Chapter V: Part 5

Those who do not know the nature, quality and condition of spirits, will account this history a fable: wherefore I do not think it unfit to advertise them that there are some, fallen from the lowest choir of angels, who despite the essential pain, which is the eternal privation from the sight of God, suffer less pain than the other, as not having so much sinned. And those are of such nature that they cannot much hurt men, but do take pleasure to displease them; with frightings, noises, rumours, subtleties and such like other things which they do in the night in houses, which thereby they make altogether uninhabitable, not being able otherwise to hurt but by these foolish and ridiculous effects, limited and bound by the almighty power of God. These the Italians call fairies, the Spaniards elves and the French hobgoblins; of whose mockery and sports William Totan speaks in his book War of the Devils, calling them devils of the least noble hierarchy. Cassian writes that in Norway they possess highways, play with passenger, and do hire themselves out for wages as servants. Jerome Manchy reports of a spirit which was in love with a young man, served him, solicited him in divers forms and stealing money bought him many things wherein he delighted. Michel Pselho makes six kinds of these spirits: fiery, airy, earthy, watery, subterranean and fire flying spirits: in all which authors one may see, their properties, their illusions, and their remedies.

The light of day, which is the amiable and illustrious daughter of heaven, and the only guide of mortals, did sufficiently assure Pamphilus that now he need not any more to fear the evil infestation of the spirits: then waking this good man, they both rose, and went together to the chamber where Pamphilus lay: but entering in to see the stir that was made the last night, they found the bed, Pamphilus’ clothes and all other things in the same place where they had laid, without any appearance that they had been stirred. Whereat Pamphilus being ashamed, with haste made himself ready without speaking a word, and thinking that this good hermit would account him for a great liar and a man of weak courage, departed from him, and thence took his way towards Guadalupe without once daring to turn his head towards the city, vowing to himself never to come into it again upon any occasion whatsoever should happen, if he were not assured to find his Nisa there.

There are two hills in the confines of the mountain of Morena, which as two strong walls environ the town and monastery of Guadalupe, with so many fountains which run from the rocks into the bottom of the valley, so much fruit and so much grain of all sorts that it seems Nature knowing that which should happen, had destined this place from the beginning of the world to build this palace to the princess of heaven. The pilgrim being come thither and having adored the Virgin, visited the temple and paid his vow: as he went back again down the stairs, at that time of the year when the sun is equally distant between the two Poles; he met a passenger going towards the temple, who earnestly beholding him asked him if he had not known either there or in any other place, a pilgrim of Madrid called Pamphilus, who lately was in Aragon. Pamphilus, troubled with this demand and fearing that he was sought after with some warrant from the justice for Godfrey’s death, turned back and fled towards the temple; but the Aragonese by some tokens which were given him, and by his sudden flight, presuming that it was he, followed him and courteously calling him said, stay knight; I am not come to apprehend you, neither doth the privilege of this place permit any man to be arrested prisoner here. It is only a letter from a young lady called Flerida, which I bring you: see thereby what I am, and for what occasion I seek you. Pamphilus then staying took the letter, and having opened it, found the contents as follows:

To the Pilgrim of Madrid:

Thou thyself O Pamphilus may judge in what care thou left me, if thou hast had never so little thought of me since thou left me. And now as well to satisfy myself as to know how thy misfortunes are determined, have I sent this messenger to you. My brothers being returned and missing thee in the prison where they had left thee, witnessed more sorrow for thy departure then for my brother Godfrey’s death. But a few days after, a woman of the country falling out with another, amongst other words (which choler provoked, a thing ordinary amongst women) said she was the cause of Godfrey’s death. Being thereupon taken, and having confessed that Tansiles killed him out of jealousy, he was apprehended, and the crime being verified, the third day after he had his head cut off. My mother and my brother being now assured of thy innocence doe bewail their hard usage towards thee, and have made great search to find thee. If thou wilt return, they will redeem the injury of thy unjust Imprisonment with embraces and kind usage, and thou shalt thereby pay me for the desire which I continually have of thy welfare, and for the tears which thou hast cost me.

The pilgrim wondered at Tansiles’ strange fate, and was something moved in his mind with Flerida's loving desires: but fearing to offend Nisa, he satisfied the messenger as well as he could, giving him the jewels which Flerida had given him, entreating that he would secretly deliver them, together with a most kind letter to her, which he presently wrote, and so the same day dispatched away the messenger, who went his way very joyful that he had in so short a time so happily dispatched his business: for Flerida not thinking he could easily find him, had commanded him to search him in every house where pilgrims were used to lodge throughout all Spain. I do here remember that I heard Pamphilus say, after he had retired himself to covert from the storm of his fortunes, that he never in all his life found anything so difficult as to resist Flerida's desire, for besides the obligations wherein he stood tied, which were very great and no less than for his life, she was most perfectly fayre; yet he continued his loving friendship by letters, not only with her but with her brothers also, until that she being married with a knight of Andalucia was carried into the Indies.

Ten times had the sun circled heaven in the time of the year when as Astrea doth equal the balances of the Equinoctial, when Pamphilus journeying night and day through deserts and unknown ways found himself one morning when the day began to smile on him at the side of craggy mountains, oppressed both with weariness and hunger, and much more with the remembrance of Nisa, where sitting at the foot of an oak beholding the solitariness of the fields and the murmuring of the little brooks which fell precipitately from the mountain, he heard a flute played upon, to the sound whereof turning his eyes, he saw a man sitting between two rocks amidst a flock of sheep, which seemed to leave their feeding to hearken to his music.

But Pamphilus having other discourses in his head went to him, and wishing health to him, (which he could not obtain for himself) and courteously again saluted by the shepherd, who having nothing that savoured of rusticness but his apparel, made him know in a few reasons his understanding; and the other quickly discerned in the pilgrim that he had more need of meat than discourse. Wherefore getting fire out of two laurel sticks which for that purpose he carried with him, they poorly fed of that which Fabio (for so was this shepherd called) had willingly dressed, the ground serving them for a table, the grass for napkins, and bubbling brooks for their drink and music. They passed away the best part of the day in telling their adventures: and when it grew night, they retired themselves into a little village, whether Fabio led Pamphilus to keep his master’s oxen, who was a farmer of a grange which Nisa’s father had in the mountains. Pamphilus was glad of this condition, hoping that by this means he might with time have news of his mistress. By the way Pamphilus entreated Fabio to relate the cause of his retiring into this place, who although that this request brought to his mind a great deal of grief and passion, yet after some sighs he shortly told him that he was borne in Biscay, and descended of most noble parents who were careful to fit him in his youth with qualities answerable to his birth, wherein he profited so well, that he neither raised discontentment in his parents nor shame to his tutors; but after growing more ripe in years, and incited with the courageous heat of youth. In those times, when the English with their warlike ships ravaged along our coasts, as well of Spain as the islands, and oftentimes with their desperate resolutions made themselves masters of our Indian gold, I put myself to sea in one of the King’s armadas, as well with an intent to gain honour by my valour, as experience in those services, thereby to be the abler to serve my country wherein I was so fortunate (because I will not say too much) that I got command myself, and by taking and executing two or three of those pirates was in a fair way both of grace with the King, and renown in the world, when my eyes were the instruments whereby the most excellent and admirable beauty of Albiana captivated my heart so powerfully that all other courses set apart, I was enforced to give myself wholly to her service, wherein after some small time, I had so happy a progression, that she did confess she was obliged by my perseverance, and by the opinion which the world held of me, to esteem of me and of my service: thus happily in her favour I spent some time, until it fortuned some English slaves which I had, endeavouring to make an escape but by my soldiers and mariners prevented, I inflicted a cruel punishment on them, bound thereunto by that common policy which exacts from masters, a severe hand over their mutinous slaves; especially I used it towards one, who more eminent then the rest, as well in regard of his person as that he was a chief author of their attempt, which Albiana with most earnest prayers to me sought to divert, were it out of a pitiful compassion, ordinary in most women, or that she took any special liking to him. But I having more care at that time to execute my rage, then mindful of her importunity, (which I did not think would have turned to that consequence) for example sake, which as it is powerful, so is it most necessary, especially amongst men of our profession, who serve ourselves with multitudes of them, persevered in having him soundly punished. Whereat she discontented, though with little show thereof, underhand wrought such means by her friends at court, before I imagined any such thing, that the slave was by messenger from the Duke of Lerma, and by warrant under the King’s hand fetched from me, and the next day she did let me know that any denial to a woman effects her hatred; for she sent me a letter wherein she said I was a cruel monster, and that she was so far from loving and esteeming me, that she would ever hate my barbarous nature, and she wondered that any valour could be lodged where cruelty had such a habitation; to conclude she told me that I should never come in her sight, nor be where she might hear of my name. How grievous this was to me gentle sir may easily be guessed if you knew the extremity of my love, which was so much that I presently without the knowledge of any of my friends took such order as I could with my command, and retired myself into these desert places, where I am resolved under this disguised habit to end my days; seeing that Albiana will have it so, who whether her complaints were just or no, or whether they but serve to colour her inconstancy, shall be always loved and truly obeyed by me, to whom only this comfort is left: that though life hath left me, death will take me. Before Fabio had finished this short discourse, they had discovered the village where Alfesibus did keep Nisa's father’s cattle, in the best house of the village, which for a country house was a fair one. Alfesibus received Pamphilus, and informed by Fabio of his intent he agreed with him for wages; and after an evil supper and a worse lodging he passed the night miserably. And when morning appeared, Pamphilus went after his oxen to the solitary fields, where he lived some time free from the confused noises of the cities, with a good leisure to meditate on his adventures.

In the meantime Nisa healed of her wounds and knew that she had received them from her own brother out of jealousy which he had conceived against her for Finia. And entreating her good host that he would have pity on her blood, by both their means his pardon and liberty was obtained, the one soliciting, and the other forbearing the prosecution. One of the wounds which Nisa had received was in her left side, and as in the dressing it could not be avoided but that she was known to be a woman, although she had conjured her host to keep it secret from his family, yet it was impossible: because that his son Thesander unhappily one day was at her dressing and transported so into his mind the wounds which she had in her body, that within a few days, he fell sick by force of this continual thought, not being able to receive into his imagination any thought, but the desire of this beauty. For all the heaven of love moves between these two poles, imagination and desire. And then his body is as full of imaginary and fantastic figures as the astrologer’s globe. Thesander did all that he could to divert himself from this thought, and as evils are healed by their contraries, he proposed to his eyes other objects, and other cares to his imaginations: But as art is made out of many experiences which were wanting to Thesander, he rather found the evil than the remedy. For it is impossible that young men should know much, because that to be wise requires experience, and that is gotten with time.

Nisa was much grieved at Thesander’s passion, although he had never spoken to her about it. But as he which is amorous so often speaks as he looks on that which he loves, she easily read in his looks the depth of his thoughts; and willing to disabuse him so, that not being understood by others, she might let him understand the vanity of his love, one night after she was healed, being entreated by all the company, she sang these verses following:

I wot not what is love, nor yet his flame,
Nay more, to know it I have not the mind:
In others, twill suffice a man may find,
The woes this tyrant in their souls doth frame.
That I for him do sigh he cannot say,
He masters not my will, that bideth free:
His bad and my good nature disagree,
And free, me from his empire’s laws for aye.
To cast his darts elsewhere, I him require,
My heart (as rocks of brass) doth scorn his might:
Let him not grieve, I from him take my flight,
Because I am all ye, and he all fire.

But they rather increased the fire which was too much kindled in Thesander’s soul, who taking the lute from Nisa answered her with these verses, which he had conceived in his mind the night before:

The great God’s supreme power to deny,
Unto my soul as rashness I do hold:
This to deny with truth I may be bold:
Mine evil, nor yet myself I can destroy.
My knowledge, love hath ravished whom you blame,
I think he hath no might nor yet discretion:
If I be thus tormented for confession.
You that deny his power feel not the same.
He makes the widest breach in strongest brass,
From coldest ice, he greatest fire can draw:
Not one can fight him; for none ever saw,
Ought else his shafts in swiftness to surpass.

Very aptly might Nisa at that time have revenged the motions which Pamphilus had to agree to Flerida's will: if love had been a spirit (as some have believed) which might have told them to her.

But it was not just that so rare a faith should be spotted with any infamy. Thesander’s love in the meantime, springing from this first spark and increased by Nisa's resistance, like a fire which a little water makes more violent; or like palm trees growing most, when a weight is laid on them.

Nisa waxed strong and walked abroad, when desperate Thesander revealed himself to a physician, who encouraged him either to manifest his evil or else as the best remedy, against his love to work from his imagination this deep melancholy, and to divert it by some honest exercise, and that the courage of the practiser is the first matter on which the heavens imprint the form of their succours, for as much as their favour is not obtained by womanish prayers and vows but by the vigorous actions of men, agreeing to which the Greek adage says that the Gods do sell their blessings unto men, in exchange of their labours. Thesander was animated by these counsels, but finding that divisions were weak remedies against the splendour of Nisa’s beauty, fell into a relapse, and grew so weak that he was constrained to reveal the cause of his sickness. The pitiful father who was already informed of Nisa's quality conjured her with tears to be mistress of his wealth, and marry his son, of whose sickness there was no other remedy: Nisa admiring at the several ways whereby fortune sought to separate her from Pamphilus, revealed then to the good old man the whole history of her life, and laid before him all the impossibilities which did excuse her from satisfying so many courtesies; the chiefest whereof was, in his willingness to admit her to the highest degree of honour and affection that was possible for him to do, she being a stranger, and in such an indecent habit, for a woman fit to be his son’s wife. By this means she satisfied the father: but poor Thesander was so desperate that falling into greater extremity, he was at the last point of his life; like unto trees whose boughs do not lose their greenness until that their humour which doth quicken them do absolutely fail, because that hope is the radical moisture which doth keep us alive, and is to us as oil to our fire. Nisa seeing that Thesander was for her sake upon the point of losing his life, and she herself had not now lived, but out of his father’s pity, was exceedingly perplexed that she could not satisfy so just an obligation: and not being able to rest in these confused thoughts, the representations of Pamphilus’ labours did always appear in her mind, who she thought to be prisoner still at Valencia. Thesander’s evil increased, Nisa deferred the remedy, and the father accused this poor amorous man, in my opinion innocent, because, that in things natural, we do neither merit nor demerit: In brief, all the whole family entreated Nisa that she would have pity of Thesander’s young years, and that at the least she would assuage his passion with one amorous word.

Amongst all the variable fortunes as well by land as sea which our pilgrim had suffered, there was none so difficult for her as this. Nevertheless she resolved to entertain Thesander until he had recovered some strength, that thereby he might the better be able to bear the subtlety which she intended. And in this she did not deceive herself, for our spirits have some resemblance with the nature of young horses, which are easier managed with gentle bits than with hard; the sweet words, the feigned hopes and embraces of Nisa within few days restored Thesander’s weakened spirit, during which time Celio was delivered out of prison with an exceeding desire to see her, as well because he had heard news of her health, as because he imagined that if Finia were not in her company, yet at the least he might hear some news of her. Nevertheless the sorrowful Nisa believing that Celio desired to kill her, not knowing what Pamphilus had told him of her disguising herself in the habit of a pilgrim; so soon as she heard of his freedom, fled secretly from Barcelona. In the meantime Lisard the eldest brother to Celio and Nisa, who as you heard was a soldier in Flanders, disembarking in the same town of Barcelona, far from thinking that persons so near him were there: having met with Finia on the way, on the first day of her travel, although almost in the last of the tragical comedy of her fortunes, sorry to see so fair a pilgrim go a-foot, understanding which way she was bound, offered to accompany her into Castile: Finia willing to be gone from Celio, whom she thought never to be able to appease, and not knowing that this was his brother, accepted his offer and went with him to Toledo. Where being received of his parents with all kinds of joy, his desire was that Finia might also be well entertained and kindly used, telling them in what manner he had found her. His parents received her with a great deal of honour and embraces, yet not without some suspicions that she was some spoil of the Flanders war. Lisard then asked for his brother Celio and for his sister Nisa, they telling him the cause of their absence. Finia thereby knew that the house wherein she was come was her husband’s father’s, and that he who had brought her thither was his brother, whereat not sufficiently wondering, she then thought that fortune began to look on her misfortunes with a more clear countenance.

The day following, Lisard resolving to seek for his sister Nisa and to kill Pamphilus, told his parents that he had some pretensions at the court, on which he built the necessity of a new voyage, showing them some attestations in writing of that which he had done in Flanders, for which he hoped of good recompense. His Father perspicuously knowing his mind through his reasons, wherewith he endeavoured to colour his journey, and fearing to lose him with the other, propounded a thousand objections, telling him that he should now rest after his voyage, and from the travails of war, contenting himself with the honour which he had gotten, because that in this age the reward did fly from the merit. Lisard thus persuaded by his father remained in the house, although it grieved him that after he had bought so much renown with the loss of his blood so far from his own country, he should now lie still and rust with infamy; finally being discontent that he was beheld as he thought with this mark, he went into the country to shun the first encounter of the people’s sight, into the same village where amongst the other servants of his father’s farmer, Pamphilus lived, who was never before known of Lisard; and as one day he beheld him more curiously then he did all the others, for hardly could the baseness and indignity of his habit disguise his person and beauty; he called him to him, and inquired of the cause, why he lived in this base office. The excuses which he made did not seem current (indeed being feigned by Pamphilus, who already knew that Lisard was Nisa's eldest brother). Wherefore Lisard said to him that he should do better if leaving this rustic life, he would abide in his service and take the charge of two horses which he had, for which he would give him wages, and convenient clothes; Pamphilus refused this offer, not that he was not willing to return into the happy house in which he had first known Nisa: but fearing that being known in her absence, he should run a dangerous fortune of his life. Nevertheless, being weary of the austere life which he led amongst these mountains, for there is nothing more true (as the philosophers say) than that those which are solitary are either gods or devils, he resolved in the end to accept this condition, wishing rather that he might die by Nisa's parents’ hands, then live any longer in these solitary deserts.

Now you see how forward we are in bringing back our pilgrim from his long travels, seeing that from being a courtier, he became a soldier; from a soldier, a captive; from a captive, a pilgrim; from a pilgrim, a prisoner; from a prisoner, a madman; from a madman, a herdsman; from a herdsman, a miserable lackey, in the same house where all his misfortunes began: to the end that you seeing this circle of fortune from one pole to another, without one moment of rest, or any of good in the beginning, middle or end of his adventures: you may learn to know, how travelling abroad brings honour, profit and many times the contrary. All consists in the disposition of heaven, whose influence guides the passages of our life, as it pleases them; because that although the empire of free-will be above, yet few persons be found who resist their motions; it is therefore a weakness unworthy of a gentle heart not to dare hazardously to enterprise anything, seeing it is evident that if those who have effected great things had not begun them, they had never achieved them. As also hazardous enterprises belong only to brave courage; although heaven disposes of the success. Above all things the election imports much, as Propertius says, all things are not equal unto all. Seneca tells of an old man who being asked how he could live to those years in following the court, answered that it was in doing good turns and not excepting against injuries; but this patience doth not seem honourable to me, nor that it is any virtue to serve to live. And if posterity doth render unto everybody his honour, as Tacitus says, what renown can he leave behind him, who dies as it were in the cradle, and from his swaddling clouts to his hearse hath hardly shifted a shirt; like the plant which hath the form of a living lamb, the stock whereof growing out of the ground to the stomach, and not being able to eat more grass than that which grows round about it, dies for want of nourishment. Glorious was Darius, when being come to the river Tearus, which takes his beginning from two fountains, whereof the one is hot and the other cold, he caused the famous inscription whereof Herodotus speaks to be made: To this place, against the Scythians, came the most famous of all men, Darius the son of Hystaspes. Who hath ever obtained anything without running for it? Who hath ever run for it, if he have not seen it? And what rest can he know, who hath never proved any storm or adversity by sea or land? For there are no days so sweet and comfortable as those which we spend in the arms of our friends, after long travel and great dangers; nor any nights so sweet, as those which are spent about the fire with an attentive family, unto the discourses of one’s former dangers and adventures; as Ulysses within Zacinth to his dear Penelope and his son Telemachus. So after many divers adventures, Pamphilus comes to the happy day of his rest, and though he were not at the siege of Troy, nor at the conquest of the New World with Cortes, yet it was no small valour in him to defend himself from so many different and perilous assaults of fortune, and in the end to have merited by so many labours, the rest which shortly he shall enjoy in his own country.

Whilst these things thus passed in the mountains of Toledo, Thesander was being recovered by Nisa's loving embrace, and she disposed to leave him, as well because his life was assured as because that she desired to assure hers, and deliver herself from the care wherewith she was searched after by her brother Celio.

One night when sleep mastered her lover’s senses, and held a silence over the whole family, she went out of the city, and took the way towards Lerida. But night had hardly all hid her black head, crowned both with sleep and fear, when the deceived Thesander waked out of the most sorrowful dream that could possess his fantasy, representing to his imagination the absence of fugitive Nisa, together with her deceitful words, her sweet disdains, and her fair face; a thing which sometime happens principally to him which loves or fears. Inasmuch as those things which threaten us do represent to us in sleeping, the same cares which we have in the day awake. Thesander rising in this imagination, began to search Nisa guided by the light of his soul, and not finding her, it little wanted that he did not die with grief for her departure; neither his father nor the rest of his parents had power enough to keep him from running after. And so he came to Toledo a long time before Nisa, for a lover who follows that which he loves doth go faster than he who flies from that which he doth not love; because he which doth not love grows sorrowful in going, and he which loves by going puts off his grief.

In the meantime, Lisard much pleased with Pamphilus’ understanding and person, had taken him to wait in his chamber, not suffering him to live in the baseness of his first office which he had given him, and in this quality he lived at Toledo with his master, always taking great care that his master’s parents might not see him, because that if they had viewed him with any consideration, they must needs have known him. But Lisard who with frequent conversation with Finia (whom his parents did use as lovingly as they could have done Nisa) was fallen in love with her, revealed this to Pamphilus, and making him the minister of his passion, gave him charge to speak to her, and to dispose her (with all his power) to be favourable to his desires; Pamphilus obeying his master and taking occasion one festival day, when everybody was abroad, went to find Finia from Lisard: but when in coming to her he knew her to be his sister, and she knew him to be her brother, they both remained astonished, dumb and as immovable as stones. But shortly after this first confusion, Pamphilus began to speak in this manner: Sister, tell me by what means thou came hither, since Celio abandoning thee left thee in Barcelona, for I know already the whole progress of thy misfortune, as conformable unto mine as we are equal in birth.

By his means whom the destinies pleased, said Finia, to whose disposing my will cannot resist: Lisard brother of my husband Celio, having found me on the way from Saragossa brought me hither, where I think I may abide his return with more honour. The same man said Pamphilus, sent me to thee to speak to thee about his love, and he having found me in a grange which he hath in the mountains of Toledo, where I had sheltered myself from the strokes of fortune, under the basest condition of the world, hath brought me now into this place where thou now see me in the quality of a groom; and because that heretofore in the beginning of my fortunes I have been in this house, I kept myself from being seen until this time, as thou may well know, having not been seen until this day by thee. Suffer and abide the end of thy fortune as I have done, and do not say thou know me, for I will entertain Lisard with some lie from thee, until such time that we may see whereunto the revolution of this conjunction of our misfortunes will tend, and when will end the effects of this our honour’s eclipse. Thus did Pamphilus and Finia meet, and instead of reprehending one the other they remained there both good friends, for it is ordinary with those who are culpable to dissemble the faults of others, lest they be reprehended for their own. In the meantime, Thesander went from place to place in Toledo inquiring for Nisa, and when this news came to Lisard’s ears, that there was a young man which enquired for his sister, he verily thought that it was Pamphilus, who by some sinister accident having lost her, was come thither to find her. And telling Pamphilus the story of Nisa's ravishing, which he knew much better, told him, that he was now in Toledo in her quest; and that having no man, in whose hands he could better commit the satisfaction of his revenge than his, nor of whose courage and fidelity he could be better assured of, he entreated him, and conjured him to kill him. A notable winding in a success so strange and so embroiled, which is so much the more admirable to me, who know it better then they who read it, how true it is.

Pamphilus, astonished to see that he was engaged to kill Pamphilus, or at the least a man who either in searching for Nisa, or else one who for the only disaster of his name deserved to die, endeavoured to find him, rather to know what he would with Nisa than with any mind to execute Lisard’s intent on the others innocence. His master did not accompany him in this action; for as Tacitus says of Nero, although he commanded murders, yet he always turned his sight away from them.

Pamphilus having found Thesander privately inquired of the cause why he searched for Nisa: Thesander recounted the story from Nisa's being wounded by Celio, and healed by his father, and that she had left them one night without bidding them adieu, paying with ingratitude all the good offices which were done her in that house. Neither did he forget to relate how she (for the dressing of her wound) being constrained to expose her breast, she was discovered to be a woman; from whence proceeded his desire and the cause why he sought her in this place, which she said was the place of her birth. Joyful was Pamphilus to hear of the healing of Nisa's wounds, and instead of killing Thesander he led him into his chamber, where having used him with all the courtesy that was possible, he told him that in this house where he remained were Nisa's parents and brother.

Lisard having a great opinion of Pamphilus’ courage (Pamphilus whom he called Maurice) did verily believe that he would infallibly kill Nisa's ravisher, which he believed to be Thesander, wherefore he demanded leave of his father to go, fearing that if Maurice should perhaps be taken prisoner, he might confess the author of Pamphilus’ death. The father afflicted at his departure, fearing that in this his age, death might take him in the absence of all his children, would know the cause of his journey: and Lisard telling him that he had sent to kill him, who had run away with his sister, who was come to Toledo, and that he did believe that his servant unto whom he had given this commission had already executed it, put the old man into a greater care then he was in before, much fearing the damage which might come from so violent a revenge: Pamphilus had persuaded Thesander to call himself Pamphilus to all those who should ask his name in Toledo, assuring him that he should the sooner hear news of Nisa: In this time Lisard and his Father coming into Pamphilus’ chamber, to know how he had succeeded in the execution of his command, found Pamphilus and Thesander together. They demanded of Thesander what he was, who answered: that he was Pamphilus. Lisard drew out his sword instantly to kill him, but he was withheld by his father, who having already known Pamphilus told his son that the other was Pamphilus. Lisard believed that his father told him so to appease him, wherefore he fiercely strove to break away from his father, that he might kill Thesander, saying that the other was his man Maurice. The whole family drawn thither by the noise and seeing this rage to prevent greater mischief, ran to the magistrates, who hearing the stir raising the neighbours laid Pamphilus and Thesander in two several prisons, until it was verified which was Pamphilus, for although that Thesander apprehending the danger began now to say that it was not he, was not believed: for all believed that fear made him deny his name. In the meantime Jacinth being whole of his wounds which Pamphilus had given him, sought him all over Barcelona, and not finding him, believed that he was returned into his own country, as well to follow him as hearing that his Lucinda was at Madrid, resolved to go thither, and passing by Saragossa he found the pilgrim Nisa at the entrance of the famous pillar which was built by the angels in the time of the apostle who planted religion in Spain, and having (by many tokens which Pamphilus had told him, and marked her out to him) known her, he also made himself known as Jacinth. Nisa assuring herself of him out of the love which she knew was between him and Pamphilus, betook her to a habit proper to her sex, and left this pilgrim’s apparel at the walls of this holy house, together with her staff, which in so many dangers and such long ways had been so faithful a companion. And so travelling together towards Madrid, Nisa desired to seek Pamphilus first in his own house, whither being come with Jacinth, and finding his sorrowful mother afflicted for the loss of her children, she comforted her much by the assurance which she gave to her, that they were both alive, and the hope they put her in to find them at Toledo. The good old lady encouraged by these words and persuaded by Nisa and the great desire she had to see her children, took her youngest daughter Eliza with her (being her staff and her comfort in her afflictions, who in her brother’s absence had increased no less in beauty then Finia, nor in understanding than Pamphilus) and went all together to Toledo.

The miserable Tiberia, Jacinth’s sister, thinking that her treason being discovered, she should be hardly used by her brother as by the disgrace and danger whereunto she had unjustly exposed him she merited; left Valencia and with such of the family as would follow her, she addressed herself to that city, whether fortune already did seem to call these lovers.

Celio in the meantime despairing to find Finia or satisfy Nisa, he for his part being more than satisfied of both their innocences, returned to Toledo and some days before his coming thither he met Tiberia, in whose company as he journeyed he heard news of the combat between Jacinth and Pamphilus, for which cause he offered her his house to retire to, until such time as that writing to her brother, she made her peace with him, which might be done by the help of his parents, whose assistance he promised.

In this manner in one day, and in one time, entered into the noble Leonicio’s house: Aureliana, Pamphilus; mother, Nisa, Eliza, Jacinth, Tiberia and he who was most despaired of, Celio, of whom there was no news expected, being accounted as dead, or captive as some had reported. The sudden joy to see Nisa so beautiful, and Celio so well, stronger in this habit than in that which he had brought home from his studies, before his peregrination, bound Leonicio to shed abundance of tears, and Aureliana could not forbear when she saw her dear Finia so long time lost, and Celio with tender embraces, demanded pardon for his causeless suspicions, and of Nisa for the wounds which he had given her, being ignorant what she was. There was none discontented but Jacinth, who seeing his sister Tiberia in this company without knowing how she came thither, would needs take a public satisfaction before all the world. But the authority of so many signal persons not only stayed him, but obtained pardon from him for his sister’s offence. Thesander and Pamphilus were taken out of prison, and then it was quickly known who was the true Pamphilus: whose happy finding there did so rejoice the whole company and the whole town that all the nobility and gentry ran to see him, and rejoice with their parents for their happy arrival. Amongst all which came to this happy and joyful welcoming home were fair Lucinda, who was married to Jacinth, to satisfy the many obligations wherein she was due. Lisard having opened his eyes upon Tiberia's beauty, and by the impression which the report of Celio's love and Finia's made in his mind, clean wiped away his affection of that kind to Finia, he entreated Jacinth to give her to him in marriage, which was easily granted, and with everyone’s consent. And to comfort Thesander for the love which he bore to Nisa, he was married to faire Eliza, Pamphilus’ sister, then about fourteen years old. Celio, with joy to all, married Finia. And Nisa after so many divers fortunes, with the joy of both their parents, (which was so full that it melted them into tears, and almost all the company) was given into the beloved arms of her most dear Pamphilus.

Happy pilgrims of love, your vows being accomplished, now rest happily and joyfully (after so many bitter fortunes, wherewith your loves have been seasoned) in the sweet repose of your native place, in which peace I will leave you, that you may enjoy the delights which you have merited: and seeing that I have left your statues in the temple, I will leave in the temple of renown the pen with which I wrote your unfortunate loves.

FINIS.