking by diligence and time shee woulde haue reuyued agayn, sayinge thus in the end vnto him selfe: “How now madam Katherin, that Death hath wrought his wyll wyth you, and I could neuer obteyne durynge your life one simple looke from those youre glistering eies, which lately I beheld to my great ouerthrow and decay, wherfore now when you cannot defend your self, I may bee bold (you being dead) to steale from you some desired kisse.” When hee had sayd so, beyng already Nyght, and hauynge taken order that none should know of his departure, he gat vpon his Horse, accompanied with one only seruaunt, and wythout taryinge anye where, arriued at the place where his Lady was buryed, andopening the Graue, forthwith he entred in, and laying himself downe besides hir, he approched neare hir face, and many times kissed hir, pouryng forthe great abundance of teares. But as we see the appetyte of Man not to be content excepte it proceede further (specially of sutch as bee in loue) beyng determined to tarrye no longer there, and to departe, he sayd: “Ah God, why should I goe no further, why should I not touche hir, why should I not proue whyther she be alyue or dead?” Vanquished then wyth that motyon, hee felt hir brests, and holding his hand there for a certayne tyme, perceyued hir Heart as it were to pant, and thereby some lyfe remayning in hir: wherefore so softly as he could, wyth the helpe of his man, he raised hir out of the graue: and settynge hir vppon his Horse before him, secretly caried hir home to his house at Bologna. The mother of maister Gentil dwelled there, which was a graue and vertuous Matrone, who vnderstandyng by her sonne the whole effect of that chaunce, moued wyth compassion, vnknowne to anye man, placing hir before a great fire, and comfortyng hir wyth a bathe prepared for the purpose, she recouered lyfe in the Gentlewoman that was supposed to bee deade, who so soone as she was com to hir self, threw forth a great sigh and sayd: “Alas, wher am I now?” To whom the good old woman sayd: “Be of good cheere swete hart, yee bee in a good place.” The Gentlewoman hauing wholly recouered hir senses, and looking round about hir, not yet well knowing where she was, and seing maister Gentill before hir, prayed his mother to tell hir how she came thither. To whome maister Gentil declared in order what he had done for hir, and what meanes he vsed to bryng hir thyther: wherof makyng hir complaynt, and lamentyng the lyttle regard and neglygence of hir frends, she rendred vnto hym inumerable thankes. Then she prayed him for the Loue which at other times he bare hir and for his courtesie, that she might not receyue in hys house any thing that should be dishonorable to hir person, ne yet to hir husband, but so soone as it was Daye to suffer hir to goe home to hir owne House: whereunto maister Gentil answered: “Madam, what soeuer I haue desired in time past, now am I fully purposed neuer to demaund any thyng specially in this place or in any other but the safety of your honour, and that Iwould doe to myne owne sister, sith it hath pleased God to showe me that pleasure, as by my meanes you are reuiued from death to life, and to delyuer you to mee in consideration of the loue that I haue born you heretofore: but this good worke, which this Nyghte I haue done for you, well deserueth some recompence. Wherefore my desire is, that you deny me not the pleasure which I shall demaund:” whome the gentlewoman curteously answered, that shee was very ready, so the same were honest and in hir power to doe. Then sayd mayster Gentil: “Mystresse, all your kin and al they of Bologna, doe beleue for a trouth that you bee deade, wherefore there is none that loketh for your recouery agayne: and the pleasure then whych I demaund, is that you wyll vouchsafe secretlye to tarry here wyth my mother, vntill I retourne from Modena, which shal be with so great expedition as I can: and the cause why I desire the same, is, for that I intend to make a fayre and acceptable present of you vnto your husband in the presence of the principal of this City.” The gentlewoman knowing hir self to be greatly bound to the knight, and that hys request was honest, was content to doe what hee demaunded. Albeit shee desired earnestly to reioyce hir frendes for hir recouered life, and so promised vppon hir faith. And vnnethes had she ended hir talke, but she felt the pain of chyldbirth: wherfore wyth the ayde of the mother of maister Gentil, she tarried not long before she was deliuered of a fayre Sonne, which greatly augmented the ioy of maister Gentil and hir. Mayster Gentil commaunded that she should haue al thyngs that were necessary to be ministred vnto hir, and that she should be vsed as his owne Wyfe. Then he pryuily returned to Modena, where when he had a while supplied his office, he returned to Bologna, and prepared a great feast at his house, the same morning that he arriued, for diuers gentlemen of the city, amongs whom Nicholas Chasennemie was one. When the company of the bidden guests wer com, (the gentlewoman in so good health and lykyng as euer she was, and hir Child wel and lusty), he sate down amongs them doing vnto them incomparable myrth and pastime, and serued them bountifully wyth dyuers sortes of meates. When dinner was almost done, hauing before told the Gentlewoman what he ment to doe, and in what mannershe should behaue hir selfe, he began thus to say: “My Maysters, I do remember that whilom I haue hearde tell that in the Country of Persia, there was a goodly custom (as me seemeth) that when som one was disposed to do great honour vnto his friend, he bad hym home to his house, and there shewed him the thing whych he loued best, were it wyfe, woman, or daughter, or what so euer it were, affirming that like as he disdayned not to shew the same, which outwardly he loued best, euen so he would if it were possible, willingly discouer his owne heart: whych custome I purpose to obserue in this City. Ye of your curtesie haue vouchsafed to do me so great honour, as to repayre vnto this my simple feast, which benefite I wyl recompence after the Persian manner, by shewing vnto you the thinge which I loue moste deerely aboue any in this worlde, or hereafter shal be able to loue so long as my life endureth: but before I doe the same, I pray you to tell mee your opynyon in a doubte whych I shall propose. There was a certayne person whych in hys house had a good and Faythfull Seruaunte who became extremely sick: that Person without attendyng the end of his diseased seruaunt, caused him to be caried into the midst of the streate wythout any further care for him. In the meane tyme there came a straunger by, who moued by compassion of the sicke seruaunt, bare him home to his owne house, where wyth great care and diligence, sparing no cost or charge, made him to recouer his former healthe: I would now fayne know of you, whither for retaining and vsing the seruice of that seruaunt, his first maister by good right myghte complayne vpon the seconde, if he should demaund hym agayne, or by demaunding of him agayne, the second not disposed to restore him, might susteyne any damage.” The gentlemen after many opinions and arguments debated too and fro amonges them, and at length all concluding in one mind, gaue charge to Nicholas Chasennemie, (bicause he was an eloquent talker) to make the answer: who first praising the Persians custome, said that he was, (with the rest) of this opinion, that the first maister had no further title in his seruaunt, hauing in sutch necessity not onely forsaken him, but throwen him into the streate, and that for the good turnes whych the second maister had don him, he ought by good right to be hys: wherefore by kepynghim, he did no wrong, force, or iniury to the first. Al the rest at the Table (which were very discret and honest persons) sayd altogyther that they were of hys opinion. The knight content with that answer, and specially bycause Nicholas Chasennemie had pronounced it, affyrmed that hee was likewyse of that minde, and afterwards he sayd: “Time it is then that I render vnto you the honor which you haue done me, in manner accordyngly as I haue promysed.”Then he called vnto him two of hys Seruaunts, and sent them to the Gentlewoman, whom hee had caused to be apparelled and decked very gorgeously, praying hir by hir presence to content and satisfie al the company. And she taking in hir armes hir little faire sonne, came into the hall, accompanied with the two Seruauntes, and was placed (as it pleased the kynght) besides a very honest gentleman, and then he sayde: “Syrs, behold the thing which I loue best, and purpose to loue aboue all worldly things, and whither I haue occasion so to doe, your eyes may bee Iudges.” The gentlemen doing their reuerence unto hir, greatly praised hir, and said to the Knight that ther was good reason why she oughte to be beloued: Vpon which commendations they began more attentyuely to behold hir, and many of them would haue sayd and sworne that it had bin shee in deede if it had not bin thought that she had bin dead. But Nicholas beheld hir more than the rest, who very desirous to know what she was, could not forbeare (when he saw that the Knight was a little departed from the place) to aske hir whyther shee was of Bologna, or a straunger. When the Gentlewoman saw hir husband to ask hir that question, she could scarce forbeare from making aunswere, notwithstanding to atchieue that whych was purposed, she helde hir peace. Another asked her yf that little Boye was hers: And another if shee were the Wyfe of mayster Gentil, or any kin vnto hym: vnto whom shee gaue no answere at all. But when maister Gentil came in, one of the straungers sayd vnto him: “Syr, thys gentlewoman is a very good creature, but she seemeth to be dumbe. Is it true or not?” “Syrs,”sayde maister Gentil, “that is but a little argument of hir vertue for this time to hold hir peace.” “Tell vs then (sayde he) what is she?” “That wil I do very gladly,” sayd the knight, “vnder condition that none of you shall remoue out of his place forany thing I speake, vntill I haue ended my tale:” which request being graunted, and the table taken vp, maister Gentil which was set downe by the Gentlewoman, sayd: “My maysters, this gentlewoman is the loyall and faithful seruant, of whom earst I propounded the question, whom I haue releeued from amids the streate, whither hir kin, little caring for hir, threw hir as a vile and vnprofitable thing: and haue by my great care brought to passe, that I haue discharged hir from death, vpon an affection which God knoweth to be so pure and perfect, as of a lumpe of dead lothsome flesh hee hath reuiued so fayre and freshe as you see: but to the intent you may more playnly vnderstand how it is come to passe, I will open the same in few words.” And beginning at the day when he fell in loue with hir, he particularly told them, what had chaunced till that time, to the great maruell and admiration of them that heard him, and then added these woordes: “By meanes whereof, if your minde be not chaunged within this litle time, and specially master Nicholas, of good right she is my wife, and none by iust title can clayme hir.” Whereunto none at al made answere, looking that he shoulde haue proceeded further. In the meane while Nicholas and the rest that were there, fell into earnest weepinge. But maister Gentil, rising from the borde and taking in his armes the little childe, and the gentlewoman by the hand, went towardes Nicholas, and sayd vnto him: “Rise vp sir gossip, I do not restore vnto thee thy Wife, whom thy frends and householde did cast into the Streat, but I will geue thee this Gentlewoman my Gossip, with the litle childe, that is, as I am assured begotten of thee, for whom at the christening I made answere and promise, and called him Gentil, and do pray thee that she be no lesse esteemed of thee now (for being in my house almost three moneths) than she was before. For I swere by the almighty God, who made me in loue with hir, (peraduenture that my loue might be the cause of hir preseruation) that she neuer liued more honestly with hir father, mother, or with thee, than she hath done in company of my mother.” When he had sayd so, he returned towards the Gentlewoman, and sayd vnto hir: “Maistresse, from this time forth, I discharge you of the promise which you haue made me, and leaue you to your husband franke and free.” And when hehad bestowed the gentlewoman, and the chylde in the fathers armes, he returned to his place agayne. Nicholas ioyfully receyued his Wyfe and childe, for the whych so mutch the more he reioysed, as hee was furthest of from hope of hir recouery, rendering inumerable thankes to the Knight and the rest, and moued with compassion hee wept for company, greatly praysing maister Gentil for that act, who was commended of ech man that heard the reporte thereof. The Gentlewoman was receiued into hir house wyth maruellous ioye: And longe tyme after she was gazed vpon by the Citizens of Bologna, as a thing to their great wonder reuiued agayne. Afterwards Maister Gentil continued styll a friend vnto Nicholas, and vnto hys Wyfe and Chyldren.THE TWENTIETH NOUELL.Saladine in the habite of a Marchaunt, was honourably receyued into the house of mayster Thorello, who went ouer the Sea, in company of the Christians, and assigned a terme of his wyfe when she should mary agayne. He was taken, and caried to the Sovldan to be his Faulconer, who knowing him, and suffering himself to be knowen, did him great honour. Mayster Thorello fell sicke, and by Magique Art, was caried in a night to Pavie, where he found his wyfe about to mary agayne, who knowinge him, returned home with him to his owne house.Verycomely it is (sayeth Cicero in the second booke of hys Offices,) that Noblemens houses should styll be open to noble Guestes and Straungers. A saying by the honourable and other Estates to be fixed in sure remembraunce, and accordingly practised: For hospitality and houshold intertaynment, heaping vp double gayne and commodity. The Guest it linketh and knitteth in fast band of perfect friendship, common familiarity, disporte of mynde and pleasant recreation, the poore and needy it feedeth, it cherisheth, it prouoketh in them deuout prayers, godly blessings, and seruice in tyme of neede. Hospitality is a thing so diuine, as in law of Nature and Chryst, it was well and brotherly obserued. Lot disdayned not to receyue the Aungels, which were straungers vnto him, and by reason of hys common vse thereof, and theyr frendly intertaynment, he and his houshold was delyuered from the daunger of the City, escaped temporal fire, and obteined heauenly rewarde. Abraham was a friendly host to straungers, and therefore in his old dayes, and in the barrein age of his wyfe Sara, he begat Isaac. Ietro albeit he was an Ethnicke and vnbeleuyng man, yet lyberally intertained Moyses, and maried him to Sephora, one of his Daughters. The poore widow of Sarepta interteined Helias, and Symon the Currior disdayned not Peter, nor Lydia the purple silke woman, Paule and his fellowes. Forget not Hospitality, (saith the said Apostle Paule,) for wyth the same diuers haue pleased Aungels by receiuing them into theyr houses. If Paulethe true preacher of eternall Healthe, hath so commended kepyng of good Houses which by the former terme wee call Hospitality, then it is a thing to bee vsed amonges those that bee able to mainteine the same: who ought with liberall hand frankely to reach bread and victuals to their acquaintance, but specially to straungers, whych wandering in forein places, be vtterly vnable to helpe themselues, and peraduenture in sutch neede, as without sutch curtesie, do perishe. For the further amplification of whych vertue, what shall I neede to remember straunge and prophane Histories? as of Symon of Athens, who was so famous in the same, as the tyrant Crytias, when he wished for the ryches of Scopades and the victories of Agesilaus, forgat not also to craue the liberality of Cimon. Pacuuius also, the Prynce of Campania, so friendly entertained Annibal, as when his sonne to do the Romanes a good turne, would haue killed him as he sat at supper, was staied by his fathers request (whom he made priuy of his intent before they sate downe.) Pacuuius had he not more regarded the office of hospitality, than the safety of his countrey, might ful wel by that murder, haue defended the same from the destruction whereunto afterwards it fel. Homere reporteth, that Menelaus fighting a combat with Paris of Troy made inuocation and prayer vnto the Gods, that he might be reuenged vpon him for the rape of his wife Helena, to the intent the posterity hearing of his punishmente, mighte feare to polute friendly housholde interteynment. Wherefore, sith hospitality hath bene thus put in vse in elder tyme, practysed in all ages, and the poluters of the same detested and accurssed, and hath notorious commodities incident vnto it, I deeme it so worthy to be frequented in noble men and all degrees, as theyr Palaces and great houses should swarme wyth guests, and their gates lustring with whole multitudes of the poore to be satisfied with relief. Sutch hath ben the sacred vse and reuerent care of auncient tyme. Sutch hath bene the zealous loue of those whose fieldes and barnes, closets, and chestes haue bene stored and stuffed with worldely wealth, that comparing that golden age, glistering with piety and vertue, to these our worsse than copper days, cancred with all corruption, we shal find the match so like, as darke and light, durt and Aungell golde. Ceasing then of further discourse hereof,this history folowing shall elucidate and displaye the mutuall beneuolence of two noble personages, the one a mighty Souldan, an enimy of God, but yet a fryende to those that fauored good entertainment and housekepyng: the other a Gentleman of Pauie, a rich and liberall marchaunt, and a friendly welcomer of straungers. The Souldan demaunding the way to Pauie, somewhat digressing from the same, is not onely honourably conueyed to Pauie, and feasted there, but also sumptuously cheryshed, banketted, and rewarded by the sayd Marchant before his commyng thyther. The marchant man desirous to be one of the holye voyage intended by christian Princes, passed ouer the seas, who put to his shifts there throughe the aduerse lucke receyued by the Christians, became the Souldans Fawconer, and afterwardes knowen vnto him by certaine markes and signes, is with greater honor intertained of the Souldan, and more richly guerdoned, sent home agayne by Magike Arte to anticipate the mariage of his wife, vnto whom he had prefixed a certaine date and terme to marry againe if before that tyme, he did not returne. All which Noble entertainment, and the circumstances thereof, in this manner do begin. In the time of the Emperour Fredericke the firste, the Chrystians to recouer the Holy Lande, made a generall voyage and passage ouer the Sea. Saladine a most vertuous Prynce, then Souldan of Babylon, hauing intelligence thereof, a certayne time before, determined in his own person to see and espy the preparation which the Christian Princes made for that passage, the better to prouide for his owne, and hauing put order for his affayres in Ægypt, making as though he would go on Pilgrimage, tooke his iourney in the apparel of a Marchant, accompanied only with two of his chiefest and wisest counsellers, and three seruaunts. And when he had searched and trauelled many christian prouinces, and riding through Lumbardy to passe ouer the Mountaynes, it chaunced that betweene Millan and Pauy, somwhat late he met wyth a gentleman named mayster Thorello de Istria of Pauy, who with his houshoulde, his dogges and hawkes, for his pleasure went to soiorne in one of his Manours, that was delectably placed upon the ryuer of Tesino. And when maister Thorello sawe them come, thinckinge that they were certayn Gentlemen straungers, he desired to do them honour. WhereforeSaladine demaunding of one of mayster Thorello his men, how farre it was from thence to Pauie, and whether they might come thither time inough to go in, master Thorello would not suffer his man to speake, but he himself made aunswere, saying: “sirs, yee cannot get into Pauie in time, for that the Gates will be shut before your comming.” Than sayd Saladine: “tell us then wee pray you, bicause we be straungers, where wee may lodge this night.” Maister Thorello sayd: “That will I willingly do, I was about euen presently to send one of my men that be here, so far as Pauie, about certayne businesse, him wil I appoint to be your guide to a place where you shall haue very good lodging,” and callinge one of his wysest men vnto him, he gaue him charge of that he had to do, and sent him with them, after whom he followed: where incontynently in so good order as he could, caused to be made redy a sumptuous supper, and the tables to be couered in a pleasant garden. Afterwards hee went himselfe to entertayne them. The seruaunt talking with the Gentlemen of many thinges, conducted them at leysure somwhat out of the way to protract the time, to his maysters house: and so soon as maister Thorello espied them, he with liberall heart and bountifull mynde bad them welcome. Saladine which was a very wyse man, well perceyued that the Gentleman doubted that they woulde not haue come vnto hym if he had inuited them at their first meetinge, and for that cause, to the intent they should not refuse to lodge at his house, he had pollitiquely caused them to be conducted thither, and aunsweringe hys greeting, sayd: “Syr, if a man may quarrell with them that be curteous, wee may complayne of you, who leauinge a part our way which you haue caused somewhat to be lengthened, without deseruinge your good will, otherwise than by one onely salutation, you haue constrayned vs to take and receyue this your so great curtesie.” The wise and well spoken Knight, sayd: “Syr, thys curtesie which you receyue of me, in respect of that which belongeth vnto you, as by your countenaunce I may wel coniecture, is very small, but truely out of Pauie ye could haue got no lodging that had ben good: and therefore be not displeased I pray you to be caried out of the way, to haue a little better intertaynment,” and saying so, his men came forth to receyue those straungers, andwhen they were lighted, their horsses were taken and conueyed into the stables, and mayster Thorello caryed the three Gentlemen to their chambers, which he had prepared for them, where their Bootes were pulled of, and excellent wyne brought forth, somewhat to refresh them before supper: then he held them with pleasaunt talke vntyll the houre of supper was com. Saladine and they which were with him, could all speake Latine, and therefore well vnderstanded, and they lykewise vnderstoode eche man, by meanes whereof euery of them, thought that the Gentleman was the most curteous and best conditioned Personage, indued with the most eloquent talke that euer they sawe. On the other side it seemed to mayster Thorello, that they were the noblest and Princelik personages, and far more worthy of estimation then he thought before. Wherefore, he was very angry wyth himselfe, that he had no greater company and better intertaynment for them that night, which he purposed to recompence the next day at dinner. Wherefore hee sent one of hys men to Pauie, being not farr from thence, to his wife, that was a very wise and noble gentlewoman, and afterwards he brought them into the garden where he curteously demaunded what they were. To whom Saladine answered: “we be marchaunts of Cypres trauailing to Paris, about our businesse.” Then said maister Thorello: “I would to God that this country brought forth such gentlemen as the land of Cypres maketh marchants,” and so passed the time from one talke to another, vntyll supper time came: Wherefore to honour them the better caused them to sit downe at the Table, euery of them according to his degree and place: And there they were exceadingly wel intreated and serued in good order, their supper being farre more bountifull than they looked for. And they sate not longe after that the table was taken away, but maister Thorello supposing them to be weary, caused them to be lodged in gorgeous and costly beds: and he likewyse within a while after went to bed. The seruaunt sent to Pauie, did the message to his mistresse, who not like a woman wyth a womanish heart, but like one of Princely Mind, incontinently caused many of her husband’s frends and seruaunts to be sent for. Afterwards she made ready a great feast, and inuited the noblest and chiefest Citizens of the City:apparelling hir house wyth clothe of gold and silke, tapistrie and other furnitures, putting in order all that which hir husband had commaunded. The next day in the morning the Gentleman rose, with whom maister Thorello mounted on horsebacke, and carying with him his Hawks, he brought them to the Ryuer, and shewed them diuers flightes. But Saladine demaunding where the best lodging was in Pauie, maister Thorello sayd: “I wyll shew you my selfe, for that I haue occasion to go thither.” They beleeuing him, were contented, and rode on their way, and being about nine of the clock, arriued at the City, thinking they should haue ben brought to the best Inne of the towne: but maister Thorello conueyed them to his owne house, where fiftye of the chiefest Citizens ready to receiue them sodaynly appeared before them. Which Saladine, and they that were wyth him perceyuinge, coniectured by and by what that dyd meane, and sayd: “Maister Thorello, this is not the request whych wee demaunded, your entertainment yesternight was to sumptuous and more then we desired, wherefore giue vs leaue we praye you to departe.” Whom maister Thorello answered: “My maisters, for that which ye receyued yesternight I wil giue thanks to Fortune, and not to you: for I ouertaking you by the way, forced you in a maner to make your repayre vnto my homely house: but for thys morninge voyage, I haue my selfe prepared, and likewyse the Gentlemen about you, with whom to refuse to dine, if you thincke it curtesie, doe as yee please.” Saladine and his companions vanquished wyth sutch persuation, lighted, and being receiued by the Gentlemen in louing and curteous order, were conueied to their chambers, which were richly furnished for them, and hauing put of their riding apparel, and somewhat refreshed themselues, they came into the Hall, where all things were in redinesse in triumphant sorte. Then Water was brought them to washe, and they placed at the Table, were serued wyth many delicate meats in magnificent and royal order, in sutch wise, as if the Emperour himselfe had bene there coulde not haue bene better entertayned. And albeit that Saladine and his companions were great Lordes, and accustomed to see marueylous thynges, yet they wondred very mutch at thys, considering the degree of the Knight, whom they knewe to bee but a Citizenand no Prynce or great Lord. When dinner was done, and that they had talked a little together, the weather waxing very hot, the Gentlemen of Pauie, (as it pleased mayster Thorello) went to take their rest, and he remayned wyth his three Guests: with whom he went into a chamber, where to the intent that nothing which he had and loued might be vnseene, caused his honest Wyfe to be called forth: who being very beautiful and wel fauored, clothed in rich and costly array, accompanied with her two yong sonnes, which were like to Aungels, came before them, and gratiously saluted them. When they saw her, they rose vp, and reuerently receiued hir, then they caused hir to sit downe in the mids of them, sporting and dalying with hir two fayre sonnes. But after she had pleasantly entred in talk, she asked them of whence they were, and whither they were going? To whom the Gentlemen made the same aunswere that they had done before to maister Thorello. Then the Gentlewoman sayd vnto them with smilinge cheere: “I perceyue then that mine aduice being a woman, is come well to passe. And therefore I pray you, that of your special grace you will do me this pleasure, as not to refuse or disdain the litle present that I shall bring before you, but that you take it, in consideration that women according to their little ability, giue little things, and that yee regard more the affection of the person whych offreth the gist, then the value of the giuen thing.” And causing to be brought before euery of them two fayre Roabes, the one lined with silke, and the other with Meneuayr, not in fashion of a Citizen, or of a Marchant, but Noblemanlike, andIII.Turkey gownes with sleeues of Taffata, lined with linnen cloth, she sayde vnto them: “Take I pray you these roabes, with the like whereof this day I apparelled my husband, and the other things may also serue your turnes, although they be little worth, considering that yee be farre from your Wyues, and the greatnesse of your iorney, which you haue taken, and haue yet to make, and also for that Marchantmen loue to be neat, and fine in things appertinent to their bodies.” The Gentlemen mutch maruelled, and playnly knew that Maister Thorello was disposed not to forget any one part of curtesie towards them, and doubted (by reason of the beauty and richesse of the roabes not marchantlike,) that theyshould not be knowne of mayster Thorello, notwithstandinge one of them aunswered her: “These be (Gentlewoman) very great gifts, and ought not lightly to be accepted, if your intreaty did not constraine vs, against which no denial ought to be made.” That done, when mayster Thorello returned into the chamber, the Gentlewoman tooke her leaue, and went hir way: and then shee furnished the seruants with diuers other things necessary for them, and Mayster Thorello obtayned by earnest request, that they should tary all that day. Wherefore after they had rested themselues a while, they did put on their roabes, and walked forth on horsebacke into the Citty: and when supper tyme was come, they were bountifully feasted in honorable company: and when bed time approched, went to rest. And so soone as it was day they rose, and founde in steade of their weary Hackneyes, three fat and fayre Palfreyes, and also the like number of fresh and mighty horsses for their seruaunts: Which Saladine seeing, turned towardes his companions, and sayd vnto them: “I sweare by God that ther was neuer a more liberall Gentleman, more courteous or better conditioned than this is. And if Christian kings for their part be sutch, I meane indued with sutch kingly qualities as this Gentleman is, the Souldan of Babylon shall haue inough to do to deale with one, and not to attend for all those which we see to be in preparation for inuasion of his Country.” But seeing that to refuse them or render them agayne, serued to no purpose, they thanked him very humbly, and got vppon their horse. Mayster Thorello wyth many of his frends, accompanied them out of the Citty a great peece of the way: And albeit that it mutch greeued Saladine to depart from mayster Thorello (so farre in he was already in loue with him) yet being constrayned to forgo his company, hee prayed him to returne, who although very loth to depart, sayd unto them: “Syrs, I will be gone, sith it is your pleasure I shall so do, and yet I say vnto you, that I know not what you be, ne yet demaund to know, but so farre as pleaseth you. But what soeuer yee be, you shall not make me beleue at this tyme, that yee be marchauntes, and so I bid you farewell.” Saladine hauing taken hys leaue of those that accompanied mayster Thorello, answered him: “Syr, it may come to passe, that we may let you seeour marchaundise, the better to confirme your beleefe.” And so departed. Saladine then hauing thus taken his leaue, assuredly determined if he liued, and that the Warres he looked for did not let him, to do no lesse honor to mayster Thorello, then he had done to him, and fell into great talke with his companions of him, of his Wyfe and of his things, acts and deedes, greatly praysing all his entertaynment. But after he had trauayled and vewed al the west parts, imbarkinge himselfe and his company, he returned to Alexandria, throughly informed of his enemies indeuors, prepared for his defence. Mayster Thorello returned to Pauie, and mused a long time what these three might be, but he coulde not so mutch as gesse, what they were. When the tyme of the appoynted passage for the Chrystians was come, and that great preparation generally was made, Mayster Thorello notwithstandinge the teares and prayers of his Wyfe, was fully bent to go thither, and hauinge set all thinges in order for that Voyage, and ready to get on horsebacke, he sayd vnto hir whom he perfectly loued: “Sweete Wyfe, I am goinge as thou seest, this Iourney, aswell for myne honour sake, as for health of my soule: I recommende vnto you our goodes and honor: And bycause I am not so certayne of my retourne, for a thousand accydentes that may chaunce, as I am sure to goe, I praye thee to doe mee thys pleasure, that what so euer chaunceth of mee, yf thou haue no certayne newes of my life, that yet thou tarry one yeare, one Moneth, and one day, the same terme to begin at the day of my departure.” The Gentlewoman whych bytterly wept, answered: “I know not dear husband how I shal be able to beare the sorrowe wherein you leaue mee, if you goe awaye: But yf my Lyfe bee more stronge and sharpe, than sorrowe it selfe: and whether you lyue or dye, or what so euer come of you, I wyll lyue and dye the Wyfe of Mayster Thorello, and the onely spouse of hys remembraunce.” Whereunto mayster Thorello sayde: “Sweete Wyfe, I am more than assured that touching your selfe, it wyll proue as you do promise: But you beyng a younge Woman, fayre, and well allyed, and your Vertue greate and well knowne throughoute the Countrye, I am sure that many greate Personages and gentlemen (if any suspytyon bee conceyued of my Death) wyll make requestes to your brethren and Kindred, from whose pursute(althoughe you be not disposed,) you can not defende your selfe, and it behoueth that of force, you please theyr wil, whych is the onely reason that moueth mee to demaunde that terme, and no longer tyme.” The Gentlewoman sayd: “I wil doe what I can for fulfilling of my promyse: And albeit in the ende that I shall bee constrayned to doe contrary to my lykyng, be assured that I wyll obey the charge whych nowe you haue gyuen me: And I moste humbly thanke Almyghty God, that hee neuer brought vs into these termes before this tyme.” Theyr talke ended, the Gentlewoman weepyng embraced mayster Thorello, and drawyng a Ryng from hir Fynger, she gaue it hym, sayinge: “If it chaunce that I dye before I see you, remember me when you shal beholde the same.” He receiuinge the ring, got vp vppon his horse, and takinge his leaue, went on hys voyage, and arriued at Genoua shipped himself in a Galley, and toke his way, whereunto wind and weather so fauored, as wythin fewe dayes he landed at Acres, and ioyned wyth the army of the Chrystyans: wherein began a great mortalytye and Plague, duryng which infection (what so euer was the cause) eyther by the industrie or Fortune of Saladine the rest of the Christians that escaped were almost taken and surprised by him, without any fighte or blowe stricken. All which were imprysoned in many cities, and deuided into diuers places, amongs whych prysoners maister Thorello was one, who was caryed captyue to Alexandria, where beyng not knowne, and fearyng to be knowne, forced of necessitie, gaue him selfe to the keepyng of Hawkes, a qualitie wherein he had very good skyll, whereby in the ende hee grew to the acquaintance of the Souldan, who for that occasion (not knowing him that time) toke hym out of pryson, and retayned him for his Fawconer. Maister Thorello which was called of the Souldan by none other name than Chrystian, whome hee neyther knewe, ne yet the Souldan him, had none other thing in his mynde and remembraunce but Pauia, and manye tymes assayed to escape and run away: But he neuer came to the poynt: Wherfore dyuers Ambassadoures from Genoua being come to Saladine, to raunsome certayne of theyr Prysoners, and being ready to returne, hee thought to wryte vnto his wyfe, to let hir know that he was aliue, and that hee would come home sosoone as he coulde, praying hir to tarry his retourne: Which was the effecte of hys Letter: verye earnestly desiring one of the ambassadours of his acquayntaunce to doe so mutch for hym as safely to delyuer those Letters to the Handes of the Abbot ofS. Pietro in ciel Doro, whych was hys Vncle. And Mayster Thorello standing vppon these termes, it chaunced vpon a day as Saladine was talking with him of his Hawkes, Thorello began to smyle and to make a Iesture wyth hys mouth, whych Saladine beyng at his house at Pauie did very well note, by which act Saladine began to remember him, and earnestly to viewe hym, and thought that it was he in deede. Wherefore leauing his former talke, he sayd: “Tell me Chrystian of what countrey art thou in the West parts?” “Sir” sayd Mayster Thorello, “I am a Lombarde, of a City called Pauie, a poore man and of meane estate.” So soone as Saladine heard that, as assured wherof he doubted, said to himself: “God hath giuen me a time to let thys man know how thankfully I accepted his curtesy that hee vsed towards me,”and without any more words, hauing caused all his apparell in a chamber to be set in order, he broughte him into the same and sayd: “Behold Christian, if amonges al these roabes, there be any one which thou hast seene before.”Maister Thorello began to looke vpon them, and saw those which his wyfe had giuen to Saladine: but he could not beleue that it was possible that they should be the same, notwithstanding hee answered: “Sir, I knowe them not, albeit my mind giueth me that these twayne do resemble the roabes which sometimes I ware, and caused them to be giuen to three marchaunt men that were lodged at my house.” Then Saladine not able to forbear any longer, tenderly imbraced him, saying: “You be maister Thorello de Istria, and I am one of the three Marchaunts to whom your wife gaue those roabes: and now the time is come to make you certenly beleue what my marchaundise is, as I tolde you when I departed from you that it myght come to passe.” Maister Thorello hearyng those wordes, began to be both ioyfull and ashamed, ioyfull for that he had entertained sutch a guest, and ashamed that his fare and lodging was so simple. To whom Saladine said:“maister Thorello, sith it hath pleased god to send you hither, thynke from henceforth that you be Lordof this place and not I.”andmaking great chere, and reioysing one wyth an other, he caused him to be cloathed in royall vestures, and brought him into the presence of al the Noble men of his country: and after he had rehersed many thinges of his valor and commendation, commaunded him to be honoured as his owne person, of all those which desired to haue his fauor: Which thing euery Man dyd from that time forth: but aboue the rest, the two Lords that were in company with Saladine at his house. The greatnesse of the sodain glory wherein maister Thorello sawe himselfe, did remoue oute of his mind, his affayres of Lombardie, and specially, bicause hee hoped that his letters should trustely be deliuered to the hands of his vncle. Now there was in the camp of the Christians the daye wherein they were taken by Saladine, a Gentleman of Prouince, which dyed and was buryed, called maister Thorello de Dignes, a man of great estimation: whereby (maister Thorello of Istria known through out the whole army for his nobility and prowesse) euery man that heard tell that maister Thorello was dead, beleued that it was mayster Thorello de Istria, and not he de Dignes, and by reason of his taking, the truth whether of them was deade, was vnknown: Wherfore many Italians returned with those newes, amongs whom som wer so presumptuous, as they toke vpon them to saye and affyrme that they saw him deade, and were at his burial: Whych knowen to his wyfe and his friends, was an occasion of very great and inestimable Sorrow, not onely to them: but to all other that knewe him. Very long it were to tell what great sorrow, heauinesse, and lamentation his wife did vtter, who certain moneths after shee had continually so tormented hir selfe, (and when hir grief began to decrease, being demaunded of many great personages of Lombardie) was counselled by hir brothers, and other of hir kin, to mary again. Which thing after she had many times refused, in very great anguish and dolor, finally being constrained thereunto, she yelded to the minds of hir parents: But yet vpon condicion, that the nuptials should not be celebrate vntyll sutch tyme as she had performed hir promise made to maister Thorello. Whilest the affaires of this Gentlewoman were in those termes at Pauie, and the time of hir appoyntment within eight dayes approched, itchaunced that maister Thorello vpon a day espyed a man in Alexandria, (which hee had seene before in the company of the Ambassadors of Genoua,) going into the galley that was bound with them to Genoua, wherfore causing him to be called, he demaunded what voyage they had made, and asked him when they arriued at Genoua? To whom he sayd: “Sir the Galley made a very ill voyage as I hard say in Creta, where I remayned behynd them, for being neare the coast of Sicilia there rose a maruellous tempest, which droue the galley vpon the shoare of Barbarie, and not one of them within bord escaped, amongs whom two of my brethren were likewise drowned.” Mayster Thorello giuing credite to the words of this fellow, which were very true, and remembring himselfe that the terme whych he had couenaunted with his Wyfe was almost expired, and thinkinge that they could hardly come by the knowledge of any newes of hym or of his state, beleued verily that his Wyfe was maried agayne, for sorrow whereof he fell into sutch melancholy, as he had no lust to eate or drinke, and laying him downe vpon his bed, determined to die: whych so soone as Saladine, (who greatly loued hym) did vnderstand, he came to visite him, and after that he had (through instant request) knowen the occasion of his heauinesse and disease, hee blamed him very mutch for that he did no sooner disclose vnto him his conceipt: And afterwards prayed him to be of good cheere, assuring him if he would, so to prouide as he shoulde be at Pauie, iust at the terme which he had assigned to his Wyfe: and declared vnto him the order how. Mayster Thorello geuinge credit to the words of Saladine, and hauinge many times hard say, that it was possible, and that the like had bene many times done, began to comfort himselfe, and to vse the company of Saladine, who determined fully vpon his voyage and returne to Pauie. Then Saladine commaunded one of his Nycramancers, (whose science already he had well experienced) that hee shoulde deuise the meanes how mayster Thorello might be borne to Pauie in one night, vpon a bed: Whereunto the Nycromancer aunswered that it should be done, but that it behoued for the better doing thereof, that he should be cast into a sleepe: And when Saladine had geuen order thereunto, he returned to mayster Thorello, and finding him fullypurposed to be at Pauy if it were possible at the terme which he had assigned, or if not, to die: sayd thus vnto hym: “Mayster Thorello, if you do heartely loue your Wyfe and doubt least she be maried to an other, God forbid that I should stay you by any manner of meanes, bicause of all the Women that euer I saw, she is for maners, comely behauiour, and decent order of apparell, (not remembring her beauty, which is but a fading floure) mee thyncke most worthy to bee praysed and loued. A gladsome thynge it woulde haue beene to mee (sith Fortune sent you hither) that the tyme which you and I haue to liue in this worlde, we myght haue spent together, and liued Lordes of the Kingdome which I possesse, and if God be minded not to do me that grace, at least wyse sith you be determined either to dye or to returne to Pauie, at the terme which you haue appointed, my great desire is, that I myght haue knowen the same in time, to the intente you myghte haue bene conducted thither wyth sutch honour and trayn as your Vertues do deserue: Which sith God wyl not that it bee brought to passe, and that you wyll neades be there presently, I wyll send you as I can in manner before expressed.” Whereunto maister Thorello said: “Sir, the effect (bisides your wordes) hath don me suffycient knowledge of your good wyll, which I neuer deserued, and that whych you told me, I cannot beleeue, so long as Lyfe is in me, and therefore am most certayne to dye: But sith I am so determyned, I beseeche you to do that which you haue promised out of hand, bicause to morrow is the last day of the appoyntment assigned to my wyfe.” Saladine said, that for a truth the same should be don: And the next day the Souldan purposing to send hym the nyght following, he caused to be made ready in a great hall a very fayre and rych bed, all quilted according to their manner (wyth vyluet and clothe of gold), and caused to be layed ouer the same, a Couerlet wroughte ouer with borders of very great pearles, and rich precious stones: which euer afterwardes was deemed to be an infinite treasure, and two pillowes sutelike vnto that bed: that don, he commaunded that they should inuest maister Thorello, (who now was lustie) with a Sarazine roabe, the richest and fairest thing that euer anye Man saw, and vpon his head one of his longest bands, wreathen according to theyrmanner, and being already late in the Euenyng, hee and diuers of his Barons went into the Chamber wher Mayster Thorello was, and being set down besides him, in weeping wise hee began to say: “Maister Thorello, the time of our separation doth now approche, and bicause that I am not able to accompany you, ne cause you to be waited vpon, for the qualitie of the way which you haue to passe, I must take my leaue here in this chamber, for which purpose I am come hither: Wherefore before I byd you farewel, I pray you for the loue and friendship that is betwene vs, that you do remember me if it be possible before our dayes do end, after you haue giuen order to your affayres in Lombardie, to come agayne to see me before I dye, to the end that I beyng reioyced with your second visitation, may be satisfied of the pleasure which I lose this day for your vntimely hast: and trusting that it shall come to passe, I pray you let it not be tedious vnto you to visite me wyth your letters, and to require me in thynges wherein it may lyke you to commaund, which assuredly I shall accomplish more frankely for you, than for any other liuing man.” Maister Thorello was not able to retaine teares: wherefore to staye the same, he answered him in few woordes, that it was impossible that euer hee shoulde forget his benefites, and his worthy friendship extended vpon him, and that without default he would accomplish what he had commaunded, if God did lend him life and leysure. Then Saladine louingly imbracing and kissing him, pouring forth many teares, bad him farewell, and so went oute of the chamber: And all the other Noble men afterwards tooke theyr leaue likewise of him, and departed with Saladine into the hal wher he had prepared the bed, but being already late, and the Necromancer attending, and hasting his dispatch, a Phisitian broughte him a drinke, and made him beleue that it would fortifie and strengthen him in his iorney, causing him to drinke the same: which being done within a while after he fell a sleepe, and so sleeping was borne by the commaundment of Saladine, and layd vpon the fayre bed, whereupon he placed a rich and goodly crowne of passinge pryce and valor, vpon the which he had ingrauen so plaine an inscription, as afterwards it was knowne that the same was sent by Saladine to the wife of maister Thorello. After that he put aring vpon his finger whych was beset wyth a Diamonde, so shining, as it seemed like a flamynge Torche, the Value whereof was hard to bee esteemed. Then he caused to bee girte aboute hym, a Sworde, the furniture and garnishing whereof could not easily be valued: and besides all thys, hee honge vppon hys Necke a Tablet or Brooche so beset wyth Stones, and Pearles, as the lyke was neuer seene. And afterwards he placed on either of hys sides, two exceding great Golden basens, full of double Ducates, and many cordes of Pearles and rings, girdels, and other things to tedious to reherse, wherewith he bedecked the place about him. Which done, he kissed him againe, and wylled the Necromancer to make hast. Wherfore incontinently maister Thorello, and the bed, in the presence of Saladine was caried out of sight and Saladine taried stil, deuising and talkyng of hym amongs his Barons. Maister Thorello being now laid in S. Peter Churche at Pauie, according to his request, with all his Iewels and habilliments aforesayd about him, and yet fast a slepe, the Sexten to ring to Mattens, entred the Church with light in his hand: and chauncing sodenly to espy the rych Bed, dyd not onely maruel thereat, but also ran away in great feare. And when the Abbot and the Monkes saw that hee made sutch hast away, they were abashed, and asked the cause why he ranne so fast? The Sexten tolde them the matter: “Why how now?” sayde the Abbot, “Thou art not sutch a Babe, ne yet so newlye come vnto the Church, as thou oughtest so lightly to be afraide. But let vs goe and see what bug hath so terribly frayed thee.” And then they lighted many Torches: And when the Abbot and his Monkes were entred the Church, they saw that wonderfull rich bed, and the Gentleman sleeping vpon the same. And as they were in this doubte and feere, beholding the goodly Iewels, and durst not goe neare the bed, it chaunced that maister Thorello awaked, fetchyng a gret sighe. The Monkes so soone as they saw that, and the Abbot with them, ran all away crying out, “God helpe vs, our Lord haue mercy vpon vs.” Maister Thorello opened his eyes, and playnly knew by loking round about him, that he was in the place where he demaunded to be of Saladine whereof he was very glad, and rising vp, and viewing particularily, what he had about him, albeit he knew before the magnificence of Saladine, now hethoughte it greater, and better vnderstood the same than before. But seeynge the Monkes run away, and knowyng the cause wherefore, he began to call the Abbot by hys name, and intreated hym not to bee affrayde: For he was Mayster Thorello his Nephewe. The Abbot hearyng that was dryuen into a greater feare, bicause he was accompted to bee dead diuers moneths before: but afterwards by diuers arguments, assured that hee was maister Thorello, and so often called by hys name (making a signe of the Crosse) he went vnto him. To whom maister Thorello sayd: “Whereof be you a frayd good father? I am aliue I thanke God, and from beyond the Sea returned hyther.” The Abbot (although he had a great beard, and apparelled after the guise of Arabie) crossed hymselfe agayne, and was wel assured that it was he. Then he tooke hym by the hande, and sayde vnto hym as followeth: “My Sonne thou art welcome home, and maruell not, that wee were afrayd: For there is none in all thys Citty, but doth certaynly beleeue that thou art dead. In so mutch as madame Adalietta thy Wyfe, vanquished with the prayers and threates of hir frinds and kin, agaynst hir will is betrouthed agayne, and this day the espousals shall be done. For the mariage, and all the preparation necessary for the feast, is ready.” Mayster Thorello risinge out of the rich Bed, and reioysing wyth the Abbot and all his Monks, praied euery of them not to speake one word of his comminge home, vntill he had done what he was disposed. Afterwards placing al his rich Iewels in surety and sauegard, hee discoursed vnto his vncle what had chaunced vnto hym till that time. The Abbot ioyfull for his fortune, gaue thankes to God. Then mayster Thorello demaunded of his vncle, what he was that was betrouthed to hys Wyfe. The Abbot tolde hym: To whom maister Thorello sayd: “Before my returne be knowen, I am desirous to see what Countenaunce my Wyfe wyl make at the mariage. And therefore, albeit that the religious doe not vse to repayre to sutch Feastes, yet I pray you for my sake take payne to go thither.” The Abbot aunswered that he would willingly doe so. And so soone as it was Daye, hee sente woorde to the Brydegrome, that he, and a Frende of hys, woulde bee at the mariage: whereunto the Gentleman aunswered,that he was very glade thereof. When dinner tyme was come, mayster Thorello in the habite and apparel wherein he was, went with the Lord Abbot to the weddinge dinner, where euery of them that saw him, did maruellously beholde hym, but no man knew him, bicause the Abbot aunswered them that inquired, that he was a Sarazene, sent Ambassador from the Souldan to the French Kinge. Mayster Thorello was then placed at a table which was right ouer agaynst his Wyfe, whom he beheld with great pleasure and delight, and perceyued very wel by hir face that she was not well content with that mariage. She likewise beheld him sometimes, not for any knowledge she had of hym, for his great beard and straunge attire, the firme credite and generall opinion also that hee was deade, chiefly hindred it. But when mayster Thorello thought tyme to proue whether she had any remembraunce of him, he secretly conuayed into hys hande, the ring which she gaue him at hys departure, and called a little Boy that wayted vpon hir, and sayd vnto him: “Go tell the Bryde in my behalfe, that the custome of my countrey is, that when any Straunger (as I am here) is bydden by any new maried woman (as she is now,) for a token of his welcome, she sendeth vnto him the cup wherein she drinketh full of Wyne, whereof after the straunger hath dronke what pleaseth him, he couereth the cup agayne, and sendeth the same to the Bryde, who drinketh the rest that remayneth.” The Page did his message vnto the Bryde, who like a wise Gentlewoman wel brought vp, thinking he had ben some great personage, to declare that he was welcome, commaunded a great cup all gilt, standing before hir, to be washed cleane, and to be filled ful of Wyne, and caried to the Gentleman, which accordingly was don. Mayster Thorello hauing put into hys mouth the aforesayd ring, secretly let fall the same into the Cup as he was drinking, not perceyued of any man, to the intent that she drinking the latter draught, might espy the ringe. When he had dronk, he returned the cup vnto the Bryde, who thankfully receyued the same. And for that the manner of his countrey might be accomplished, when the cup was deliuered vnto hir, she vncouered the same, and pleadging the rest of the Wyne, beheld the ring, and without speaking any word, welviewed the same, and knowing that it was the very Ring which she had geuen to maister Thorello, when he departed, tooke it out. And stedfastly did marke and looke vpon him, whom she supposed to be a straunger, and already knowinge him, cryed out as though she had bene straught of hir wittes, throwing downe the Table before hir: “This is my Lord and husband, this is of trouth Mayster Thorello.” And runnynge to the table without respect to hys apparell of Cloth of Gold, or to any thinge that was vpon the table, pressinge so neere him as she could, imbraced him very heard, not able to remoue hir handes from about his Necke for any thing that could bee sayd or done by the company that was there, vntill mayster Thorello required hir to forbeare for that present, for so mutch as she shoulde haue leysure inough to vse hir further imbracements. Then shee left him, and contented hir selfe for the tyme: but the brydale and mariage was wholly troubled and appalled for that sodayne chaunce, and the most part of the Guests excedingly reioyced for the return of that Noble knight. Then the company beinge intreated to sit and not to remoue, Maister Thorello rehearsed in open audience what had chaunced vnto him from the day of his departure vntill that tyme, concludinge with a petition to the Bridegrome, that had newly espoused his Wyfe, that he woulde not be displeased if he tooke hir agayne. The new maried Gentleman, albeit it greeued hym very sore, and thought himselfe to be mocked, aunswered liberally and like a Frende, that it was in hys power to do wyth hys owne what hee thought best. The Gentlewoman drawinge of the Rings and Garland which shee had receyued of hir newe Husbande, did put vppon hir finger the Ring which shee founde within the Cup, and likewyse the Crowne that was sent vnto hir by Saladine: And the whole troupe and assembly leauing the house where they were, went home with mayster Thorello and his wyfe, and there the kin and frends, and all the Citizens which haunted the same, and regarded it for a myracle, were with long feastinge and great cheare in great ioy and triumph. Mayster Thorello departing some of his precious Iewels to him that had bene at the cost of the marriage, likewise to the Lord Abbot and diuers others, and hauing done Saladine to vnderstand hys happy repayrehome to his Countrey, recommending himselfe for euer to his commaundement, liued with his Wyfe afterwards many prosperous yeares, vsing the vertue of curtesie more than euer hee did before. Sutch was the ende of the troubles of maister Thorello, and hys wel beloued Wyfe, and the recompence of their franke and honest curtesies.

Nihil est quod non effreno captus amore, ausit.

Nihil est quod non effreno captus amore, ausit.

As Ouide the Poet sayth:

Nothinge there is, but that the louing man doth dare,Surprised with frantike fit, eche deed he doth not spare.

Nothinge there is, but that the louing man doth dare,

Surprised with frantike fit, eche deed he doth not spare.

Wherfore let euery wight beware how they gage their honesty for any enterprise (seeme it neuer so impossible). Maistresse Dianora deerely beloued of a gentleman, and earnestly assayled, in the ende yelded vpon a condition: which if it could be brought to passe (which she thought impossible) was content to surrender to his loue: who consulting with a Magitian, performed hir request: then what folowed, and what counsel hir husband gaue hir, after she had broken the effect of hir promise to hym, and what Curtesie was vsed on all sides, the sequele hereof dyscloseth. The Countrey of Frioli although it be colde, yet is it pleasaunt by reason of many faire mountaines, riuers, and cleere sprynges that are in the same: where there is a City called Vdina, and in the same sometime dwellyng a faire gentlewoman called Mistresse Dianora, the wyfe of Gilberto, a notable rich man, a very curteous personage, and of good behauiour. This Lady, for hir graces and vertues, was intierly beloued of a Gentleman and great Lord, called maister Ansaldo Grandese, who for his liberalyty and valyance in armes, was famous and well knowen: and albeit that hee loued hir feruently, seking al meanes possible to be beloued of hir, soliciting hir many tymes by Ambassadours, yet his labour was in vayn. And the Lady being offended for hys dayly sute and trauayle, hee for al hir refusal and disagreement to his desire, would not abstaine from louing hir, but still mayntayne his importunate sute: she deuising with her selfe how to rid him away, made a request vnto him, so straunge and impossible, (in hir iudgement) as he was not able to bring the same to passe: and vpon a day she sayd vnto an old woman, (the which cam often tymes to sue vnto hir in hys behalf) these words: “Good wife, thou hast many times assured me, that Maister Ansaldo doth loue mee aboue all other, and thou hast offered vnto me maruellous giftes and presents in hys name: al which I haue refused, vpon consideration,that I mynd not to fauour or loue him for his goods: but if thou canst iustify by warrantize or other probable argument, that hee loueth me so mutch as thou sayest, I will condescend without fayle to loue him againe and to doe the thing that it shal please him to commaund me: therfore if he wil assure me to do that thing which I shal require hym to do, tel him that I am at his commaundement.” “What is that madame,” (said the old woman) “that you desire?” “The thing which I demaund” (answered the Gentlewoman) “is, that he should cause to be made here without the Citie, during the moneth of Januarie next commyng, a garden full of greene herbes, floures and trees, bespred wyth leaues, euen as it were in the moneth of May: and if so be that he do it not, then let him neuer send thee or any other vnto me agayn: for if afterwards he be importunate vpon me, like as I haue hitherto kept it close from my husbande and parents, euen so complayning vnto them, I wyll assaye to bee dispatched from hys long and tedious sute.” When the knight vnderstoode that request, and the offer that hys Mystresse made him (although it seemed a thinge very difficulte and all most impossible to bee done) knowinge very well that she did the same for none other purpose, but onely to put him out of hope that euer hee should enioy hir, hee determined notwithstandinge, to proue what hee was able to do. And for that purpose sent to seeke in many places of the Worlde if there were any man that could assist him and geue him Counsel therin. In the ende there was one found that offred to doe it (if he were well waged thereunto) by the art of Necromancie, with whom maister Ansaldo bargained for a great summe of Money. Then he expected the moneth of Ianuarie with great deuotion, whych beeing come, euen when the coldest wether was, and that al places were ful of snow and yce, this Necromancer vsed his art in sutch sort, as in the night after the holy dais of Christmasse, in a faire medow adioyning to the city, ther appered in the morning (as they can testify that saw the same) one of the fairest gardens that euer any man saw, full of herbes, trees, and fruites of all sortes: which when maister Ansaldo had seen, God knoweth if he were glad or not: and incontinently caused to be gathered the fairest fruites and floures that were there, and secretlyesente the same to his Friende, inuiting hir to come and see the Garden which she had procured him to make, to the intent thereby she might know the loue that he bare hir, and to remember the promise which she made him, and confirmed by othe, that he might from that time forth esteeme hir a woman so good as hir promise. When the Gentlewoman sawe the flowers and fruictes and hearing tell by report of the straunge things that were in that Garden, began to repent hir selfe of the promise which shee had made: but for all her repentaunce, she like one desirous to se straung things, wente wyth many other women to see the same: and hauing praised it, not wythout greate admiration, she returned home, the angriest woman that euer was, when she had considered in what sort she had abused hir selfe by meanes of that Garden: and hir rage was so greate, that she could by no meanes keepe the same so secrete or close, but that her husband muste perceiue the same, who woulde needes knowe of hir al the whole matter: the Gentlewoman a long time kepte it secrete: in the ende she was constrained to declare vnto him the same in order. Hir husbande hearing what she had promised was sodainly very angry: afterwardes considering the pure intente of his wife, hee wisely appeaseed hir, and sayd: “Dianora, it is not the acte of a wyse and vertuouse wife to encline hir eare to sutch messages as those be, and lesse honest to make any marte or bargain of hir honesty with any person, vnder what condicion soeuer it be. Words which the hart receiueth by the eares, haue greater force than many do esteme, and there is nothing so difficult, but by the amorous is brought to passe. First therfore thou hast done euil to giue eare vnto such ambassage, and afterwards for agreement to the bargaine: for the weight of chastity is so ponderous, as by no meanes it ought to be laid in balance, eyther by impossibilities to boast and bragge therof, or else by assurance of their conceiued thought to bring it into question, leaste in all places the same may be dysputed vpon, and blemysh with the note of lightnesse, the person tyll that time vnspotted: but bycause I know the purity of thy heart, I wyll agree vnto thee for discharge of thy promise, whych peraduenture, some other would not doe, moued therunto for the feare I haue of the Necromancer, who if he see MaysterAnsaldo to be offended bicause thou hast deluded hym, may doe vs some displeasure: wherfore I wyll that thou go to maister Ansaldo, and if thou canest by any meanes to vse thy selfe (as thyne honour saued) thou mayst discharge thy promise, I shall commende thy wit: but if there be no remedye otherwyse, for that onely time then lende forth thy Body and not thy wyll.” The gentlewoman hearyng hir husband so wisely speake, could doe nought else but weepe, and sayd, that she would not agree to his requeste. Notwythstanding, it pleased the husband (for al the denial whych his wife did make) that it shoulde be so: by meanes wherof, the next morning vpon the point of day the Gentlewoman in the homliest attire she had, with two of hir seruantes before, and hir mayde behinde, wente to the lodging of maister Ansaldo, who when he hearde tell that hys Louer was come to see hym, maruelled mutch, and rising vp, called the Necromancer, and sayde vnto him: “My wyll is, that thou see how mutch thyne arte hath preuailed:” and going vnto hir, without any disordinate lust, he saluted hir wyth reuerence, and honestly receiued hir. Then they entred into a faire Chamber, and sittyng downe before a great fire, he sayde vnto hir these Wordes: “Madame, I humbly beseeche you, if the loue which I haue borne you of long time, and yet doe beare, deserue some recompence, that it please you to tell me vnfainedly the cause which haue made you to come hither thus early, and with such a company.” The shamefast Gentlewoman, hir eyes ful of teares, made answere: “Sir, the loue which I beare you, nor any promised faith haue brought me hither, but rather the only commaundement of my husband, who hath greater respect to the payne and trauaile of your disordinate loue, than to his own honour or my reputation, who hath caused me to come hither, and by hys commaundement am redy for this once to satisfie your pleasure.” If Mayster Ansaldo were abashed at the begynnyng, be much more did maruell when he hearde the Gentlewoman thus to speake, and moued with the liberality of hir husband, he began to chaunge his heate into compassion, and said: “Mistresse, God defend if it be true that you do say, that I should soyle the honour of hym, whych hath pity vpon my loue, and therefore you may tarrie here so long as it shall please you,with sutch assurance of your honesty as if you were my naturall sister, and frankly may depart when you be disposed, vpon sutch condicion, that you render in my behalf those thanks vnto your husband which you shal thinke conuenient, for the great liberality whych he hath imployed vpon me, deeming my selfe henceforth so much bound vnto him, as if I were his brother or Seruaunt.” The Gentlewoman hearing those wordes, the best contented that euer was, sayd vnto him: “All the worlde could neuer make me beleue (your great honesty considered) that other thing could happen vnto mee by my commyng hyther, than that which presently I see: for which I recken my selfe perpetually bounde vnto you.” And takynge hir leaue, honorablye returned in the aforesayde company home to hir husband, and tolde hym what had chaunced, which engendred perfect loue and amytye betweene hym and mayster Ansaldo. The Necromancer to whom maister Ansaldo determined to gyue the price, couenanted betwene them, seyng the liberality which the husbande had vsed towards mayster Ansaldo, and the like of mayster Ansaldo towards the Gentlewoman, sayd: “God defend, that sith I haue seene the husband lyberall of his honour, and you bountiful of your loue and curtesie, but that I be likewyse franke in my reward: for knowing that it is well employed of you, I purpose that you shall keepe it still.” The knyghte was ashamed, and would haue forced him to take the whole, or part: but in offryng the same, he lost his laboure: and the Necromancer the third day after, hauying vndon his Garden, and desirous to departe, tooke his leaue. Thus Ansaldo extinguishing the dishonest loue kindled in hys hearte, for inioying of his Lady, vpon consideration of honest charity, and regard of Curtesie, repressed his wanton minde, and absteyned from that which God graunte that others by lik Example may refrayne.

Mithridanes enuious of the liberality of Nathan, and goinge aboute to kill hym, spake vnto him vnknowne, & being infourmed by himself by what meanes he might do the same he found him in a little wood accordingly as hee had tolde him, who knowinge him, was ashamed, and became his friende.

Straungemay seeme thys following Hystory, and rare amonges those, in whom the vertue of liberality neuer florished: many we reade of, that haue kept Noble and bountifull houses, entertayninge Guestes, both Forrayne and free borne, plentifully Feastinge them with variety of cheere, but to entertayne a Guest that aspyreth the death of his hoast, and to cherishe hym after hee knew of it, or liberally to offer his life, seldome or neuer we reade, or by experience knowe: but what moued the conspirator to frowne at the state and life of Nathan? euen that froward pestilent passion Enuy, the consumer and deadly monster of all humanity: who imitatinge the like cost, and port of his deuout hoast Nathan, and seekinge after equall glory and fame, was through enuie’s force for not attayninge the like, driuen to imagine how to kill a good and innocent man: for enuy commonly wayteth vpon the vertuous, euen as the shadow doeth the body. And as the Cantharides (which similitude Plutarch vseth) delight in ripe and prosperous wheate, and crawle in spreadinge roses, so enuy chiefly them which in vertue and richesse do abound: for had not Nathan bene famous for hys goodnesse, and glorious for liberality, Mithridanes would neuer haue prosecuted him by enuy, nor gon about to berieue hys lyfe. He that enuieth the vertuous and industrious person, may bee compared to Dedalus, whom the Poets fayne to murder Telon hys Apprentice for deuising of the Potter’s wheele: and Mithridanes disdaynfull of Nathan’s hospitality, would haue slayne him: but how ashamed Mithridanes was of his practise, this example at large discourseth. Very true it is (at least wyse if credite may bee gieuen to the words of certayne Genoua Merchauntes, and of others whych haue trauayled thatcountrey) how in Cataya, there was sometimes a rich Gentleman without comparison, named Nathan, who hauing a place or Pallace ioyning vpon the high way, by which the trauaylers to and from the West, and East, were constrayned to passe, and hauing a noble and liberal heart, desirous by experience to haue the same to be knowen, and wyth what nature and quality it was affected, he assembled dyuers maister Masons and Carpenters, and in short tyme erected there one of the stateliest Pallaces for greatnesse and costly furniture that euer was seene in that countrey, which afterwards he caused to be stored with all things necessary, honourably to entertayne ech Gentleman that passed that way: and with a great trayne of seruantes he welcomed and accepted sutch as iourneyed to and fro. And in this commendable custome he perseuered so longe as both in the East and West partes, report was bruted of his renoume and fame: and being come to auncient yeares, not for all that weary of his liberality, it chaunced that his fame flewe to the eares of a yong gentleman called Mithridanes, who in a country not farre of from his, had his abode and resiance. Mithridanes knowing himselfe to be so rich as Nathan, enuious of his vertue and liberality, purposed by some meanes or other to defame and obscure his neyghbour’s good reporte: and hauing builded a Palace like to that which Nathan did possesse, began to vse curtesies to those which passed to and fro, in outragious and disordred sort: whereby in little time he purchased great fame. Now it chaunced vpon a day, as Mithridanes was alone in the court of his Palace, a poore woman entring in at one of the gates of the same, craued almes, and had it and so successiuely euen to the twelfth and thirtenth time, also she retorned agayne, which Mithridanes perceiuing, said vnto her: “Good wyfe you come hither very often:” and yet he denied not hir almes. The old woman hearing those words, sayd: “O how maruellous is the liberality of Nathan, whose palace hathXXXII.entries by seuerall gates, so greate as this, and daily begging almes there, neuer made semblance as though he knew me, and yet the same was not denied me: and being come hither butXIII.times, I haue bene marked and reproued:” and saying so, she went her way, and neuer after came thither agayne. Mithridanes hearyng thesewordes to proceede from the old woman fell into a great rage, deeming the fame reported of Nathan to be a diminution of his own, and said: “Ah wretch, when shal I be able to attayne the liberality of Nathan’s greatest things? and why then goe I about to excel him, when in litle matters I am not able to come neare him? verily I labour all in vaine, if I myselfe do not seeke meanes to rid him of his life, sith croked age is not disposed to dispatch him, I must therfore doe the same with myne own hands.”And in that fury makyng no man priuy to his intent, he rode forth with a smal traine, and in three dayes arriued where Nathan dwelte, and then commaunded his men in any wise not to be knowen that they came with him, and likewise that they knewe him not, but to prouide lodging for themselues, vntyll sutch tyme as they had further newes from him. Mithridanes then being arriued about evening, al alone, found Nathan walking vp and downe before his faire Palace, without other company than himself, who in simple attire and garment went forth to meete him: of whom Mithridanes, bicause he knew not Nathan, demaunded if he could tell him where Nathan dwelt. Nathan pleasantly made him answer: “My sonne, ther is no man in these quarters that can better tel thee than I, and therfore yf thou please, I wyll bring thee thither.” Mithridanes said, that he should doe hym a very great pleasure: but he would not if it were possible bee seene or knowen of Nathan: “And that can I very wel do,” said Nathan, now that I know your mynd. Being then lighted of from his horse, he went with Nathan, who by and by interteined him with diuersity of talk, to his faire Palace: and Nathan incontinently caused one of his seruaunts to take Mithridanes’ horse, and said vnto him in hys eare that he should wyth all speede giue order to his housholde, that none should tel the younge Man that he was Nathan, which accordingly was done: but after they were in the Palace, Nathan brought Mithridanes into a very fayre chambre, that none mighte see him excepte sutch as he had appoynted to serue hym: and causinge greate honour to bee done vnto him, hee hymselfe kepte him company. As they two were together, Mithridanes asked him (to whom hee vsed conuenable reuerence as to his father) what he was? whom Nathan answered: “I am one of Nathan’s pore seruaunts, thatfrom the time of my youth haue bene broughte vp wyth him, and neuer aduaunced me to any thing but to that which you see: wherefore, although euery man greatly prayseth him, yet haue I no cause to commend hym.” These wordes gaue some hope to Mithridanes, by better aduise and surety to execute his wicked intente: and Nathan asked him very curteously what he was, and for what businesse he was come thither, offeryng him helpe and counsel in that he was able to do. Mithridanes then paused a while before he would make him answere: and in the ende purposyng to put his trust in him, required with great circumstance of wordes his fayth and after that his counsell and ayde. Then he wholy discouered what he was, wherefore he was come, and the cause that moued hym. Nathan hearing those woordes, and the mischieuous determination of Mithridanes, was chaunged and troubled in mynde, notwythstandyng wythout making any semblaunce of displeasure answered him with bolde countenaunce: “Mithridanes, thy father was a Gentleman, and of stoute stomacke, from whome so farre as I see, thou wylt not degenerate, by attemptyng so great an enterpryse as thou hast done. I intende to be lyberall to ech man and praise greatly the Enuye whych thou bearest to the Vertue of Nathan, bycause if there were many sutch, the Worlde which is now myserable, would shortly become prosperous and happye: and doe make thee promyse, that the intent thou goest about, shall be kepte secrete, whereunto I can sooner gyue Counsell than any great helpe, and mine aduyse is this: you may see from the place where we now be a lyttle Groaue, about a quarter of a Myle hence, whereunto Nathan in a maner walketh euery mornyng, and tarrieth there a long time: there you may easily finde him, and do your pleasure: and if you kyll him, you may goe, (to the intent without daunger you may returne home to your owne House) not that way you came, but by that you see on the lefte hand leade out of the wod, whych although it be not so common as the other, yet is the nearest way and safest for you to passe.” When Mithridanes was thus informed, and that Nathan departed from him, he caused worde secretly to be sent to his Men, which likewyse lodged there, in what place they should waight for him the next day: and when the day was com, Nathan not altering the counsel he gaue to Mithridanes,ne chaunging any part of the same, went all alone into the little woodde, to receiue his Death. When Mithridanes was vp, and had taken his bowe and sword, (for he had none other weapons) he mounted vpon his horse, and rode to the little woodde, where a farre of he espied Nathan, commyng thitherward all alone, and determining before he would set vppon him to see him and heare him speake, made toward him, and catchyng him by the band vpon his head, said vnto him: “Old chorle thou art dead.”WhervntoNathan made none other answer, but said, “I haue deserued it.” When Mithridanes heard his voyce and looked him in the face, he knew by and by that it was he which had curteously receiued him, familiarly kept him company, and faithfully had gyuen him counsel. Wherupon, his fury asswaged, and his anger conuerted to shame: by meanes whereof, throwing downe his sworde which he had drawn to strike him, he lighted of from his horse, and did prostrate himselfe at Nathan his father’s feete, and said vnto him weeping: “I manifestly perceiue right louing father your great lyberality, and by what pollicy you be come hyther to render to me your lyfe: whereunto I hauyng no ryght, declared my selfe desyrous to haue the same: but our Lord God, more carefull of my deuoir than my self, hath euen at the very point, when it was moste needefull, opened the eyes of myne vnderstandynge, which curssed spite and cancred enuy haue closed vp: and therefore, the more you were ready to gratify my desire, the greater punishment I knowledge my selfe to deserue for my faulte. Take then of me if it please you sutch vengance as you thynke meete for myne offence.” Nathan caused Mithridanes to rise vp, kissinge and imbracinge hym tenderly, and sayd vnto hym: “My sonne, thou needest not to demaund pardon, for the enterprise done, good or euill as thou list to name it: for thou diddest not go about to rid me of my lyfe for any hatred thou diddest bear me, but only to be accompted the better: be assured then of me, and verily beleue, that there is no lyuing man, that I loue better than thy self, considering the greatnesse of thine heart not inclyned to hoorde or gather togither the drossy muck of Syluer, as the myserable do, but to spend that which is gathered. Be not ashamed for hauing a will to kill me, thereby to greatrenowme: for Emperours and greatest kings, neuer streatched forth their power, and racked their Realmes, and consequently aspired fam, for other purpose but to kyl: not by murdering one man as thou didst meane, but of infinit numbers, besides the burning of Countries, and rasing of Cities: wherefore if to make thy selfe more famous, thou wouldest have killed me alone, thyne enterprise was not newly to be wondred at, but a thyng in dayly practise.” Mithridanes no more excusinge hys wicked intent, but praysinge the honest excuse, which Nathan had deuised, drew neare vnto hym to enter into further talke wyth hym, which was, how he greatly maruelled, that he durst approch the place, with so litle rescue, where his death was sworne, and what he meant him selfe to tell the way and meanes: wherein he required him to say his mynde, for disclosinge of the cause. Whereunto Nathan replied: “Maruell not, Mithridanes, of mine intent and purpose, for sithens I was at age disposed to myne owne free will, and determined to do that which thou hast gone about to do, neuer any came to me, but I haue contented them (so farre as I was hable) of that they did demaund: thou art come hither with desire to haue my lyfe, wherefore seeing that thou diddest craue, I forthwith dyd meane to gieue it, that thou alone mightest not be the man that should depart from hence without atchieuing thy request: and to bring to passe that thou myghtest haue the same, I gaue thee the best Counsel I could, aswel for bereuing of my lyfe, as for enioyinge of thyne owne: and therefore I say to thee agayne, and pray thee for to take it, thereby to content thy selfe, if thou haue any pleasure therein: for I do not know whych way better to imploy it. I haue all ready kept it foure score yeares, and haue consumed the same in pleasures, and delights, and do know by course of nature in other men, and generally in all things, that long it cannot reast in breathing dayes: wherefore I think good, that better it is to geue, as I haue dayly done, and departe with my Treasures, than keepe it till nature cary it away in despite of my Teeth, and maugre that I haue. It is a little gift to giue one hundred yeares, how mutch lesse is it then to giue sixe or eyght of those I haue to liue? Take it then if it please thee, I thee beseech: for neuer yet found I man that did desire the same, ne yet do know when Ishall finde sutch one, if that thy selfe which didst desire it, do not take it: and if it chaunce that I do finde some one, I know full well that so mutch the longer as I shall keepe the same the lesse esteemed it shall be, and therefore before the same be vile and of little price, take it I beseech thee.” Mithridanes sore ashamed, sayd: “God forbid, that by separating so deare a thing as is thy life, that I should take it, or onely desire the same, as I did erst, from which I would not diminish yeares, but willingly would of myne owne ad thereto if I could.” Whereunto Nathan by and by replyed: “And if thou couldest, wouldest thou gieue them? and wouldest thou cause me do to thee that which I neuer did to any man, that is to say, to take of thy things which neuer I did of any liuing person?” “Yea verily,” aunswered Mithridanes. “Then,” sayde Nathan: “thou oughtest there to doe that which I wyll tel thee: which is to remayne here in my house so younge as thou art, and beare the name of Nathan, and I would goe to thine, and bee called Mithridanes.” Then Mithridanes answered: “If I had also so great experience as thou hast, I woulde not refuse thine offer, but bicause I am assured, that my deedes woulde diminish the renoume of Nathan, I wyll not marre that in another, which I cannot redresse in my selfe: and therefore I wyll not take it.” After thys talke, and a great deale more betwene them, they repayred to the Palace, vppon the request of Nathan, where many dayes he did great honour to Mithridanes, incoraging and counselling him, so wel as he could, dayly to perseuere in his high and great indeuour. And Mithridanes desirous to returne home with his company, Nathan (after that he had let him well to know, that he was not able to surpasse him in liberality) gaue him leaue.

Mayster Gentil of Carisendi being come from Modena, tooke a woman out of hir graue that was buried for dead, who after she was come agayne, brought forth a Sonne, which mayster Gentil rendred afterwardes with the mother to mayster Nicholas Chasennemie her husband.

Readingthis History, I consider two straung and rare chaunces: the one a lyberall and courteous act of an earnest louer towards his beloued and hir husband, in leauinge hir vntouched, and not dishonored, although in full puissance to doe his pleasure: the other a lyke liberall offre by presentinge whom he dearly loued, and a newe borne Chylde: both supposed to be dead by hir freendes, and therefore Intoumbed in Graue. Wherewithall is to bee noted the rare and singuler desire of a gentlewoman, by humble sute for conseruation of her honour, although longe time pursued by a Gentleman that reuiued hir almost from death, and thought her vtterly to be void of life. To praise the one, and to leaue the other not magnified, it were a part of discurtesy: but to extol both with shoutes, and acclamations of infinite praise no dout but very commendable. If comparisons may be made with Prynces of elder yeares, and not to note those of later, truely Mayster Gentil by that hys fact, seemeth not mutch inferior to Scipio Africanus for sparing the wyfe of Indibilis, ne yet to king Cyrus for Panthea the wyfe of Abradatus: although both of them not in equall state of loue, (as wholly estraunged from that passion) like to maister Gentil, who in deed for subduing that griefe and motion, deserueth greater prayse. For sooner is that torment auoyded at the first assault and pinch, than when it is suffred long to flame and raigne in that yelding portion of man, the heart, which once fed with the bayt of loue, is seldome or neuer loosed. To do at large to vnderstand the proofe of those most vertuous persons, thus beginneth the history. At Bologna a very notable Citty of Lombardy, there was a Knyght of very great respect for his vertue, named maister Gentil Carissendi, who in his youth fellin loue with a Gentlewoman called maistresse Katherine, the wyfe of one mayster Nicholas Chassennemie. And bicause during that loue he receiued a very ill counterchange for his affection that he bare vnto hir, he went away (like one desperate) to be the iudge and potestate of Modena, whereunto he was called. About the time that hir husband being out of Bologna, and the gentlewoman at hir Manour in the countrey, not past a mile and a halfe from the Citty, (whither she went to remayne, bicause she was with childe) it chaunced that she was sodenly surprised with a sicknesse, which was of so great force, as there was no token of lyfe in her, but rather iudged by all Phisitians to be a dead Woman. And because that hir neerest Kinne reported that they hearde hir saye, that shee could not bee longe time with Childe, but that the infante must be perfect in her wombe and ready to be deliuered, and therefore affected wyth some other disease and griefe that would bring hir to hir ende, as a Timpany or other swelling, rising of grosse humors, they thought hir a dead Woman, and past recouery: wherefore vpon a time she falling into a traunce, was verily supposed to be dead. Who after they had mourned hir death, and bewayled the sodayn expiration of hir soule, caused hir to be buried without hope of recouery (euen as she was in that extasie) in a graue of a church adioyning harde by the house wher she dwelt. Which thing incontinently was aduertised master Gentil by one of his frends, who although he was not likely, as he thought, to attayne hir fauor and in vtter dispayre therof, yet it gryeued him very mutch that no better heede was taken vnto hir, thynking by diligence and time shee woulde haue reuyued agayn, sayinge thus in the end vnto him selfe: “How now madam Katherin, that Death hath wrought his wyll wyth you, and I could neuer obteyne durynge your life one simple looke from those youre glistering eies, which lately I beheld to my great ouerthrow and decay, wherfore now when you cannot defend your self, I may bee bold (you being dead) to steale from you some desired kisse.” When hee had sayd so, beyng already Nyght, and hauynge taken order that none should know of his departure, he gat vpon his Horse, accompanied with one only seruaunt, and wythout taryinge anye where, arriued at the place where his Lady was buryed, andopening the Graue, forthwith he entred in, and laying himself downe besides hir, he approched neare hir face, and many times kissed hir, pouryng forthe great abundance of teares. But as we see the appetyte of Man not to be content excepte it proceede further (specially of sutch as bee in loue) beyng determined to tarrye no longer there, and to departe, he sayd: “Ah God, why should I goe no further, why should I not touche hir, why should I not proue whyther she be alyue or dead?” Vanquished then wyth that motyon, hee felt hir brests, and holding his hand there for a certayne tyme, perceyued hir Heart as it were to pant, and thereby some lyfe remayning in hir: wherefore so softly as he could, wyth the helpe of his man, he raised hir out of the graue: and settynge hir vppon his Horse before him, secretly caried hir home to his house at Bologna. The mother of maister Gentil dwelled there, which was a graue and vertuous Matrone, who vnderstandyng by her sonne the whole effect of that chaunce, moued wyth compassion, vnknowne to anye man, placing hir before a great fire, and comfortyng hir wyth a bathe prepared for the purpose, she recouered lyfe in the Gentlewoman that was supposed to bee deade, who so soone as she was com to hir self, threw forth a great sigh and sayd: “Alas, wher am I now?” To whom the good old woman sayd: “Be of good cheere swete hart, yee bee in a good place.” The Gentlewoman hauing wholly recouered hir senses, and looking round about hir, not yet well knowing where she was, and seing maister Gentill before hir, prayed his mother to tell hir how she came thither. To whome maister Gentil declared in order what he had done for hir, and what meanes he vsed to bryng hir thyther: wherof makyng hir complaynt, and lamentyng the lyttle regard and neglygence of hir frends, she rendred vnto hym inumerable thankes. Then she prayed him for the Loue which at other times he bare hir and for his courtesie, that she might not receyue in hys house any thing that should be dishonorable to hir person, ne yet to hir husband, but so soone as it was Daye to suffer hir to goe home to hir owne House: whereunto maister Gentil answered: “Madam, what soeuer I haue desired in time past, now am I fully purposed neuer to demaund any thyng specially in this place or in any other but the safety of your honour, and that Iwould doe to myne owne sister, sith it hath pleased God to showe me that pleasure, as by my meanes you are reuiued from death to life, and to delyuer you to mee in consideration of the loue that I haue born you heretofore: but this good worke, which this Nyghte I haue done for you, well deserueth some recompence. Wherefore my desire is, that you deny me not the pleasure which I shall demaund:” whome the gentlewoman curteously answered, that shee was very ready, so the same were honest and in hir power to doe. Then sayd mayster Gentil: “Mystresse, all your kin and al they of Bologna, doe beleue for a trouth that you bee deade, wherefore there is none that loketh for your recouery agayne: and the pleasure then whych I demaund, is that you wyll vouchsafe secretlye to tarry here wyth my mother, vntill I retourne from Modena, which shal be with so great expedition as I can: and the cause why I desire the same, is, for that I intend to make a fayre and acceptable present of you vnto your husband in the presence of the principal of this City.” The gentlewoman knowing hir self to be greatly bound to the knight, and that hys request was honest, was content to doe what hee demaunded. Albeit shee desired earnestly to reioyce hir frendes for hir recouered life, and so promised vppon hir faith. And vnnethes had she ended hir talke, but she felt the pain of chyldbirth: wherfore wyth the ayde of the mother of maister Gentil, she tarried not long before she was deliuered of a fayre Sonne, which greatly augmented the ioy of maister Gentil and hir. Mayster Gentil commaunded that she should haue al thyngs that were necessary to be ministred vnto hir, and that she should be vsed as his owne Wyfe. Then he pryuily returned to Modena, where when he had a while supplied his office, he returned to Bologna, and prepared a great feast at his house, the same morning that he arriued, for diuers gentlemen of the city, amongs whom Nicholas Chasennemie was one. When the company of the bidden guests wer com, (the gentlewoman in so good health and lykyng as euer she was, and hir Child wel and lusty), he sate down amongs them doing vnto them incomparable myrth and pastime, and serued them bountifully wyth dyuers sortes of meates. When dinner was almost done, hauing before told the Gentlewoman what he ment to doe, and in what mannershe should behaue hir selfe, he began thus to say: “My Maysters, I do remember that whilom I haue hearde tell that in the Country of Persia, there was a goodly custom (as me seemeth) that when som one was disposed to do great honour vnto his friend, he bad hym home to his house, and there shewed him the thing whych he loued best, were it wyfe, woman, or daughter, or what so euer it were, affirming that like as he disdayned not to shew the same, which outwardly he loued best, euen so he would if it were possible, willingly discouer his owne heart: whych custome I purpose to obserue in this City. Ye of your curtesie haue vouchsafed to do me so great honour, as to repayre vnto this my simple feast, which benefite I wyl recompence after the Persian manner, by shewing vnto you the thinge which I loue moste deerely aboue any in this worlde, or hereafter shal be able to loue so long as my life endureth: but before I doe the same, I pray you to tell mee your opynyon in a doubte whych I shall propose. There was a certayne person whych in hys house had a good and Faythfull Seruaunte who became extremely sick: that Person without attendyng the end of his diseased seruaunt, caused him to be caried into the midst of the streate wythout any further care for him. In the meane tyme there came a straunger by, who moued by compassion of the sicke seruaunt, bare him home to his owne house, where wyth great care and diligence, sparing no cost or charge, made him to recouer his former healthe: I would now fayne know of you, whither for retaining and vsing the seruice of that seruaunt, his first maister by good right myghte complayne vpon the seconde, if he should demaund hym agayne, or by demaunding of him agayne, the second not disposed to restore him, might susteyne any damage.” The gentlemen after many opinions and arguments debated too and fro amonges them, and at length all concluding in one mind, gaue charge to Nicholas Chasennemie, (bicause he was an eloquent talker) to make the answer: who first praising the Persians custome, said that he was, (with the rest) of this opinion, that the first maister had no further title in his seruaunt, hauing in sutch necessity not onely forsaken him, but throwen him into the streate, and that for the good turnes whych the second maister had don him, he ought by good right to be hys: wherefore by kepynghim, he did no wrong, force, or iniury to the first. Al the rest at the Table (which were very discret and honest persons) sayd altogyther that they were of hys opinion. The knight content with that answer, and specially bycause Nicholas Chasennemie had pronounced it, affyrmed that hee was likewyse of that minde, and afterwards he sayd: “Time it is then that I render vnto you the honor which you haue done me, in manner accordyngly as I haue promysed.”Then he called vnto him two of hys Seruaunts, and sent them to the Gentlewoman, whom hee had caused to be apparelled and decked very gorgeously, praying hir by hir presence to content and satisfie al the company. And she taking in hir armes hir little faire sonne, came into the hall, accompanied with the two Seruauntes, and was placed (as it pleased the kynght) besides a very honest gentleman, and then he sayde: “Syrs, behold the thing which I loue best, and purpose to loue aboue all worldly things, and whither I haue occasion so to doe, your eyes may bee Iudges.” The gentlemen doing their reuerence unto hir, greatly praised hir, and said to the Knight that ther was good reason why she oughte to be beloued: Vpon which commendations they began more attentyuely to behold hir, and many of them would haue sayd and sworne that it had bin shee in deede if it had not bin thought that she had bin dead. But Nicholas beheld hir more than the rest, who very desirous to know what she was, could not forbeare (when he saw that the Knight was a little departed from the place) to aske hir whyther shee was of Bologna, or a straunger. When the Gentlewoman saw hir husband to ask hir that question, she could scarce forbeare from making aunswere, notwithstanding to atchieue that whych was purposed, she helde hir peace. Another asked her yf that little Boye was hers: And another if shee were the Wyfe of mayster Gentil, or any kin vnto hym: vnto whom shee gaue no answere at all. But when maister Gentil came in, one of the straungers sayd vnto him: “Syr, thys gentlewoman is a very good creature, but she seemeth to be dumbe. Is it true or not?” “Syrs,”sayde maister Gentil, “that is but a little argument of hir vertue for this time to hold hir peace.” “Tell vs then (sayde he) what is she?” “That wil I do very gladly,” sayd the knight, “vnder condition that none of you shall remoue out of his place forany thing I speake, vntill I haue ended my tale:” which request being graunted, and the table taken vp, maister Gentil which was set downe by the Gentlewoman, sayd: “My maysters, this gentlewoman is the loyall and faithful seruant, of whom earst I propounded the question, whom I haue releeued from amids the streate, whither hir kin, little caring for hir, threw hir as a vile and vnprofitable thing: and haue by my great care brought to passe, that I haue discharged hir from death, vpon an affection which God knoweth to be so pure and perfect, as of a lumpe of dead lothsome flesh hee hath reuiued so fayre and freshe as you see: but to the intent you may more playnly vnderstand how it is come to passe, I will open the same in few words.” And beginning at the day when he fell in loue with hir, he particularly told them, what had chaunced till that time, to the great maruell and admiration of them that heard him, and then added these woordes: “By meanes whereof, if your minde be not chaunged within this litle time, and specially master Nicholas, of good right she is my wife, and none by iust title can clayme hir.” Whereunto none at al made answere, looking that he shoulde haue proceeded further. In the meane while Nicholas and the rest that were there, fell into earnest weepinge. But maister Gentil, rising from the borde and taking in his armes the little childe, and the gentlewoman by the hand, went towardes Nicholas, and sayd vnto him: “Rise vp sir gossip, I do not restore vnto thee thy Wife, whom thy frends and householde did cast into the Streat, but I will geue thee this Gentlewoman my Gossip, with the litle childe, that is, as I am assured begotten of thee, for whom at the christening I made answere and promise, and called him Gentil, and do pray thee that she be no lesse esteemed of thee now (for being in my house almost three moneths) than she was before. For I swere by the almighty God, who made me in loue with hir, (peraduenture that my loue might be the cause of hir preseruation) that she neuer liued more honestly with hir father, mother, or with thee, than she hath done in company of my mother.” When he had sayd so, he returned towards the Gentlewoman, and sayd vnto hir: “Maistresse, from this time forth, I discharge you of the promise which you haue made me, and leaue you to your husband franke and free.” And when hehad bestowed the gentlewoman, and the chylde in the fathers armes, he returned to his place agayne. Nicholas ioyfully receyued his Wyfe and childe, for the whych so mutch the more he reioysed, as hee was furthest of from hope of hir recouery, rendering inumerable thankes to the Knight and the rest, and moued with compassion hee wept for company, greatly praysing maister Gentil for that act, who was commended of ech man that heard the reporte thereof. The Gentlewoman was receiued into hir house wyth maruellous ioye: And longe tyme after she was gazed vpon by the Citizens of Bologna, as a thing to their great wonder reuiued agayne. Afterwards Maister Gentil continued styll a friend vnto Nicholas, and vnto hys Wyfe and Chyldren.

Saladine in the habite of a Marchaunt, was honourably receyued into the house of mayster Thorello, who went ouer the Sea, in company of the Christians, and assigned a terme of his wyfe when she should mary agayne. He was taken, and caried to the Sovldan to be his Faulconer, who knowing him, and suffering himself to be knowen, did him great honour. Mayster Thorello fell sicke, and by Magique Art, was caried in a night to Pavie, where he found his wyfe about to mary agayne, who knowinge him, returned home with him to his owne house.

Verycomely it is (sayeth Cicero in the second booke of hys Offices,) that Noblemens houses should styll be open to noble Guestes and Straungers. A saying by the honourable and other Estates to be fixed in sure remembraunce, and accordingly practised: For hospitality and houshold intertaynment, heaping vp double gayne and commodity. The Guest it linketh and knitteth in fast band of perfect friendship, common familiarity, disporte of mynde and pleasant recreation, the poore and needy it feedeth, it cherisheth, it prouoketh in them deuout prayers, godly blessings, and seruice in tyme of neede. Hospitality is a thing so diuine, as in law of Nature and Chryst, it was well and brotherly obserued. Lot disdayned not to receyue the Aungels, which were straungers vnto him, and by reason of hys common vse thereof, and theyr frendly intertaynment, he and his houshold was delyuered from the daunger of the City, escaped temporal fire, and obteined heauenly rewarde. Abraham was a friendly host to straungers, and therefore in his old dayes, and in the barrein age of his wyfe Sara, he begat Isaac. Ietro albeit he was an Ethnicke and vnbeleuyng man, yet lyberally intertained Moyses, and maried him to Sephora, one of his Daughters. The poore widow of Sarepta interteined Helias, and Symon the Currior disdayned not Peter, nor Lydia the purple silke woman, Paule and his fellowes. Forget not Hospitality, (saith the said Apostle Paule,) for wyth the same diuers haue pleased Aungels by receiuing them into theyr houses. If Paulethe true preacher of eternall Healthe, hath so commended kepyng of good Houses which by the former terme wee call Hospitality, then it is a thing to bee vsed amonges those that bee able to mainteine the same: who ought with liberall hand frankely to reach bread and victuals to their acquaintance, but specially to straungers, whych wandering in forein places, be vtterly vnable to helpe themselues, and peraduenture in sutch neede, as without sutch curtesie, do perishe. For the further amplification of whych vertue, what shall I neede to remember straunge and prophane Histories? as of Symon of Athens, who was so famous in the same, as the tyrant Crytias, when he wished for the ryches of Scopades and the victories of Agesilaus, forgat not also to craue the liberality of Cimon. Pacuuius also, the Prynce of Campania, so friendly entertained Annibal, as when his sonne to do the Romanes a good turne, would haue killed him as he sat at supper, was staied by his fathers request (whom he made priuy of his intent before they sate downe.) Pacuuius had he not more regarded the office of hospitality, than the safety of his countrey, might ful wel by that murder, haue defended the same from the destruction whereunto afterwards it fel. Homere reporteth, that Menelaus fighting a combat with Paris of Troy made inuocation and prayer vnto the Gods, that he might be reuenged vpon him for the rape of his wife Helena, to the intent the posterity hearing of his punishmente, mighte feare to polute friendly housholde interteynment. Wherefore, sith hospitality hath bene thus put in vse in elder tyme, practysed in all ages, and the poluters of the same detested and accurssed, and hath notorious commodities incident vnto it, I deeme it so worthy to be frequented in noble men and all degrees, as theyr Palaces and great houses should swarme wyth guests, and their gates lustring with whole multitudes of the poore to be satisfied with relief. Sutch hath ben the sacred vse and reuerent care of auncient tyme. Sutch hath bene the zealous loue of those whose fieldes and barnes, closets, and chestes haue bene stored and stuffed with worldely wealth, that comparing that golden age, glistering with piety and vertue, to these our worsse than copper days, cancred with all corruption, we shal find the match so like, as darke and light, durt and Aungell golde. Ceasing then of further discourse hereof,this history folowing shall elucidate and displaye the mutuall beneuolence of two noble personages, the one a mighty Souldan, an enimy of God, but yet a fryende to those that fauored good entertainment and housekepyng: the other a Gentleman of Pauie, a rich and liberall marchaunt, and a friendly welcomer of straungers. The Souldan demaunding the way to Pauie, somewhat digressing from the same, is not onely honourably conueyed to Pauie, and feasted there, but also sumptuously cheryshed, banketted, and rewarded by the sayd Marchant before his commyng thyther. The marchant man desirous to be one of the holye voyage intended by christian Princes, passed ouer the seas, who put to his shifts there throughe the aduerse lucke receyued by the Christians, became the Souldans Fawconer, and afterwardes knowen vnto him by certaine markes and signes, is with greater honor intertained of the Souldan, and more richly guerdoned, sent home agayne by Magike Arte to anticipate the mariage of his wife, vnto whom he had prefixed a certaine date and terme to marry againe if before that tyme, he did not returne. All which Noble entertainment, and the circumstances thereof, in this manner do begin. In the time of the Emperour Fredericke the firste, the Chrystians to recouer the Holy Lande, made a generall voyage and passage ouer the Sea. Saladine a most vertuous Prynce, then Souldan of Babylon, hauing intelligence thereof, a certayne time before, determined in his own person to see and espy the preparation which the Christian Princes made for that passage, the better to prouide for his owne, and hauing put order for his affayres in Ægypt, making as though he would go on Pilgrimage, tooke his iourney in the apparel of a Marchant, accompanied only with two of his chiefest and wisest counsellers, and three seruaunts. And when he had searched and trauelled many christian prouinces, and riding through Lumbardy to passe ouer the Mountaynes, it chaunced that betweene Millan and Pauy, somwhat late he met wyth a gentleman named mayster Thorello de Istria of Pauy, who with his houshoulde, his dogges and hawkes, for his pleasure went to soiorne in one of his Manours, that was delectably placed upon the ryuer of Tesino. And when maister Thorello sawe them come, thinckinge that they were certayn Gentlemen straungers, he desired to do them honour. WhereforeSaladine demaunding of one of mayster Thorello his men, how farre it was from thence to Pauie, and whether they might come thither time inough to go in, master Thorello would not suffer his man to speake, but he himself made aunswere, saying: “sirs, yee cannot get into Pauie in time, for that the Gates will be shut before your comming.” Than sayd Saladine: “tell us then wee pray you, bicause we be straungers, where wee may lodge this night.” Maister Thorello sayd: “That will I willingly do, I was about euen presently to send one of my men that be here, so far as Pauie, about certayne businesse, him wil I appoint to be your guide to a place where you shall haue very good lodging,” and callinge one of his wysest men vnto him, he gaue him charge of that he had to do, and sent him with them, after whom he followed: where incontynently in so good order as he could, caused to be made redy a sumptuous supper, and the tables to be couered in a pleasant garden. Afterwards hee went himselfe to entertayne them. The seruaunt talking with the Gentlemen of many thinges, conducted them at leysure somwhat out of the way to protract the time, to his maysters house: and so soon as maister Thorello espied them, he with liberall heart and bountifull mynde bad them welcome. Saladine which was a very wyse man, well perceyued that the Gentleman doubted that they woulde not haue come vnto hym if he had inuited them at their first meetinge, and for that cause, to the intent they should not refuse to lodge at his house, he had pollitiquely caused them to be conducted thither, and aunsweringe hys greeting, sayd: “Syr, if a man may quarrell with them that be curteous, wee may complayne of you, who leauinge a part our way which you haue caused somewhat to be lengthened, without deseruinge your good will, otherwise than by one onely salutation, you haue constrayned vs to take and receyue this your so great curtesie.” The wise and well spoken Knight, sayd: “Syr, thys curtesie which you receyue of me, in respect of that which belongeth vnto you, as by your countenaunce I may wel coniecture, is very small, but truely out of Pauie ye could haue got no lodging that had ben good: and therefore be not displeased I pray you to be caried out of the way, to haue a little better intertaynment,” and saying so, his men came forth to receyue those straungers, andwhen they were lighted, their horsses were taken and conueyed into the stables, and mayster Thorello caryed the three Gentlemen to their chambers, which he had prepared for them, where their Bootes were pulled of, and excellent wyne brought forth, somewhat to refresh them before supper: then he held them with pleasaunt talke vntyll the houre of supper was com. Saladine and they which were with him, could all speake Latine, and therefore well vnderstanded, and they lykewise vnderstoode eche man, by meanes whereof euery of them, thought that the Gentleman was the most curteous and best conditioned Personage, indued with the most eloquent talke that euer they sawe. On the other side it seemed to mayster Thorello, that they were the noblest and Princelik personages, and far more worthy of estimation then he thought before. Wherefore, he was very angry wyth himselfe, that he had no greater company and better intertaynment for them that night, which he purposed to recompence the next day at dinner. Wherefore hee sent one of hys men to Pauie, being not farr from thence, to his wife, that was a very wise and noble gentlewoman, and afterwards he brought them into the garden where he curteously demaunded what they were. To whom Saladine answered: “we be marchaunts of Cypres trauailing to Paris, about our businesse.” Then said maister Thorello: “I would to God that this country brought forth such gentlemen as the land of Cypres maketh marchants,” and so passed the time from one talke to another, vntyll supper time came: Wherefore to honour them the better caused them to sit downe at the Table, euery of them according to his degree and place: And there they were exceadingly wel intreated and serued in good order, their supper being farre more bountifull than they looked for. And they sate not longe after that the table was taken away, but maister Thorello supposing them to be weary, caused them to be lodged in gorgeous and costly beds: and he likewyse within a while after went to bed. The seruaunt sent to Pauie, did the message to his mistresse, who not like a woman wyth a womanish heart, but like one of Princely Mind, incontinently caused many of her husband’s frends and seruaunts to be sent for. Afterwards she made ready a great feast, and inuited the noblest and chiefest Citizens of the City:apparelling hir house wyth clothe of gold and silke, tapistrie and other furnitures, putting in order all that which hir husband had commaunded. The next day in the morning the Gentleman rose, with whom maister Thorello mounted on horsebacke, and carying with him his Hawks, he brought them to the Ryuer, and shewed them diuers flightes. But Saladine demaunding where the best lodging was in Pauie, maister Thorello sayd: “I wyll shew you my selfe, for that I haue occasion to go thither.” They beleeuing him, were contented, and rode on their way, and being about nine of the clock, arriued at the City, thinking they should haue ben brought to the best Inne of the towne: but maister Thorello conueyed them to his owne house, where fiftye of the chiefest Citizens ready to receiue them sodaynly appeared before them. Which Saladine, and they that were wyth him perceyuinge, coniectured by and by what that dyd meane, and sayd: “Maister Thorello, this is not the request whych wee demaunded, your entertainment yesternight was to sumptuous and more then we desired, wherefore giue vs leaue we praye you to departe.” Whom maister Thorello answered: “My maisters, for that which ye receyued yesternight I wil giue thanks to Fortune, and not to you: for I ouertaking you by the way, forced you in a maner to make your repayre vnto my homely house: but for thys morninge voyage, I haue my selfe prepared, and likewyse the Gentlemen about you, with whom to refuse to dine, if you thincke it curtesie, doe as yee please.” Saladine and his companions vanquished wyth sutch persuation, lighted, and being receiued by the Gentlemen in louing and curteous order, were conueied to their chambers, which were richly furnished for them, and hauing put of their riding apparel, and somewhat refreshed themselues, they came into the Hall, where all things were in redinesse in triumphant sorte. Then Water was brought them to washe, and they placed at the Table, were serued wyth many delicate meats in magnificent and royal order, in sutch wise, as if the Emperour himselfe had bene there coulde not haue bene better entertayned. And albeit that Saladine and his companions were great Lordes, and accustomed to see marueylous thynges, yet they wondred very mutch at thys, considering the degree of the Knight, whom they knewe to bee but a Citizenand no Prynce or great Lord. When dinner was done, and that they had talked a little together, the weather waxing very hot, the Gentlemen of Pauie, (as it pleased mayster Thorello) went to take their rest, and he remayned wyth his three Guests: with whom he went into a chamber, where to the intent that nothing which he had and loued might be vnseene, caused his honest Wyfe to be called forth: who being very beautiful and wel fauored, clothed in rich and costly array, accompanied with her two yong sonnes, which were like to Aungels, came before them, and gratiously saluted them. When they saw her, they rose vp, and reuerently receiued hir, then they caused hir to sit downe in the mids of them, sporting and dalying with hir two fayre sonnes. But after she had pleasantly entred in talk, she asked them of whence they were, and whither they were going? To whom the Gentlemen made the same aunswere that they had done before to maister Thorello. Then the Gentlewoman sayd vnto them with smilinge cheere: “I perceyue then that mine aduice being a woman, is come well to passe. And therefore I pray you, that of your special grace you will do me this pleasure, as not to refuse or disdain the litle present that I shall bring before you, but that you take it, in consideration that women according to their little ability, giue little things, and that yee regard more the affection of the person whych offreth the gist, then the value of the giuen thing.” And causing to be brought before euery of them two fayre Roabes, the one lined with silke, and the other with Meneuayr, not in fashion of a Citizen, or of a Marchant, but Noblemanlike, andIII.Turkey gownes with sleeues of Taffata, lined with linnen cloth, she sayde vnto them: “Take I pray you these roabes, with the like whereof this day I apparelled my husband, and the other things may also serue your turnes, although they be little worth, considering that yee be farre from your Wyues, and the greatnesse of your iorney, which you haue taken, and haue yet to make, and also for that Marchantmen loue to be neat, and fine in things appertinent to their bodies.” The Gentlemen mutch maruelled, and playnly knew that Maister Thorello was disposed not to forget any one part of curtesie towards them, and doubted (by reason of the beauty and richesse of the roabes not marchantlike,) that theyshould not be knowne of mayster Thorello, notwithstandinge one of them aunswered her: “These be (Gentlewoman) very great gifts, and ought not lightly to be accepted, if your intreaty did not constraine vs, against which no denial ought to be made.” That done, when mayster Thorello returned into the chamber, the Gentlewoman tooke her leaue, and went hir way: and then shee furnished the seruants with diuers other things necessary for them, and Mayster Thorello obtayned by earnest request, that they should tary all that day. Wherefore after they had rested themselues a while, they did put on their roabes, and walked forth on horsebacke into the Citty: and when supper tyme was come, they were bountifully feasted in honorable company: and when bed time approched, went to rest. And so soone as it was day they rose, and founde in steade of their weary Hackneyes, three fat and fayre Palfreyes, and also the like number of fresh and mighty horsses for their seruaunts: Which Saladine seeing, turned towardes his companions, and sayd vnto them: “I sweare by God that ther was neuer a more liberall Gentleman, more courteous or better conditioned than this is. And if Christian kings for their part be sutch, I meane indued with sutch kingly qualities as this Gentleman is, the Souldan of Babylon shall haue inough to do to deale with one, and not to attend for all those which we see to be in preparation for inuasion of his Country.” But seeing that to refuse them or render them agayne, serued to no purpose, they thanked him very humbly, and got vppon their horse. Mayster Thorello wyth many of his frends, accompanied them out of the Citty a great peece of the way: And albeit that it mutch greeued Saladine to depart from mayster Thorello (so farre in he was already in loue with him) yet being constrayned to forgo his company, hee prayed him to returne, who although very loth to depart, sayd unto them: “Syrs, I will be gone, sith it is your pleasure I shall so do, and yet I say vnto you, that I know not what you be, ne yet demaund to know, but so farre as pleaseth you. But what soeuer yee be, you shall not make me beleue at this tyme, that yee be marchauntes, and so I bid you farewell.” Saladine hauing taken hys leaue of those that accompanied mayster Thorello, answered him: “Syr, it may come to passe, that we may let you seeour marchaundise, the better to confirme your beleefe.” And so departed. Saladine then hauing thus taken his leaue, assuredly determined if he liued, and that the Warres he looked for did not let him, to do no lesse honor to mayster Thorello, then he had done to him, and fell into great talke with his companions of him, of his Wyfe and of his things, acts and deedes, greatly praysing all his entertaynment. But after he had trauayled and vewed al the west parts, imbarkinge himselfe and his company, he returned to Alexandria, throughly informed of his enemies indeuors, prepared for his defence. Mayster Thorello returned to Pauie, and mused a long time what these three might be, but he coulde not so mutch as gesse, what they were. When the tyme of the appoynted passage for the Chrystians was come, and that great preparation generally was made, Mayster Thorello notwithstandinge the teares and prayers of his Wyfe, was fully bent to go thither, and hauinge set all thinges in order for that Voyage, and ready to get on horsebacke, he sayd vnto hir whom he perfectly loued: “Sweete Wyfe, I am goinge as thou seest, this Iourney, aswell for myne honour sake, as for health of my soule: I recommende vnto you our goodes and honor: And bycause I am not so certayne of my retourne, for a thousand accydentes that may chaunce, as I am sure to goe, I praye thee to doe mee thys pleasure, that what so euer chaunceth of mee, yf thou haue no certayne newes of my life, that yet thou tarry one yeare, one Moneth, and one day, the same terme to begin at the day of my departure.” The Gentlewoman whych bytterly wept, answered: “I know not dear husband how I shal be able to beare the sorrowe wherein you leaue mee, if you goe awaye: But yf my Lyfe bee more stronge and sharpe, than sorrowe it selfe: and whether you lyue or dye, or what so euer come of you, I wyll lyue and dye the Wyfe of Mayster Thorello, and the onely spouse of hys remembraunce.” Whereunto mayster Thorello sayde: “Sweete Wyfe, I am more than assured that touching your selfe, it wyll proue as you do promise: But you beyng a younge Woman, fayre, and well allyed, and your Vertue greate and well knowne throughoute the Countrye, I am sure that many greate Personages and gentlemen (if any suspytyon bee conceyued of my Death) wyll make requestes to your brethren and Kindred, from whose pursute(althoughe you be not disposed,) you can not defende your selfe, and it behoueth that of force, you please theyr wil, whych is the onely reason that moueth mee to demaunde that terme, and no longer tyme.” The Gentlewoman sayd: “I wil doe what I can for fulfilling of my promyse: And albeit in the ende that I shall bee constrayned to doe contrary to my lykyng, be assured that I wyll obey the charge whych nowe you haue gyuen me: And I moste humbly thanke Almyghty God, that hee neuer brought vs into these termes before this tyme.” Theyr talke ended, the Gentlewoman weepyng embraced mayster Thorello, and drawyng a Ryng from hir Fynger, she gaue it hym, sayinge: “If it chaunce that I dye before I see you, remember me when you shal beholde the same.” He receiuinge the ring, got vp vppon his horse, and takinge his leaue, went on hys voyage, and arriued at Genoua shipped himself in a Galley, and toke his way, whereunto wind and weather so fauored, as wythin fewe dayes he landed at Acres, and ioyned wyth the army of the Chrystyans: wherein began a great mortalytye and Plague, duryng which infection (what so euer was the cause) eyther by the industrie or Fortune of Saladine the rest of the Christians that escaped were almost taken and surprised by him, without any fighte or blowe stricken. All which were imprysoned in many cities, and deuided into diuers places, amongs whych prysoners maister Thorello was one, who was caryed captyue to Alexandria, where beyng not knowne, and fearyng to be knowne, forced of necessitie, gaue him selfe to the keepyng of Hawkes, a qualitie wherein he had very good skyll, whereby in the ende hee grew to the acquaintance of the Souldan, who for that occasion (not knowing him that time) toke hym out of pryson, and retayned him for his Fawconer. Maister Thorello which was called of the Souldan by none other name than Chrystian, whome hee neyther knewe, ne yet the Souldan him, had none other thing in his mynde and remembraunce but Pauia, and manye tymes assayed to escape and run away: But he neuer came to the poynt: Wherfore dyuers Ambassadoures from Genoua being come to Saladine, to raunsome certayne of theyr Prysoners, and being ready to returne, hee thought to wryte vnto his wyfe, to let hir know that he was aliue, and that hee would come home sosoone as he coulde, praying hir to tarry his retourne: Which was the effecte of hys Letter: verye earnestly desiring one of the ambassadours of his acquayntaunce to doe so mutch for hym as safely to delyuer those Letters to the Handes of the Abbot ofS. Pietro in ciel Doro, whych was hys Vncle. And Mayster Thorello standing vppon these termes, it chaunced vpon a day as Saladine was talking with him of his Hawkes, Thorello began to smyle and to make a Iesture wyth hys mouth, whych Saladine beyng at his house at Pauie did very well note, by which act Saladine began to remember him, and earnestly to viewe hym, and thought that it was he in deede. Wherefore leauing his former talke, he sayd: “Tell me Chrystian of what countrey art thou in the West parts?” “Sir” sayd Mayster Thorello, “I am a Lombarde, of a City called Pauie, a poore man and of meane estate.” So soone as Saladine heard that, as assured wherof he doubted, said to himself: “God hath giuen me a time to let thys man know how thankfully I accepted his curtesy that hee vsed towards me,”and without any more words, hauing caused all his apparell in a chamber to be set in order, he broughte him into the same and sayd: “Behold Christian, if amonges al these roabes, there be any one which thou hast seene before.”Maister Thorello began to looke vpon them, and saw those which his wyfe had giuen to Saladine: but he could not beleue that it was possible that they should be the same, notwithstanding hee answered: “Sir, I knowe them not, albeit my mind giueth me that these twayne do resemble the roabes which sometimes I ware, and caused them to be giuen to three marchaunt men that were lodged at my house.” Then Saladine not able to forbear any longer, tenderly imbraced him, saying: “You be maister Thorello de Istria, and I am one of the three Marchaunts to whom your wife gaue those roabes: and now the time is come to make you certenly beleue what my marchaundise is, as I tolde you when I departed from you that it myght come to passe.” Maister Thorello hearyng those wordes, began to be both ioyfull and ashamed, ioyfull for that he had entertained sutch a guest, and ashamed that his fare and lodging was so simple. To whom Saladine said:“maister Thorello, sith it hath pleased god to send you hither, thynke from henceforth that you be Lordof this place and not I.”andmaking great chere, and reioysing one wyth an other, he caused him to be cloathed in royall vestures, and brought him into the presence of al the Noble men of his country: and after he had rehersed many thinges of his valor and commendation, commaunded him to be honoured as his owne person, of all those which desired to haue his fauor: Which thing euery Man dyd from that time forth: but aboue the rest, the two Lords that were in company with Saladine at his house. The greatnesse of the sodain glory wherein maister Thorello sawe himselfe, did remoue oute of his mind, his affayres of Lombardie, and specially, bicause hee hoped that his letters should trustely be deliuered to the hands of his vncle. Now there was in the camp of the Christians the daye wherein they were taken by Saladine, a Gentleman of Prouince, which dyed and was buryed, called maister Thorello de Dignes, a man of great estimation: whereby (maister Thorello of Istria known through out the whole army for his nobility and prowesse) euery man that heard tell that maister Thorello was dead, beleued that it was mayster Thorello de Istria, and not he de Dignes, and by reason of his taking, the truth whether of them was deade, was vnknown: Wherfore many Italians returned with those newes, amongs whom som wer so presumptuous, as they toke vpon them to saye and affyrme that they saw him deade, and were at his burial: Whych knowen to his wyfe and his friends, was an occasion of very great and inestimable Sorrow, not onely to them: but to all other that knewe him. Very long it were to tell what great sorrow, heauinesse, and lamentation his wife did vtter, who certain moneths after shee had continually so tormented hir selfe, (and when hir grief began to decrease, being demaunded of many great personages of Lombardie) was counselled by hir brothers, and other of hir kin, to mary again. Which thing after she had many times refused, in very great anguish and dolor, finally being constrained thereunto, she yelded to the minds of hir parents: But yet vpon condicion, that the nuptials should not be celebrate vntyll sutch tyme as she had performed hir promise made to maister Thorello. Whilest the affaires of this Gentlewoman were in those termes at Pauie, and the time of hir appoyntment within eight dayes approched, itchaunced that maister Thorello vpon a day espyed a man in Alexandria, (which hee had seene before in the company of the Ambassadors of Genoua,) going into the galley that was bound with them to Genoua, wherfore causing him to be called, he demaunded what voyage they had made, and asked him when they arriued at Genoua? To whom he sayd: “Sir the Galley made a very ill voyage as I hard say in Creta, where I remayned behynd them, for being neare the coast of Sicilia there rose a maruellous tempest, which droue the galley vpon the shoare of Barbarie, and not one of them within bord escaped, amongs whom two of my brethren were likewise drowned.” Mayster Thorello giuing credite to the words of this fellow, which were very true, and remembring himselfe that the terme whych he had couenaunted with his Wyfe was almost expired, and thinkinge that they could hardly come by the knowledge of any newes of hym or of his state, beleued verily that his Wyfe was maried agayne, for sorrow whereof he fell into sutch melancholy, as he had no lust to eate or drinke, and laying him downe vpon his bed, determined to die: whych so soone as Saladine, (who greatly loued hym) did vnderstand, he came to visite him, and after that he had (through instant request) knowen the occasion of his heauinesse and disease, hee blamed him very mutch for that he did no sooner disclose vnto him his conceipt: And afterwards prayed him to be of good cheere, assuring him if he would, so to prouide as he shoulde be at Pauie, iust at the terme which he had assigned to his Wyfe: and declared vnto him the order how. Mayster Thorello geuinge credit to the words of Saladine, and hauinge many times hard say, that it was possible, and that the like had bene many times done, began to comfort himselfe, and to vse the company of Saladine, who determined fully vpon his voyage and returne to Pauie. Then Saladine commaunded one of his Nycramancers, (whose science already he had well experienced) that hee shoulde deuise the meanes how mayster Thorello might be borne to Pauie in one night, vpon a bed: Whereunto the Nycromancer aunswered that it should be done, but that it behoued for the better doing thereof, that he should be cast into a sleepe: And when Saladine had geuen order thereunto, he returned to mayster Thorello, and finding him fullypurposed to be at Pauy if it were possible at the terme which he had assigned, or if not, to die: sayd thus vnto hym: “Mayster Thorello, if you do heartely loue your Wyfe and doubt least she be maried to an other, God forbid that I should stay you by any manner of meanes, bicause of all the Women that euer I saw, she is for maners, comely behauiour, and decent order of apparell, (not remembring her beauty, which is but a fading floure) mee thyncke most worthy to bee praysed and loued. A gladsome thynge it woulde haue beene to mee (sith Fortune sent you hither) that the tyme which you and I haue to liue in this worlde, we myght haue spent together, and liued Lordes of the Kingdome which I possesse, and if God be minded not to do me that grace, at least wyse sith you be determined either to dye or to returne to Pauie, at the terme which you haue appointed, my great desire is, that I myght haue knowen the same in time, to the intente you myghte haue bene conducted thither wyth sutch honour and trayn as your Vertues do deserue: Which sith God wyl not that it bee brought to passe, and that you wyll neades be there presently, I wyll send you as I can in manner before expressed.” Whereunto maister Thorello said: “Sir, the effect (bisides your wordes) hath don me suffycient knowledge of your good wyll, which I neuer deserued, and that whych you told me, I cannot beleeue, so long as Lyfe is in me, and therefore am most certayne to dye: But sith I am so determyned, I beseeche you to do that which you haue promised out of hand, bicause to morrow is the last day of the appoyntment assigned to my wyfe.” Saladine said, that for a truth the same should be don: And the next day the Souldan purposing to send hym the nyght following, he caused to be made ready in a great hall a very fayre and rych bed, all quilted according to their manner (wyth vyluet and clothe of gold), and caused to be layed ouer the same, a Couerlet wroughte ouer with borders of very great pearles, and rich precious stones: which euer afterwardes was deemed to be an infinite treasure, and two pillowes sutelike vnto that bed: that don, he commaunded that they should inuest maister Thorello, (who now was lustie) with a Sarazine roabe, the richest and fairest thing that euer anye Man saw, and vpon his head one of his longest bands, wreathen according to theyrmanner, and being already late in the Euenyng, hee and diuers of his Barons went into the Chamber wher Mayster Thorello was, and being set down besides him, in weeping wise hee began to say: “Maister Thorello, the time of our separation doth now approche, and bicause that I am not able to accompany you, ne cause you to be waited vpon, for the qualitie of the way which you haue to passe, I must take my leaue here in this chamber, for which purpose I am come hither: Wherefore before I byd you farewel, I pray you for the loue and friendship that is betwene vs, that you do remember me if it be possible before our dayes do end, after you haue giuen order to your affayres in Lombardie, to come agayne to see me before I dye, to the end that I beyng reioyced with your second visitation, may be satisfied of the pleasure which I lose this day for your vntimely hast: and trusting that it shall come to passe, I pray you let it not be tedious vnto you to visite me wyth your letters, and to require me in thynges wherein it may lyke you to commaund, which assuredly I shall accomplish more frankely for you, than for any other liuing man.” Maister Thorello was not able to retaine teares: wherefore to staye the same, he answered him in few woordes, that it was impossible that euer hee shoulde forget his benefites, and his worthy friendship extended vpon him, and that without default he would accomplish what he had commaunded, if God did lend him life and leysure. Then Saladine louingly imbracing and kissing him, pouring forth many teares, bad him farewell, and so went oute of the chamber: And all the other Noble men afterwards tooke theyr leaue likewise of him, and departed with Saladine into the hal wher he had prepared the bed, but being already late, and the Necromancer attending, and hasting his dispatch, a Phisitian broughte him a drinke, and made him beleue that it would fortifie and strengthen him in his iorney, causing him to drinke the same: which being done within a while after he fell a sleepe, and so sleeping was borne by the commaundment of Saladine, and layd vpon the fayre bed, whereupon he placed a rich and goodly crowne of passinge pryce and valor, vpon the which he had ingrauen so plaine an inscription, as afterwards it was knowne that the same was sent by Saladine to the wife of maister Thorello. After that he put aring vpon his finger whych was beset wyth a Diamonde, so shining, as it seemed like a flamynge Torche, the Value whereof was hard to bee esteemed. Then he caused to bee girte aboute hym, a Sworde, the furniture and garnishing whereof could not easily be valued: and besides all thys, hee honge vppon hys Necke a Tablet or Brooche so beset wyth Stones, and Pearles, as the lyke was neuer seene. And afterwards he placed on either of hys sides, two exceding great Golden basens, full of double Ducates, and many cordes of Pearles and rings, girdels, and other things to tedious to reherse, wherewith he bedecked the place about him. Which done, he kissed him againe, and wylled the Necromancer to make hast. Wherfore incontinently maister Thorello, and the bed, in the presence of Saladine was caried out of sight and Saladine taried stil, deuising and talkyng of hym amongs his Barons. Maister Thorello being now laid in S. Peter Churche at Pauie, according to his request, with all his Iewels and habilliments aforesayd about him, and yet fast a slepe, the Sexten to ring to Mattens, entred the Church with light in his hand: and chauncing sodenly to espy the rych Bed, dyd not onely maruel thereat, but also ran away in great feare. And when the Abbot and the Monkes saw that hee made sutch hast away, they were abashed, and asked the cause why he ranne so fast? The Sexten tolde them the matter: “Why how now?” sayde the Abbot, “Thou art not sutch a Babe, ne yet so newlye come vnto the Church, as thou oughtest so lightly to be afraide. But let vs goe and see what bug hath so terribly frayed thee.” And then they lighted many Torches: And when the Abbot and his Monkes were entred the Church, they saw that wonderfull rich bed, and the Gentleman sleeping vpon the same. And as they were in this doubte and feere, beholding the goodly Iewels, and durst not goe neare the bed, it chaunced that maister Thorello awaked, fetchyng a gret sighe. The Monkes so soone as they saw that, and the Abbot with them, ran all away crying out, “God helpe vs, our Lord haue mercy vpon vs.” Maister Thorello opened his eyes, and playnly knew by loking round about him, that he was in the place where he demaunded to be of Saladine whereof he was very glad, and rising vp, and viewing particularily, what he had about him, albeit he knew before the magnificence of Saladine, now hethoughte it greater, and better vnderstood the same than before. But seeynge the Monkes run away, and knowyng the cause wherefore, he began to call the Abbot by hys name, and intreated hym not to bee affrayde: For he was Mayster Thorello his Nephewe. The Abbot hearyng that was dryuen into a greater feare, bicause he was accompted to bee dead diuers moneths before: but afterwards by diuers arguments, assured that hee was maister Thorello, and so often called by hys name (making a signe of the Crosse) he went vnto him. To whom maister Thorello sayd: “Whereof be you a frayd good father? I am aliue I thanke God, and from beyond the Sea returned hyther.” The Abbot (although he had a great beard, and apparelled after the guise of Arabie) crossed hymselfe agayne, and was wel assured that it was he. Then he tooke hym by the hande, and sayde vnto hym as followeth: “My Sonne thou art welcome home, and maruell not, that wee were afrayd: For there is none in all thys Citty, but doth certaynly beleeue that thou art dead. In so mutch as madame Adalietta thy Wyfe, vanquished with the prayers and threates of hir frinds and kin, agaynst hir will is betrouthed agayne, and this day the espousals shall be done. For the mariage, and all the preparation necessary for the feast, is ready.” Mayster Thorello risinge out of the rich Bed, and reioysing wyth the Abbot and all his Monks, praied euery of them not to speake one word of his comminge home, vntill he had done what he was disposed. Afterwards placing al his rich Iewels in surety and sauegard, hee discoursed vnto his vncle what had chaunced vnto hym till that time. The Abbot ioyfull for his fortune, gaue thankes to God. Then mayster Thorello demaunded of his vncle, what he was that was betrouthed to hys Wyfe. The Abbot tolde hym: To whom maister Thorello sayd: “Before my returne be knowen, I am desirous to see what Countenaunce my Wyfe wyl make at the mariage. And therefore, albeit that the religious doe not vse to repayre to sutch Feastes, yet I pray you for my sake take payne to go thither.” The Abbot aunswered that he would willingly doe so. And so soone as it was Daye, hee sente woorde to the Brydegrome, that he, and a Frende of hys, woulde bee at the mariage: whereunto the Gentleman aunswered,that he was very glade thereof. When dinner tyme was come, mayster Thorello in the habite and apparel wherein he was, went with the Lord Abbot to the weddinge dinner, where euery of them that saw him, did maruellously beholde hym, but no man knew him, bicause the Abbot aunswered them that inquired, that he was a Sarazene, sent Ambassador from the Souldan to the French Kinge. Mayster Thorello was then placed at a table which was right ouer agaynst his Wyfe, whom he beheld with great pleasure and delight, and perceyued very wel by hir face that she was not well content with that mariage. She likewise beheld him sometimes, not for any knowledge she had of hym, for his great beard and straunge attire, the firme credite and generall opinion also that hee was deade, chiefly hindred it. But when mayster Thorello thought tyme to proue whether she had any remembraunce of him, he secretly conuayed into hys hande, the ring which she gaue him at hys departure, and called a little Boy that wayted vpon hir, and sayd vnto him: “Go tell the Bryde in my behalfe, that the custome of my countrey is, that when any Straunger (as I am here) is bydden by any new maried woman (as she is now,) for a token of his welcome, she sendeth vnto him the cup wherein she drinketh full of Wyne, whereof after the straunger hath dronke what pleaseth him, he couereth the cup agayne, and sendeth the same to the Bryde, who drinketh the rest that remayneth.” The Page did his message vnto the Bryde, who like a wise Gentlewoman wel brought vp, thinking he had ben some great personage, to declare that he was welcome, commaunded a great cup all gilt, standing before hir, to be washed cleane, and to be filled ful of Wyne, and caried to the Gentleman, which accordingly was don. Mayster Thorello hauing put into hys mouth the aforesayd ring, secretly let fall the same into the Cup as he was drinking, not perceyued of any man, to the intent that she drinking the latter draught, might espy the ringe. When he had dronk, he returned the cup vnto the Bryde, who thankfully receyued the same. And for that the manner of his countrey might be accomplished, when the cup was deliuered vnto hir, she vncouered the same, and pleadging the rest of the Wyne, beheld the ring, and without speaking any word, welviewed the same, and knowing that it was the very Ring which she had geuen to maister Thorello, when he departed, tooke it out. And stedfastly did marke and looke vpon him, whom she supposed to be a straunger, and already knowinge him, cryed out as though she had bene straught of hir wittes, throwing downe the Table before hir: “This is my Lord and husband, this is of trouth Mayster Thorello.” And runnynge to the table without respect to hys apparell of Cloth of Gold, or to any thinge that was vpon the table, pressinge so neere him as she could, imbraced him very heard, not able to remoue hir handes from about his Necke for any thing that could bee sayd or done by the company that was there, vntill mayster Thorello required hir to forbeare for that present, for so mutch as she shoulde haue leysure inough to vse hir further imbracements. Then shee left him, and contented hir selfe for the tyme: but the brydale and mariage was wholly troubled and appalled for that sodayne chaunce, and the most part of the Guests excedingly reioyced for the return of that Noble knight. Then the company beinge intreated to sit and not to remoue, Maister Thorello rehearsed in open audience what had chaunced vnto him from the day of his departure vntill that tyme, concludinge with a petition to the Bridegrome, that had newly espoused his Wyfe, that he woulde not be displeased if he tooke hir agayne. The new maried Gentleman, albeit it greeued hym very sore, and thought himselfe to be mocked, aunswered liberally and like a Frende, that it was in hys power to do wyth hys owne what hee thought best. The Gentlewoman drawinge of the Rings and Garland which shee had receyued of hir newe Husbande, did put vppon hir finger the Ring which shee founde within the Cup, and likewyse the Crowne that was sent vnto hir by Saladine: And the whole troupe and assembly leauing the house where they were, went home with mayster Thorello and his wyfe, and there the kin and frends, and all the Citizens which haunted the same, and regarded it for a myracle, were with long feastinge and great cheare in great ioy and triumph. Mayster Thorello departing some of his precious Iewels to him that had bene at the cost of the marriage, likewise to the Lord Abbot and diuers others, and hauing done Saladine to vnderstand hys happy repayrehome to his Countrey, recommending himselfe for euer to his commaundement, liued with his Wyfe afterwards many prosperous yeares, vsing the vertue of curtesie more than euer hee did before. Sutch was the ende of the troubles of maister Thorello, and hys wel beloued Wyfe, and the recompence of their franke and honest curtesies.

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