Chapter VIII: Part 8

THE TWENTY-SEVENTH NOUELL.

_The Lorde of Virle, by the commaundement of a fayre younge
Wydow called Zilia, for hys promise made, the better to
attaine hir loue, was contented to remayne dumbe the space of
three yeares, and by what meanes he was reuenged, and obtayned
hys suite._

They that haue spent their youth in humayne follies, and haue followed the Vanities of loue, not addicted to the contemplation of high secrets, nor haue made entry here on Earth, to inlarge and amplyfy the boundes of their honor and Estimation. Those Worldlings (I say) and embracers of transitory pleasures, shall witnesse with me, and confirme, this olde and auncient Theme and proposition to be true which is: that the Beauty, and comely grace of a Woman, is the very true and naturall adamant (for the attractiue power, and agreeable quality there inclosed,) to draw vnto it the hearts, and affections of men: which hath made man beleue, that the same onely essence, was sent downe from aboue to serue both for ioy and torment together. For the amplyfyinge of which proposition, I will not bring forth, the immoderate loue of Paris by forsaking his owne Natiue country of Troy, to visite fayre Helena in Greece, nor yet tell how Hercules gaue ouer his mace to handle the Distaffe, vpon the commaundement of Omphale, nor yet how Sampson and Salomon were sotted in the slaueries of Dalida and other concubines. But my discourse here folowing shall ring out a loud Peale, of a meane Gentlewoman, of Piedmount, that shewed no fauor or Curtesy at all to her suppliant, a Gentleman not inferior to Paris for his actiuity and prowesse: which for her seruice and atchyeues of her loue, refused not to bee dombe the space of many yeares, and to giue ouer the best porcion of his sences wherewith the Almighty, made Man differente from brute and sauage Beastes. If this thing declare not sufficiently the force and power of that attractiue and drawing power in woman, no other example is worthy to be preferred. Those aforesayd and many other haue voluntarily yoaked themselues in the chains of loue's obedience, rendreth the masse of their mirye corps to the slauery thereof, but that any haue franckely tyed vp their Tongue, the chiefest Instrument of the bodies furniture: in honorable assembly or where dexterity of seruice shoulde make him glorious, the like of that subiection was neuer seene or founde. And yet our fathers dayes did see this miracle wrought by a Woman, vpon a Gentleman very wise, and well trained vp in all good exercyse. This example, and what this Malapert Dame did gaine, by the penance of this louing knight, shal in this discourse be manifestly pronounced. The City of Thurin (as is well knowne to them that haue trauelled Piedmont) is the ornament and bulwark of al the Countrey, so well for the natural site of the place, as for the artificial and industrious worke of man's hande, which hath instaured and furnished with great magnificence, that which nature had indifferently enryched, for the rudenesse and litle knowledg of the time past. Now besides this stately and strong city, there standeth a litle towne named Montcall, a place no lesse strong, and of good defence, than wel planted in a faire and rich soyle. In this Towne there dwelt a Gentlewoman a widow called Zilia, beautiful amongs the most excellent fayre Gentlewomen of the countrey, which country (besides other happy and heauenly influences) seemeth to be specially fauored, for hauing the most fairest and curteous Gentlewomen, aboue any other within the compasse of Europa. Notwithstanding this faire Silia, degenerating from the nature of hir climate was so haggard and cruel, as it might haue ben thought, she had ben rather nourished and brought vp amid the most desert mountaines of Sauoy, than in the pleasant and rich Champian Countreye, watred and moystened with Eridanus, the father of Riuers, at this Day called the Pau, the largenesse whereof doth make men to maruel, and the fertility allureth ech man to be desirous to inhabit vpon the same. This fayre rebellious Widow, albeit, that she was not aboue XXIV. or XXV. yeres of age, yet protested neuer more to be subiect to man, by mariage, or otherwise, thinking her selfe wel able to liue in single life: a Minde truly very holy and commendable, if the pricks of the flesh do obey the first motions and adhortations of the spirit, but where youth, pleasure, and multitude of suters do addresse their endeuour against that chastity (which is lightly enterprysed) the Apostels counsel oughte to be followed, who willeth yong widows to marry in Christ, to auoid the temptations of the flesh, and to flye offensiue slaunder and dishonour before men. This mistresse Zilia (hir husband being dead) only bent hir selfe to enrich hir house, and to amplify the possession of a little infant which she had by hir late departed Husband. After whose death she became so couetous, as hauing remoued, and almost cut of quite the wonted port she vsed in hir husband's dayes, imployed hir maids in houshold affaires, thinking nothing to be wel don that passed not through hir owne Handes. A thinge truely more prayse worthy, than to see a sorte of effeminate, fine and daynty fyngred Dames, that thinke their honor diminished yf they holde but their Nose ouer theyr Housholde Matters, where theyr Hande and Dylygence were more requisite, for so mutch as the mystresse of a House is not placed the Cheyfe to heare onely the reasons of them that Labor, but thereunto to put hir hands, for hir presente eye seemeth to giue a certyn perfection to the worke that the Seruauntes doe by hir commaundement. Which caused the Hystoryans in tymes past, to describe vnto the Posterity a Gentlewoman called Lucretia, not babbling amongs young girles, or running to feastes and Maigames, or Masking in the night, withoute any regard of the honor and dygnitye of hir race and house, but in hir Chaumber Sowing, Spinning and Carding, amids the Troup of hir Mayden Seruaunts: wherein our mistresse Zilia passed the moste part of hir time, spending no minute of the day, without some honest exercise, for that she the rather did for that she liked not to be seene at Feasts, or Bankets, or to be gadding vp and downe the streetes, wandring to Gardeyns or places of pleasure, although to sutch places youth sometimes may haue their honest repayre to refresh their wearied bodies with vertuous recreation, and thereby reioyce the heauinesse of their mynde. But this Gentlewoman was so seuere in following the rigorous, and constrayned maners of our auncients, as impossible it was, to see hir abroade: except it were when she went to the Church to heare deuine seruice. This Gentlewoman seemed to haue studied the diuinity of the Ægyptians which paynt Venus holding a key before hir mouth, and setting hir Fote vpon a Tortus, signifying vnto us thereby the duety of a chaste Woman, whose tongue ought to bee locked, that shee speak not but in tyme and place, and her feete not straying or wandering, but to keepe hir selfe within the limits of hir owne house, except it be to serue God, and sometimes to render bounden duety to them which brought them into light. Moreouer Zilia was so religious (I will not say superstitious) and rigorous to obserue customes, as she made it very squeimish and straung to kisse a Gentleman that met hir, a ciuility which of long time hath bene obserued, and yet remayneth in the greatest parte of the Worlde, that Gentlewomen do welcome straungers and Guests into their houses with an honest and chaste kisse. Notwithstandinge the institution and profession of this Wyddow had wiped away this poyncte of hir youth: whether it were for that she esteemed hirselfe so fayre as all men were vnworthy to touch the vtter partes of so rare and pretious a vessell, or that hir great, and inimitable chastity made hir so straunge, to refuse that which hir duety and honour woulde haue permitted hir to graunt. There chaunced about this time that a Gentleman of the Countrey, called Sir Philiberto of Virle, esteemed to be one of the most valiaunt gentlemen in those parts, repayred vpon an holy day to Montcall, (whose house was not very farre of the Towne) and being at diuine seruice, in place of occupying his Sence and Mynde in heauenly things, and attending the holy words of a Preacher, which that day declared the worde of God vnto the people, hee gaue himselfe to contemplate the excellent beauty of Zilia, who had put of for a while hir mourninge vayle, that she might the better beholde the good father that preached, and receyue a little ayre, because the day was extreme hot. The Gentleman at the first blushe, when hee sawe that sweete temptation before his eyes, thought himselfe rapt aboue the thirde heauen, and not able to withdraw his looke, he fed himselfe with the Venome which by little, and little, so seased vpon the soundest parts of hys mynde, as afterwards being rooted in heart, he was in daunger still to remayne there for a Guage, wythout any hope of ease or comforte, as more amply this followinge discourse, shall giue you to vnderstande. Thus all the morning hee behelde the Gentlewoman, who made no more accoumpt of theym, that wyth great admiration did behold hir, than they themselues did of their life, by committing the same to the handes of a Woman so cruell. This Gentleman being come home to his lodging enquired what fayre Wyddow that was, of what calling, and behauiour, but hee heard tell of more truely than he would of good will haue known or desired to haue ben in hir, whom he did presently chose to be the only mistresse of his most secret thoughts. Now vnderstandynge well the stubburne Nature, and vnciuile Manner of that Wyddowe, hee coulde not tell what parte to take, nor to what Sainct to vow his Deuotion, to make suite vnto hir hee thought it tyme lost, to bee hir Seruaunt, it was not in his power, hauing already inguaged his Lyberty into the handes of that beauty, whych once holding captiue the hearte of men, will not infraunchise them so soone as Thought and Wyll desire. Wherefore baytinge hymself with hope, and tickled wyth loue, he determined whatsoeuer chaunced, to loue hir, and to assay if by long seruice he could lenifie that harde hearte, and make tender that vnpliaunt wyll, to haue pitty vppon the payne which shee saw him to endure, and to recompence hys laboursome Trauayles, which hee thought were vertuously imployed for gayning of hir good grace. And vpon this settled deliberation, he retired agayne to Virle (so was his house named) where disposinge hys thinges in order, he retorned agayne to Montcall to make his long resiaunce there, to put in readines his furniture, and to welde his artillary with sutch industry, as in the ende he might make a reasonable breach to force and take the place: for surprising whereof, hee hazarded great daungers, the rather that himselfe might first be taken. And where his assaults and pollicies could not preuayle, hee minded to content his Fancy wyth the pleasure and pastyme that hee was to receyue in the contemplation of a thing so fayre, and of an image so excellent. The memory of whom rather increased his paine than yelded comfort, did rather minister corrosiue poyson, than giue remedy of ease, a cause of more cruell and sodayne death, than of prolonged lyfe. Philiberto then being become a citizen of Montcal, vsed to frequent the Church more than hee was wont to doe, or his deuotion serued hym, and that bycause he was not able elsewhere to enioy the presence of hys Saynct, but in places and Temples of Deuotion: which no doubt was a very holy and worthy Disposition, but yet not meete or requisite to obserue sutch holy places for those intentes, which ought not to bee prophaned in things so fonde and foolishe, and Actes so contrary to the Institution, and mynde of those, whych in tymes past were the firste Founders and Erectoures of Temples. Seignior Philiberto then mooued wyth that Religious Superstition, made no Conscience at al to speake vnto hir wythin the Church. And true it is, when she went out of the same, he (mooued wyth a certayne familiar curtesie, naturall to eche Gentleman of good bringing vp) many tymes conducted hir home to hir house, not able for all that (what so euer hee sayd) to win the thing that was able to ingender any little solace, which greeued him very much: for the cruell woman fained as though she vnderstoode nothing of that he sayde, and turnyng the Wayne agaynst the Oxen, by contrary talke shee began to tell hym a tale of a Tubbe, of matters of hir Householde, whereunto hee gaue so good heede, as shee did to the hearing of his complaynts. Thus these two, of diuers Affections, and mooued wyth contrary thoughtes, spake one to another, without apt aunswere to eyther's talke. Whereby the Gentleman conceyued an assured argument of hys Ruine, who voyde of all hope, and meanes, practised with certayne Dames of the Citty, that had familiar accesse vnto hyr house, and vsed frequent conuersation wyth hys rebellious Lady Zilia. To one of them, then hee determined to communicate hys secrets, and to doe hir to vnderstand in deede the only cause that made him to soiorne at Montcall, and the griefe which he suffered, for that he was not able to discouer his torment vnto hir, that had giuen him the wounde. Thys Gentleman therefore, repayred to one of his neyghbours, a Woman of good corage, which at other tymes had experimented what meates they feede on that sit at Venus Table, and what bitternesse is intermingled amid those drinckes that Cupido quaffeth vnto hys Guestes. Vnto whom (hauing before coniured hir to keepe close that whych hee woulde declare) he discouered the secrets of hys mynde, expressinge hys loue wythout naming hys Lady before he heard the aunswere of hys Neyghbour, who vnderstanding almost to what purpose the affections of the Pacient were directed, sayd vnto hym: "Sir, needful it is not to vse longe orations, the loue that I beare you for the honest qualities whych hytherto I haue knowne to be in you, shall make me to keepe silent, that whereof as yet I do not know the matter, and the assuraunce you haue, not to bee abused by mee, constrayneth me to warrant you, that I wyll not spare to do you all the pleasure and honest seruice I can." "Ah mistresse," (aunswered sir Philiberto) "so long as I lyue, I will not fayle to acknowledge the Liberality of your endeuour by offeringe your selfe paciently to heare, and secretly, to keepe the Words I speake accordingly as they deserue: and that (whych is more than I require) you doe assure me that I shall finde sutch one of you as wil not spare to gieue your ayde. Alas, I resemble the good and wyse Captayne, who to take a forte doeth not only ayde himselfe with the forwardnesse, and valiaunce of his Souldiers, but to spare them, and to auoyde slaughter for makinge of way, planteth his cannon, and battereth the Walle of the fort, which hee would assaile, to the intent that both the Souldier, and the ordinaunce may perfourme and suffise the perfection of the plat, which hee hath framed and deuised within his pollitike heade. I haue already encouraged my souldiers, and haue lost the better part truely in the skirmish which hath deliuered vnto mee my sweete cruell Ennimy. Now I am driuen to make ready the fire, which resteth in the kindled match of your conceiptes, to batter the fort hitherto inexpugnable, for any assault that I can make." "I vnderstand not" (sayd she smilyng) "these labyrynths of your complaynts, except you speake more playn. I neuer haunted the Warres, ne knewe what thynge it is to handle weapons, improper and not seemely for myne estate and kynde." "The Warre" (quod he) {"}whereof I speake, is so naturall and common, as I doubt not, but you haue sometymes assayed, with what sleightes and camisados men vse to surpryse their enimies, howe they plant their ambushes, and what meanes both the assaylant and defendant ought to vse." "So far as I see" (sayd shee) "there resteth nothing for vs, but the assurance of the field, sith wee bee ready to enter in combat: and doe thinke that the fort shall not bee harde to winne, by reason of the Walles, dikes, rampers, bulwarks, platformes, counterforts, curtines, vamewres and engins which you haue prepared, besides a numbre of false brayes and flanks, placed in good order, and the whole defended from the thundringe Cannons and Bombardes, which do amaze the wandring enemy in the field. But I pray you leauing these warlike Tumults, to speak more boldly without these extrauagantes and digressions, for I take pitye to see you thus troubled: ready to exceede the boundes of your modesty and wonted wysedome." "Do not maruell at all mistresse" (quod he) "sith accordynge to new occurrentes and alterations, the purpose, talke, and counsel ordinarily do change I am become the seruaunt of one which maketh me altogither lyke vnto those that bee madde, and bound in Chaines, not able to speake or say any thing, but what the spyrites that be in them, do force them to vtter. For neither will I thynke, or speake any thing, but that which the Enchaunter Loue doth commaunde and suffer to expresse, who so rygorously doth vexe my hearte, as in place wher bouldenesse is most requysite, hee depriueth me of force, and leaueth mee without any Countenance. And being alone, God knoweth how frankly I doe wander in the place, where myne enemy may commaunde, and with what hardinesse I do inuade hir prouince. Alas, is it not pity then to see these diuersities in one selfe matter, and vpon one very thing? Truely I would endure wyllingly all these trauailes, if I wyst in the end, my seruice woulde be accepted, and hoped that my Martirdome shoulde fynde releefe: but liuing in this vncertainty, I must needes norysh the hunger and solace of the vnhappy, which are wishes and vaine hopes, trusting that some God wyll gayne me a faythful friend that will assaye to rid me from the hell, into the which I am throwne, or else to shorten thys Miserable lyfe, whych is a hundred tymes more paynfull than Death." In sayinge so, he began to sighe so straungely as a man would haue thought that two Smithes sledges working at the forge, had gyuen two blowes at his stomake, so vehement was the inclosed winde within his heart, that made him to fetche forth those terrible sighes, the Eyes not forgetting to yeld forth a Riuer of Teares, which gushynge forthe at the centre of hys Hearte, mounted into his Braynes, at lengthe to make issue through the Spoute, proper to the Chanell of sutch a Fountayne. Which the Gentlewoman seyng, moued with compassion, coulde not contain also from Weepyng, and therewythall sayde vnto him: "Although mine estate and reputation, which to this day I have kept vnspotted, defend the vse of my good wyl in al things that may defame mine honor, yet sir, seing the extremity which you suffer to be vnfained, I wil somwhat stretch my conscience, and assay to succor you with so good heart, as frankely you trust me with the secrets of your thought. It resteth then now for me to know what she is, to whome your deuocions be inclined whose heart and mind I wil so relief with the taste of your good wil, as I dare giue warrant, her appetit shal accept your profred seruice, and truly that woman may count her self happy that shal intertain the offer of a gentleman that is so honest and curteous, who meaneth with al fidelity to aduance and honor, not onely the superficial ornament of hir beauty, but the inward vertues of hir constant mind. And truly the earth seldom yeldeth those frutes in the harts of men in these our barren days, they being ouer growen with the shrubbes of disloialty the same choke vp the plantes of true Fidelity, the sedes whereof are sowen and replanted in the soyle of womens hartes, who not able to depart and vse the force and effects thereof will put vpon them conditions that bee cruell, to punish the Foolysh indiscreation of tryfling Louers, who disguised with the vizard of fained friendship, and paynted with coloured Amity, languishing in sighes and sorrowes, goe aboute to assay to deceiue the flexible Nature of them that prodigally employ theyr honor into the hands of sutch cruel, inconstante and foolysh suters." "Ah Mistresse" answered the Gentleman: "howe may I bee able to recompence that onely benefite which you promyse me now? But be sure that you see heere a Souldier and Gentleman presente which shall no lesse bee prodigall of hys Lyfe to doe you seruyce, than you bee lyberall of your reputation, to ease his Paines. Now sith it pleaseth you to shew sutch fauour to offer me your helpe and support in that which payneth me, I require no more at your hands, but to beare a letter which I shall wryte to mystresse Zilia, with whome I am so farre in loue, as if I do receiue no solace of my griefe, I know not howe I shall auoyde the cuttyng of the Threede, whych the spynning systers haue twisted to prolonge my lyfe, that henceforth can receiue no succor if by your meanes I do not atchieue the thing that holdeth me in bondage." The Gentlewoman was very sorrowful, when she vnderstoode that Seignior Philiberto had bent his Loue vpon sutch one, as would not consente to that requeste, and mutch lesse would render rest vnto hys myseryes, and therefore enforced hir selfe to moue that Foolyshe Fantasye out of his head. But he beyng already resolued in thys myshappe, and the same perceyued by her in the ende she sayde: "To the intente sir that you may not thynke that I doe meane to excuse the Satysfactyon of my promyse, make youre Letters, and of my Fayth I wil delyuer them. And albeyt I knowe verye well what bee the Honoures and Glorye of that Pylgryme, yet I wyll render to you agayne the true aunswere of hir speache whereby you maye consider the gayne you are lyke to make, by pursuing a Woman (although faire) of so small desert." The Gentleman fayled not to gyue her heartye Thankes, prayinge hir to tarry vntyll hee had written his letters: whereunto she most willingly obeyed. He then in his chaumber, began to fantasie a hundred hundred matters to write vnto his Mistresse, and after he had fixed theym in minde tooke Incke and Paper writing as followeth.

_The Letters of Seignior Philiberto of Virle, to Mistresse
Zelia of Montcall._

"The passion extreeme which I endure, (Madame) through the feruent loue I beare you, is sutch, as besides that I am assured of the little affection that resteth in you towards me agayne, in respect of that incredible seruitude which my desire is ready to employ, I haue no power to commaunde my force, ne yet to rid my selfe from my vowed deuotion and will to your incomparable beauty, although euen from the beginning I felt the pricks of the mortall shot which now torments my mynde. Alas, I do not know vnder what influence I am borne, nor what Fate doth guide my yeares, sith I doe perceyue that heauen, and loue, and hir whom alone I honor, doe confirme themselues with one assent to seeke myne ouerthrow. Alas, I thinke that all the powers aboue conspired together, to make me be the faythfull man, and perpetuall seruaunt of you my mistresse deare, to whom alone, I yelde my heart afflicted as it is, and the ioy of hidden thoughts noursed in my minde, by the contemplation and remembraunce of your excellent and perfect graces, whereof, if I be not fauored, I waight for death, from whych euen now I fly: not for feare of that whych she can doe, or of the vgly shape which I conceyue to be in hir, but rather to confirme my life, this Body for instrument to exercise the myndes conceypts for doinge your Commaundements, which Body I greatly feare shall proue the vnworthy cruelty, both of your gentle nouriture, and of those graces which Dame Nature most aboundantly hath powred in you. Be sure Madame that you shall shortlye see the Ende of him, which attendeth yet to beare so mutch as in him doeth lye, the vehement loue into an other world, which maketh me to pray you to haue pity on him, who (attending the rest and final sentence of his Death or Lyfe) doth humbly kisse your white and delicate handes, beseeching God to giue to you like ioy as his is, who desireth to be,

Wholy yours or not to be at all
Philiberto of Virle.{"}

The Letter written, closed and sealed, he deliuered to his neighbour, who promysed hym agayne to bryng him answere at Night. Thus this Messenger went hir way, leauing this pore languishyng Gentlemen hoping against hope, and fayning by and by some ioy and pleasure, wherein he bained himself with great contented minde. Then sodaynly he called againe vnto remembraunce, the cruelty and inciuility of Zilia, which shewed before his eyes so many kindes of Death, as tymes he thought vpon the same, thinking that he saw the choler wherewith his little curteous mistresse furiously did intertaine the messenger, who findinge Zilia comming forth of a garden adioining to her house, and hauing saluted her, and receiued like curteous salutation would haue framed hir talke, by honest excuse in the vnsemely charge and message: to hir vnto whom she was sent, and for some ease to the pore gentleman which approched nearer death than life. But Zilia break of hir talke saying: "I maruell mutch Gentle neighbor to see you heere at this time of the day, knowing your honest custome is to let passe no minute of the tyme, except it be emploied in some vertuous exercise." "Mistresse" answered the messanger, "I thank you for the good opinion you haue of me, and doe pray you to continue the same. For I do assure you that nothinge vayne or of lyttle effect hath made me slacke my businesse at this time, which me think I do not forslow, when I inforce my selfe to take pitye and mercy vpon the afflicted and the substaunce thereof I woulde disclose, if I feared not to offend you, and break the loue which of long tyme betweene vs two hath ben frequented." "I know not" (said Zilia) "whereunto your words do tend, althoughe my Hearte doth throbbe, and minde doth moue to make mee thinke your purposed talke to bee of none other effecte, than to say a thing which may redound to the preiudice of myne honour. Wherefore I pray you do not disclose what shall be contrary, (be it neuer so little) to the duety of Dames of our Degree." "Mystresse" sayd the Neighboure, "I suppose that the lyttle Lykelihoode touchyng in you the thinge for the helpe whereof I come, hath made you feele some passion, contrary to the greefe of him that indures so mutch for your sake. Vnto whome without feare of your dyspleasure, I gaue my Faithe in Pledge to beare this Letter." In saying so, she drewe the same out of hir Bosome, and presentyng it to cruell Silia, shee sayde: "I beseeche you to thynke that I am not ignoraunt of the evyll wherewyth the Lorde of Virle is affected, who wrote these letters. I promysed him the duety of a Messanger towards you: and so constrayned by promyse I could doe no lesse, than to delyuer you that which hee doeth sende, with Seruyce sutch as shall endure for euer, or yf it shall please you to accept him for sutch a one as hee desireth to be. For my parte I onelye praye you to reade the Contentes, and accordynglye to gyue mee Aunswere: for my Fayth is no further bounde, but trustelye to report to hym the thinge whereuppon you shall bee resolued." Zilia which was not wonte to receyue very ofte sutch Ambassades, at the firste was in mind to breake the Letters, and to retourne the Messanger wythout aunswere to hir shame. But in the Ende takyng Heart, and chaunging hir affectyon, she red the Letters not without shewing some very great alteration outwardely, which declared the meanynge of hir thought that diuersly did stryue wythin hir mynde: for sodaynly shee chaunged her Coloure twyce or thryce, nowe waxing pale lyke the increasynge Moone Eclypsed by the Sunne, when shee feeleth a certayne darkenynge of hir borowed Lyghte, then the Vermylyon and coloured Taynte came into hir Face agayne, wyth no lesse hewe than the blomed Rose newelye budded forthe, whych Encreased halfe so mutch agayne, the excellencye of that wherewyth Nature had indued hir. And then she paused a whyle. Notwythstandynge, after that shee had red, and red agayne hir Louer's letter, not able to dissemble hir foolishe anger which vexed hir heart, shee sayde vnto the mistresse messanger: "I would not haue thought that you, being a woman of good fame would (by abusinge your duety,) haue bene the ambassador of a thing so vncomely for your Estate, and the house where of you come, and towards me which neuer was sutch one (ne yet pretend to be.) And trust me it is the loue I beare you, which shall for this tyme make me dissemble what I thincke, reseruinge in silence, that whych (had it come from an other) I would haue published to the great dishonour of hir that maketh so little accoumpt of my chastity. Let it suffice therefore in tyme to come for you to thinke and beleue, that I am chaste and honest: and to aduertise the Lord of Virle to proceede no further in his sute: for rather will I dy, than agree to the least poynct of that which hee desires of mee. And that he may knowe the same, be well assured that hee shall take his leaue of that priuate talke which sometimes I vsed with him to my great dishonor, as far as I can see. Get you home therefore, and if you loue your credit so mutch, as you see me curious of my chastity, I beseech you vse no further talke of hym, whom I hate so mutch, as his folly is excessiue, for I do little esteeme the amorous Toyes and fayned passions, whereunto sutch louinge fooles doe suffer themselues to be caried headlong." The messenger ashamed to heare hir selfe thus pinched to the quicke, aunswered hir very quietly without mouing of hir pacience: "I pray to God (mistresse) that he may recouer the different disease al most incurable in eyther of you twayne, the same being so vehement, as altered into a phrenesie, maketh you in this wyse, incapable of reason." Finishing these wordes she tooke hir leaue of Zilia, and arriued to the Louer's house, she founde him lying vpon his bed, rather dead than a liue: who seeing his neyghbor returned backe agayne, with Face so sadde, not tarying for the aunswere which she was about to make, he began to say: "Ah infortunate Gentleman, thou payest wel the vsury of thy pleasures past when thou diddest lyue at lyberty, free from those trauayles which now do put thee to death, without suffering thee to dy. Oh happy, and more than happy had I ben, if inconstant Fortune had not deuised this treason, wherein I am surprised and caught, and yet no raunsome can redeeme from prison, but the most miserable death that euer poore louer suffred. Ah Mistresse, I knowe well that Zilia esteemeth not my Letters, ne yet regardeth my loue, I confesse that I haue done you wrong by thus abusing your honest amity, for the solace of my payne. Ah fickle loue, what foole is hee which doth commit hymselfe to the rage and fury of the Waues of thy foming and tempestuous Seas? Alas I am entred in, with great, and gladsome cheere, through the glistering shew before myne eyes of the faynt shining Sunne beames, whereunto as soone as I made sayle, the same denied me light of purpose to thrust me forth into a thousand winds, tempests, and raging stormes of Rayne. By meanes whereof I see no meane at all to hope for end of my mishaps: and mutche lesse the shipwracke that sodainely may rid me from this daunger more intollerable, than if I were ouerwhelmed wythin the bottomlesse depth of the mayne Ocean. Ah deceyuer and wily Souldiour, why hast thou made me enterprise the voyage farre of from thy solitudes and Wildernesse, to geue me ouer in the middest of my necessity? Is this thy maner towards them which franckly followe thy tract, and pleasauntly subdue themselues to thy trayterous follies? At least wyse if I sawe some hope of health would indure without complaynt thereof: yea, and it were a more daungerous tempest. But O good God, what is he of whom I speake? Of whom do I attend for solace and releefe? Of him truely which is borne for the ouerthrow of men. Of whom hope I for health? Of the most noysom poyson that euer was mingled with the subtilest druggs that euer were. Whom shall I take to be my Patron? He which is in ambush traiterously to catch me, that he may martir me worsse than he hath done before. Ah cruell Dame, that measurest so euill, the good will of him that neuer purposed to trespasse the least of thy commaundements. Ah, that thy beauty should finde a Subiect so stubborne in thee, to torment them that loue and honor thee. O maigre and vnkinde recompence, to expell good seruaunts that be affectionate to a seruice so iust and honest. Ah Basiliske, coloured ouer with pleasure and swetnesse, how hath thy sight dispersed his poyson throughout mine heart? At least wise if I had some drugge to repell thy force, I should liue at ease, and that without this sute and trouble. But I feele and proue that this sentence is more than true:

No physicke hearbes the griefe of loue can cure,
Ne yet no drugge that payne can well assure.