Wherein is Discovered
by a pleasant Historie, that although by the meanes
of sinister fortune Truth may be concea
led, yet by Time in spight of fortune it
is most manifestly reuealed.
Pleasant for age to auoyde drowsie thoughtes,
profitable for youth to eschue other wanton
pastimes, and bringing to both a de
Temporis filia veritas.
Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit vtile dulci.
Imprinted at London by Thomas Orwin for Thomas
Cadman, dwelling at the Signe of the Bible, neere
vnto the North doore of Paules,
To the Gentlemen Rea
The paultring Poet Aphranius being blamed for troublinge the Emperor Traian with so many doting Poems: aduentured notwithstanding, stil to present him with rude and homely verses, excusing himselfe
himselfe] ~ 1595; himfelfe 1588
with the courtesie of the Emperour, which did as friendly accept, as he fondly offerd. So Gentlemen, if any condemne my rashnesse for troubling your eares with so many vnlearned Pamphlets: I will straight shroud my selfe vnder the shadowe of your courtesies, and with Aphranius
lay the blame on you aswell for frendly reading them, as on my selfe for fondly penning them: Hoping though fond curious, or rather currish backbiters breathe out slaunderous speeches: yet the courteous Readers (whom I feare to offend) wil requite my trauell, at the least with silence: and in this hope I rest: wishing you health and happines.
TO THE RIGHT HO
norable George Clifford Earle of Cumber
land, Robert Greene wisheth increase
of honour and vertue.
The Rascians (right honorable) when by long gazing against the Sunne, they become halfe blinde, recouer their sightes by looking on the blacke Loade stone. Vnicornes being glutted with brousing on roots of Licquoris, sharpen their stomacks with crushing bitter grasse.
Alexander vouchsafed as well to smile at the croked picture of Vulcan, as to wonder at the curious counterfeite of Venus. The minde is sometimes delighted as much with small trifles as with sumptuous triumphs, and as wel pleased with hearing of Pans homely fancies, as of Hercules renowmed laboures.
Syllie Baucis could not serue Iupiter in a siluer plate, but in a woodden dish. Al that honour Esculapius, decke not his shrine with Iewels. Apollo giues Oracles as wel to the poore man for his mite, as to the rich man for his treasure. The stone Echites is not so much liked for the colour, as for vertue, and giftes are not to be measured by the worth, but by the will. Mison that vnskilfull Painter of Greece, aduentured to giue vnto Darius the shielde of Pallas, so roughlie shadowed, as he smiled more at the follie of the man, then at the imperfection of his arte. So I present vnto your honour the triumph of time, so rudelie finished, as I feare your honour wil rather frowne at my impudencie, then laugh at my ignorancie: But I hope my willing minde shal excuse my slender skill, and your honours curtesie shadowe my rashnes.
They which feare the biting of vipers doe carie in their hands the plumes of a Phœnix. Phydias drewe Vulcan sitting in a chaire of Iuory. Caesars Crow durst neuer cry, Aue
, but when she was pearked on the Capitoll. And I seeke to shroude this imperfect Pamphlet vnder your honours patronage, doubting the dint of such inuenomed vipers, as seeke with their slaunderous
slaunderous] ~ 1592; slaunderours 1588
reproches to carpe at al, being oftentims, most vnlearned of all: and assure my selfe, that your honours renowmed valure, and vertuous disposition shall be a sufficient defence to protect me from the Poysoned tongues of such scorning Sycophants, hoping that as Iupiter vouchsafed to lodge in Philemons thatched Cotage: and Phillip of Macedon, to take a bunche of grapes of a country pesant: so I hope your honour, measuring my worke by my will, and wayghing more the mind than the matter, will when you haue cast a glaunce at this toy, with Minerua, vnder your golden Target couer a deformed Owle. And in this hope I rest, wishing vnto you, and the vertuous Countesse your wife: such happy successe as your honours can desire, or I imagine.
Your Lordships most duetifully to com
The Historie of
Among al the Passions wherewith humane mindes are perplexed, there is none that so galleth with restlesse despight, as that infectious soare of Iealousie: for all other griefes are eyther to bee appeased with sensible perswasions, to be cured with wholesome counsel, to be relieved in want, or by tract of time to be worne out, (Iealousie only excepted) which is so sawsed with suspitious doubtes, and pinching mistrust, that whoso seekes by friendly counsaile to rase out this hellish passion, it foorthwith suspecteth that he geueth this aduise to couer his owne guiltinesse. Yea, who so is payned with this restlesse torment doubteth all, dystrusteth him-selfe, is alwayes frosen with feare, and fired with suspition, hauing that wherein consisteth all his ioy, to be the breeder of his miserie. Yea, it is such a heauy enemy to that holy estate of matrimony, sowing betweene the married couple
couple] ~ Wells
(1988); couples 1588
such deadly seedes of secret hatred, as Loue being once rased out by spightful distrust, there oft ensueth bloudy reuenge, as this ensuing Hystorie manifestly prooueth: wherein Pandosto
(furiously incensed by causelesse Iealousie) procured the death of his most louing and loyall wife, and his owne endlesse sorrow and misery.
In the Countrey of Bohemia there raygned a King called Pandosto, whose fortunate successe in warres against his foes, and bountifull curtesie towardes his friendes in peace, made him to be greatly feared and loued of all men. This Pandosto had to Wife a Ladie called Bellaria, by birth royall, learned by education, faire by nature, by vertues famous, so that it was hard to iudge whether her beautie, fortune, or vertue, wanne the greatest
These two lincked together in perfect loue
, led their liues with such fortunate content, that their Subiects greatly reioyced to see their quiet disposition.
They had not beene married long, but Fortune (willing to increase their happines) lent them a sonne, so adorned with the gifts of nature, as the perfection of the Childe greatly augmented the loue of the parentes, and the ioy of their commons: in so much that the Bohemians
, to shewe their inward ioyes by outwarde actions, made [tln 3032
] Bonefires and triumphs throughout all the Kingdome, appointing Iustes and Turneyes for the honour of their young Prince: whether resorted not only his Nobles, but also diuers Kings and Princes which were his neighbours, willing to shewe their friendship they ought to Pandosto
, and to win fame and glory by their prowesse and valour. Pandosto
, whose minde was fraught with princely liberality, entertayned the Kings, Princes, and noble men with such submisse curtesie, and magnifical bounty, that they all sawe how willing he was to gratifie their good wils, making a generall feast for his Subiects, which continued by the space of twentie dayes: all which time the Iustes and Turneys were kept to the great content both of the Lordes and Ladies there present. This solemne tryumph being once ended, the assembly taking their leaue of Pandosto
: the young sonne (who was called [see n. 3382
) was nursed vp in the house, to the great ioy and content of the parents. Fortune enuious of such happy successe, willing to shewe some signe of her inconstancie, turned her wheele, and darkned
their bright sun of prosperitie, with the mistie cloudes of mishap and misery
For it so happened that Egistus
King of Sycilia
, [tln 25–7
] who in his youth had bene brought vp with Pandosto
, desirous to shewe that [tln 27–33
] neither tracte of time, nor distance of place could diminish their former friendship, prouided a nauie of ships, and [tln 50
] sayled into Bohemia
to visite his old friend and companion, who hearing of his arriuall, went himselfe in person, and his wife Bellaria
, accompanied with a great traine of Lords and Ladies, to meet Egistus
and espying him, alighted from his horse, embraced him very louingly, protesting that nothing in the world could haue happened more acceptable to him then his comming, [tln 1238–40
] wishing his wife to welcome his olde friend and acquaintance: who (to shewe how she liked him whom her husband loued) inter-
tayned him with such familiar curtesie, as Egistus
perceiued himselfe to bee verie well welcome.
After they had thus saluted and embraced eche other, they mounted againe on horsbacke, and [tln 121–3
] rode toward the Citie, deuising and recounting, howe being children they had passed their youth in friendely pastimes:
where, by the meanes of the Citizens, Egistus
was receyued with triumphs and showes in such sort, that he maruelled how on so small a warning they coulde make such preparation.
Passing the streetes thus with such rare sightes, they rode on to the Pallace, where [tln 14–16
and his Sycilians
with such banqueting and sumptuous cheare, so royally, as they all had cause to commend his princely liberality, yea, the verie basest slaue that was knowne to come from Sycilia
was used with such curtesie, that Egistus
might easily perceiue how both hee and his were honored for his friendes sake.
(who in her time was the flower of curtesie)
curtesie)] ~ 1595; ~ , 1588
willing to show how unfaynedly shee looued her husband by his friends intertainement, used him likewise
so familiarly, that her countenance bewraied how her minde was affected towardes him: oftentimes comming her selfe into his bed chamber, to see that nothing should be amis to mislike him.
This honest familiarity increased dayly more and more betwixt them; for Bellaria
noting in Egistus
a princely and bountifull minde, adorned with sundrie and excellent qualities, and Egistus
, finding in her a vertuous and curteous disposition,
there grew such a secret vniting of their affections, that the one could not well be without the company of the other
: in so much that when Pandosto
was busied with such vrgent affaires, that hee could not bee present with his friend Egistus
, [tln 260
would walke with him into the Garden, where they two in priuat and pleasant deuises would passe away the time to both their contents.
This custome still continuing betwixt them, a certaine [tln 181–92
] melancholy passion entring the minde of Pandosto
, draue him into sundry and doubtfull thoughts.
First, he called to minde the beauty of his wife Bellaria
, the comelines and brauerie of his friend Egistus
, thinking that Loue was aboue all Lawes, and therefore to be staied with no Law: that it was hard to put fire and flaxe together without burning: that their open pleasures might breede his secrete displeasures. He considered with himselfe that Egistus
was a man, and must needes loue: that his wife was a woman,
and therfore subiect vnto loue, and that where fancy forced, friendship was of no force.
These and such like doubtfull thoughtes a long time smoothering in his stomacke, beganne at last to kindle in his minde a secret mistrust, which increased by suspition, grewe at last to a flaming Iealousie, that so tormented him as [tln 900
] he could take no rest. He then began to measure all their actions, and to misconstrue of their too priuate familiaritie, iudging that it was not for honest affection, but for disordinate fancy, so that hee began to watch them more narrowely, to see if hee could gette any true or certaine proofe to confirme his doubtfull suspition. While thus he noted their lookes and gestures, and suspected their thoughtes and meaninges, they two seely soules who doubted nothing of this his treacherous intent, frequented daily eache others companie, which draue him into such a franticke passion, that he beganne to beare a secret hate to Egistus
, and a lowring countenaunce to Bellaria
, [tln 227
] who marueiling at such vnaccustomed frowns, began to cast beeyond the Moone, and to enter into a thousand sundrie thoughtes
, which way she should offend her husband: but finding in her selfe a cleare conscience, ceassed to muse, vntil such time as she might find fit opportunitie to demaund the cause of his dumps.
In the meane time Pandostoes
minde was so farre charged with Iealousy, that he did no longer doubt, but was assured (as he thought) that his Friend Egistus
had entered a wrong pointe in his tables, and so had [tln 269–72
] played him false play: wherupon desirous to reuenge so great an iniury, he thought best to dissemble the grudge with a faire and friendly countenance: and so vnder the shape of a friend, to shew him the tricke of a foe.
Deuising with himself a long time how he might best put away Egistus
without suspition of treacherous murder, hee concluded at last to poyson him: which opinion pleasing his humour, he became resolute in his determination, and the better to bring the matter to passe he called vnto him [tln 446
] his cupbearer, with whom in secret he brake the matter: promising to him for the performance thereof, to geue him a thowsande crownes of yearely reuenues: his cupbearer eyther being of a good conscience, or willing for fashion sake, to deny such a bloudy request, began with great reasons to perswade Pandosto
from his determinate mischief: shewing him what an offence murther was to the Gods: how such vnnaturall actions did more displease the heauens, than
and that causeles crueltie did seldome or neuer escape without reuenge: he layd before his face, that Egistus
was his friend, [tln 461
] a king, and one that was come into his kingdome, to confirme a league of perpetuall amitie betwixt them, that he had and did shew him a most friendly countenaunce, how Egistus
was not onely honored of his owne people by obedience, but also loued of the Bohemians
for his curtesie.
And that if now he should without any iust or manifest cause, poyson him, it would not only be a great dishonor to his Maiesty, and a meanes to sow perpetuall enmitie betweene the Sycilians
and the Bohemians
, but also his owne subiectes would repine at such trecherous crueltie.
These and such like perswasions of [tln 410
(for so was his cupbearer called) [tln 371–432
] could no whit preuaile to disswade him from his deuilish enterprise, but remaining resolute in his determination, his furie so fiered with rage, as it could not be appeased with reason: he began with bitter taunts to take vp his man, and to lay before him two baytes: preferment, and death:
saying that if he would poyson Egistus
, he should [tln 459–60
] aduaunce him to high dignities: [tln 450–1
] if he refused to do it of an obstinate minde, no torture should be to great to requite his disobedience. Franion
seeing, that to perswade Pandosto
any more, was but to striue against the streame: [tln 433–52
] consented as soone as oportunity would giue him leaue to dispatch Egistus
remained somwhat satisfied, hoping now he should be fully reuenged of such mistrusted iniuries, intending also [tln 440–2
] assoone as Egistus
was dead, to giue his wife a sop of the same sawce, and so be rid of those which were the cause of his restles sorrow.
While thus he liued in this hope, Franion
beeing secret in his chamber, began to meditate with himselfe in these termes.
Ah Franion, treason is loued of many, but the traitor hated of all: vniust offences may for a time escape without danger, but neuer without reuenge, thou art seruant to a king, and must obey at commaund: yet Franion, against law and conscience, it is not good to resist a tyrant with armes, nor to please an vniust king with obedience. What shalt thou do? Folly refuseth
refuseth] ~ Wells
(1988); refused 1592
gold, and frensie preferment, wisedome seeketh after dignitie, and counsel looketh for gayne. Egistus
is a stranger, to thee, and Pandosto
thy soueraigne: thou hast little cause to respect the one, and oughtest to haue great care to obey the other. Thinke this Franion
, that a pound of gold is worth a tunne of lead, great gifts are little Gods, and preferment to a meane man, is a whetstone to courage: there is nothing sweeter than promotion, nor lighter than report: care not then though most count thee a traytor, so all cal thee rich. Dignitie (Franion
) aduaunceth thy posteritie, and euill report can hurt but thy selfe. Know this, where Eagles build, Faulcons may pray: where Lyons haunt, Foxes may steale. Kings are knowen to commaunde, seruaunts are blamelesse to consent: feare not thou then to lift at Egistus
shall beare the burthen. Yea but Franion
, conscience is a worme that euer biteth, but neuer ceaseth: that which is rubbed with the stone Galactites
will neuer be hot. Flesh dipped in the sea Ægeum
, will neuer be sweete: the hearbe Tragion
, being once bit with an Aspis
neuer groweth, and conscience once stayned with innocent bloud, is alwayes tyed to a guiltie remorse. Preferre thy content before riches, and a cleare mind before dignitie: so being poore thou shalt haue rich peace, or els rich, thou shalt enioy disquiet.
Franion hauing muttered out these or such like words, seeing either he must dye with a cleare minde, or liue with a spotted conscience: he was so [tln 455–66] combered with diuers cogitations that hee could take no rest, vntill at last he determined to breake the matter to Egistus, but fearing that the king should either suspect or heare of such matters, he concealed the deuise till oportunitie would permit him to reueale it. Lingring thus in doubtfull feare, in an euening he went to Egistus lodging, and desirous to breake with him of certaine affaires that touched the king, after all were commaunded out of the chamber: Franion made manifest the whole conspiracie, which Pandosto had deuised against him, desiring Egistus not to accompt him a traytor for bewraying his maisters counsell, but to thinke that he did it for conscience, hoping that although his maister inflamed with rage, or incensed by some sinister reportes, or slaunderous
speaches, had imagined such causelesse mischief: yet when time should pacifie his anger, and trie those talebearers but flattering Parasites, then he would count him as a faithfull seruaunt, that with such care had kept his maisters credit. Egistus
had not fully heard Franion
tell forth his tale, but [tln 574
] a quaking feare possessed all his limmes, thinking that there was some treason wrought, and that Franion
did but shadow his craft with these false colours:
wherefore he began to waxe in choler, and sayd that [tln 468–81
] he doubted not Pandosto
, sith he was his friend, and there had neuer as yet bene any breach of amitie: he had not sought to inuade his lands, to conspire with his enemies, to disswade his subiectes from their allegance: but in word and thought he rested his at all times: he knew not therfore any cause that should moue Pandosto
to seeke his death, but suspected it to be a compacted knauery of the Bohemians
, to bring the king and him at oddes. Franion
staying him in the midst of his talke, told him that to dally with Princes was with the swannes to sing agaynst their death, and that if the Bohemians
had intended any such secret mischief, it might haue bene better brought to passe then by reuealing the conspiracie: therefore his Maiestie did ill to misconstrue of his good meaning, sith his intent was to hinder treason, not to become a traytor and to confirme his premises, if it please his Maiestie to flee into Sycilia
for the safegard of his life, he would goe with him: and if then he found not such a practise to be pretended, let his imagined trecherie be repayed with most monstrous torments. Egistus
hearing the solemne protestation of Franion
: began to consider, that in loue and kingdomes, neither faith, nor law is to bee respected: doubting that Pandosto
thought by his death to destroy his men, and with speedy warre to inuade Sycilia
: these and such doubtes throughly weighed, he gaue great thankes to Franion
, promising if he might with life returne to Syracusa
, that he would create him a Duke in Sycilia
: crauing his counsell how he might escape out of the countrey. Franion
, who hauing [tln 565
] some small skill in Nauigation, was well acquainted with the Portes and Hauens, and knew euery daunger in the Sea, ioyning in counsell with the Maister of Egistus
Nauie, rigged all their
ships, and setting them a floate let them lye at anker, to be in the more readinesse when time and wind should serue.
Fortune although blind, yet by chance fauoring this iust cause, sent them [tln 582
] within 6. dayes a good gale of wind, which Franion
seeing fit for their purpose, to put Pandosto
Pandosto] ~ 1595; Pandasto 1592
out of suspition, the night before they should saile, he went to him and promised, that the next day he would put the deuise in practise, for he had got such a forcible poyson as the very smell thereof should procure sodaine death. Pandosto
Pandosto] ~ 1607; Pandasto 1592
was ioyfull to heare this good newes and thought euery houre a day till he might be glutted with bloudy reuenge, but his suite had but ill successe: for Egistus
fearing that delay might breede daunger, and willing that the grasse should not be cut from vnder his feete, taking [tln 285–8
] bagge and baggage with the helpe of Franion
, [tln 554–5
] conueyed himself and his men out of a posterne gate of the Citie so secretly, and speedely, that without any suspition they got to the sea shoare, where, with many a bitter curse taking their leaue of Bohemia
, they went aboord, weighing their Ancres: and hoysting sayle, they passed as fast as winde and sea would permit towardes Sycilia
being a ioyfull man, that he had safely past such trecherous perils.
But as they were quietly floating
floating] ~ 1607; flouting 1592
on the sea, so Pandosto
and his Citizens were in an vprore: for seeing that the Sycilians
without taking their leaue were fled away by night, the Bohemians
feared some treason, and [tln 628–32
] the king thought that without question his suspition was true, seeing his cup-bearer had bewrayed the summe of his secret pretence:
whereupon [tln 643–9
] he began to imagine, that Franion
and his wife Bellaria
had conspired with Egistus
, and that the feruent affection she bare him, was the onely meanes of his secret departure, in so much that incensed with rage, he commaunded that his wife should be carried to straight prison, untill they heard further of his pleasure.
The guarde vnwilling to lay their hands on such a vertuous Princesse, and yet fearing the kings furie, went very sorrowfully to fulfill their charge, [tln 583
] comming to the Queenes lodging, they found her playing with her young sonne Garinter
, vnto whom with teares doing the message: Bellaria
astonished at such a hard censure, and finding her cleare conscience a sure aduocate to pleade in her case, went to the prison most willingly: where [tln 715–19
] with sighs and teares,
she past away the time till she might come to her triall.
But Pandosto, whose reason was suppressed with rage, and whose vnbridled folly was incensed with furie: seeing Franion had bewrayed his secrets, and that Egistus might wel be rayled on, but not reuenged: [tln 901–8] determined to wreake all his wrath on poore Bellaria, he therfore caused a generall Proclamation to be made through all his Realme, that the Queene and Egistus had by the helpe of Franion not only committed most incestuous adulterie, but also had conspired the Kings death: Wherupon the Traitor Franion was fled away with Egistus, and Bellaria was most iustly imprisoned. This Proclamation being once [tln 1280] blazed through the countrey [tln 1164–5], although the vertuous disposition of the Queene did halfe discredit the contents: yet [tln 583] the sodaine and speedie passage of Egistus, and the secret departure of Franion induced them (the circumstances throughly considered) to thinke that both the Proclamation was true, and the King greatly iniured: yet [tln 734–71] they pitied her case, as sorowful that so good a Ladie should be crossed with such aduerse Fortune. But the King, whose restlesse rage would admit no pity, thought that although he might sufficiently requite his wiues falshood with the bitter plague of [tln 648] pinching penurie, yet his minde should neuer be glutted with reuenge, till he might haue fit time and oportunitie to repay the treacherie of
of] ~ 1607; om. 1592 Egistus
with a fatall iniurie.
But a curst Cow hath oft times short hornes, and a willing mind, but a weake arme: for Pandosto
although he felt, that reuenge was a spurre to warre, and that enuie alwayes proffereth steele, yet he saw, that Egistus
was not onely of great puissance, and prowesse to withstand him, but [tln 921–2
] had also many Kings of his alliance to ayde him, if neede should serue: for [tln 1299
] he married the Emperours
Emperours] ~ 1595; Emperous 1592
daughter of Russia
These and such like considerations something daunted Pandosto
his courage, so, that he was content rather to put vp a manifest iniurie with peace, than hunt after reuenge with dishonor and losse: determining since Egistus
had escaped scotfree, that Bellaria
should pay for all at an vnreasonable price.
Remaining thus resolute in this determination, Bellaria continuing still in prison, and hearing the contents of the Proclamation, knowing that her mind was neuer touched with
such affection, nor that Egistus
had euer offered her such discurtesie, would gladly haue come to her answer, that both she might haue knowne her vniust accusers, and cleared her selfe of that guiltlesse crime.
But Pandosto was so enflamed with rage, and infected with Iealousie as he would not vouchsafe to heare her nor admit any iust excuse, so that she was faine to make a vertue of her neede, and with patience to beare these heauie iniuries. As thus she lay crossed with calamities (a great cause to increase her griefe) she found her selfe quicke with childe: which assoone as she felt stir in her bodie, she burst foorth into bitter teares, exclaiming against fortune in these tearmes.
Alas Bellaria, how infortunate art thou because fortunat, better hadst thou bene borne a begger than a Prince: so shouldest thou haue bridled Fortune with want, where now she sporteth her selfe with thy plentie. Ah happy life where poore thoughts, and meane desires liue in secure content, not fearing Fortune because too low for
low for] ~ Collier
(1843); low. For 1592
fortune, thou seest now Bellaria
, that care is a companion to honor, not to pouertie, that high Cædars
are frushed [broken, snapped] with tempests, when low shrubs are not toucht with the wind: precious Diamonds are cut with the file, when despised peables lie safe in the sand: Delphos
is sought to by Princes, not beggers: and Fortunes altars smoke with Kings presents, not with poore mens gifts. Happy are such Bellaria
, that curse Fortune for contempt, not feare, and may wish they were, not sorrow they haue bene. Thou art a Princesse, Bellaria
, and yet a prisoner, borne to the one by discent, assigned to the other by despite, accused without cause, and therefore oughtest to die without care: for patience is a shield against Fortune, and a guiltlesse mind yeeldeth not to sorow. Ah, but Infamie galleth vnto death, and liueth after death: Report is plumed with Times feathers, and Enuie oftentimes soundeth Fames trumpet: thy suspected adulterie shall fly in the aire, and thy knowne vertues shall ly hid in the earth: one Moale stayneth a whole face, and what is once spotted with Infamy can hardly be worne out with time. Die then Bellaria
die: for if the Gods should say thou art guiltlesse,
yet enuie would heare the Gods, but neuer beleeue the Gods. Ah haplesse wretch, cease these tearmes: desperat thoughts are fit for them that feare shame, not for such as hope for credite. Pandosto
hath darkned thy fame, but shal neuer discredit thy vertues. Suspition may enter a false action, but proofe shall neuer put in his plea: care not then for enuie, sith report hath a blister on her tongue: and let sorrow bite them which offend, not touch thee that art faultlesse. But alas poore soule, howe canst thou but sorrow? Thou art with child, and by him that in steed of kind pitie pincheth thee in cold prison. And with that such gasping sighes so stopped her breath, that she could not vtter any mo words, but wringing her hands, and gushing foorth streames of teares, she passed away the time with bitter complaints.
The Iaylor pitying these her heauy passions, thinking that if the king knew she were with child, he would somwhat appease his furie, and release her from prison went in all hast, and certified Pandosto what the effect of Bellarias complaint was: who no sooner heard the Iaylour say she was with child, but as one possessed with a phrensie, he rose vp in a rage, swearing that she and the bastard brat she was withal, should dy, if the gods themselues said no: thinking assuredly by computation of time, that Egistus, and not he, was father to the child. This suspitious thought galled a fresh this halfe healed sore, in so much as he could take no rest, vntil he might mitigate his choler with a iust reuenge, which happened presently after. For Bellaria was brought to bed of a faire and beautiful daughter, which no sooner Pandosto heard, but [tln 1016–17, 1062] he determined that both Bellaria and the yong infant should be burnt with fire. [tln 1077–83] His Nobles hearing of the Kings cruel sentence, sought by perswasions to diuert him from this bloody determination: [tln 980] laying before his face the innocencie of the child, and the vertuous disposition of his wife, how she had continually loued and honored him so tenderly, that without due proof he could not, nor ought not to appeach her of that crime. And if she had faulted, yet it were more honorable to pardon with mercy, then to punish with extremity, and more Kingly, to be commended of pity, than accused of [tln 1293] rigor. And as
for the child, if he should punish it for the mothers offence, it were to striue against nature and iustice: and that vnnaturall actions do more offend the Gods then men: how causelesse crueltie, nor innocent bloud neuer scapes without reuenge. These and such like reasons could not appease his rage, but he rested resolute in this, that Bellaria
being an adulteresse, the child was a bastard, and he would not suffer that such an infamous brat should call him father. [tln 1084–1115
] Yet at last (seeing his noble men were importunate vpon him) he was content to spare the childs life, and yet to put it to a worser death.
For he found out this deuise, that [tln 1111–15
] seeing (as he thought) it came by Fortune, so he would commit it to the charge of Fortune, and therfore he caused a little cock-boate to be prouided, wherein he meant to put the babe, and then send it to the mercie of the seas, and the destinies.
From this, his Peeres in no wise could persuade him, but that he sent presently
presently] ~ 1595; presenty 1592
two of his Gard to fetch the child, who being come to the prison, and with weeping teares recounting their maisters message: Bellaria
no sooner heard the rigorous resolution of her mercilesse husband, but she fell againe downe in a sound, so that all thought she had bin dead, yet at last being come to her selfe, she cried and scriched out in this wise.
Alas sweete infortunate babe, scarse borne before enuied by fortune: would the day of thy birth had bin the tearme of thy life, then shouldest thou haue made an end to care, and preuented thy fathers rigor. Thy faults cannot yet deserue such hatefull reuenge, thy dayes are too short for so sharpe a doome, but thy vntimely death must pay thy mothers debtes, and her guiltlesse crime must be thy gastly curse. And shalt thou sweete babe be committed to fortune? When thou art alreadie spighted by fortune: shall the seas be thy harbour, and the hard boate thy cradle? Shall thy tender mouth in steede of sweete kisses, be nipped with bitter stormes? Shalt thou haue [tln 1496–7] the whistling winds for thy Lullabie, and the salt sea fome in steed of [tln 1277–80] sweet milke? Alas, what destinies would assigne such hard hap? What father would be so cruell? Or what gods wil not reuenge such rigor? Let me kisse thy lips (sweet infant) and wet thy tender cheekes with my teares, and put this chaine
about thy litle necke, that if fortune saue thee, it may helpe to succour thee. Thus, since thou must go to surge in the gastfull seas, with a sorrowfull kisse I bid thee farewell, and I pray the Gods thou mayst fare well.
Such, and so great was her griefe, that her vital spirits being suppressed with sorrow, she fell downe in a traunce, hauing her sences so sotted with care, that after she was reuiued, yet she lost her memorie, and lay for a great time without mouing as one in a traunce. The gard left her in this perplexitie, and caried the child to the king, who quite
deuoide of pity, commanded that without delay it should bee put in the boat, hauing neither saile nor other to guid it, and so to bee carried into the midst of the sea, and there left to the wind and waue as [tln 1115
] the destinies please to appoint. The very shipmen seeing the sweete countenance of the yong babe, began to accuse the King of rigor, and to pity the childs hard fortune: but feare constrayned them to that which their nature did abhorre: so that they placed it in one of the ends of the boat, and with a few greene bows made a homely cabben to shroud it as they could from wind and weather: hauing thus trimmed the boat they tied it to a ship, and so haled it into the mayne Sea, and then cut in sunder the coarde, which they had no sooner done, but there arose a mighty tempest, which tossed the little Boate so vehemently in the waues, that the shipmen thought it coulde not continue longe without sincking, yea the storme grewe so great, that with much labour and perill they got to the shoare. But leauing the Childe to her fortunes. Againe to Pandosto
, who not yet glutted with sufficient reuenge, deuised which way he should best increase his Wiues calamitie.
But first assembling his Nobles and Counsellors, [tln 1173
] hee called her for the more reproch into open Court, where it was obiected against her, that she had committed adulterie with Egistus
, and conspired with Franion
to poyson Pandosto
her husband, but [tln 1191–5
] their pretence being partely spyed, shee counselled them to flie away by night for their better safety. Bellaria
, who standing like a prisoner at the Barre, feeling in her selfe a cleare Conscience to withstand her false accusers: seeing that no lesse then death could pacifie her husbands wrath, waxed bolde, and desired that she might haue Lawe and Iustice, for mercy shee neyther craued nor hoped for, and that those periured wretches, which had falsly accused her to the King, might be brought before her face, to giue in euidence. But Pandosto
, whose rage and Iealousie was such, as no reason, nor equitie could appease: tolde her, that for her accusers they were of such credite, as their wordes were sufficient witnesse, and that the sodaine and secret flight of Egistus
, and Franion
confirmed that which they had confessed:
and as for her, it was her parte to deny such a monstrus crime, and to be impudent in forswearing the [tln 1263
] fact, since [tln 1229–32
] shee had past all shame in committing the fault: but her stale countenaunce should stand for no coyne, for as the Bastard which
she bare was serued, so she should with some cruell death be requited. Bellaria
no whit dismayed with this rough reply, [tln 1196–1228
] tolde her Husband Pandosto
, that he spake vpon choller, and not conscience: for [tln 1207–9
] her vertuous life had beene euer such, as no spot of suspition could euer staine. And if she had borne a frendly countenaunce
countenaunce] ~ 1592; countedaunce 1588
, it was in respect he was his friende, and not for any lusting affection: therefore if she were condemned without any further proofe, [tln 1293
] it was rigour, and not Law.
The noble men which sate in iudgement, said that Bellaria
spake reason, and intreated the king that the accusers might be openly examined, and sworne, and if then the euidence were such, as the Iury might finde her guilty (for seeing she was a Prince,
Prince,] ~ 1629; ~ ) 1588
she ought to be tryed by her peeres)
peeres)] ~ 1607; ~ , 1588
then let her haue such punishment as the extremitie of the Law will assigne to such malefactors. The king presently made answere, that in this case he might, and would dispence with the Law, and that the Iury being once panneld, they should take his word for sufficient euidence, otherwise he would make the proudest of them repent it.
The noble men seeing the king in choler were all whist, but Bellaria
, whose life then hung in the ballaunce, [tln 1288–90
] fearing more perpetuall infamie, then momentarie death, tolde the king, if his furie might stand for a Law, that it were vaine to haue the Iury yeeld their verdit, and therefore she fell downe vpon her knees, and desired the king that for the loue he bare
bare] ~ 1592; hare 1588
to his young sonne Garinter
, whome she brought into the world, that hee woulde graunt her [tln 583
] a request, which was this, that it would please his maiestie to send sixe of his noble men whome he best trusted, to the [tln 1147
] Isle of Delphos
, there to enquire of the Oracle of Apollo
, whether she had committed adultery with Egistus
, or conspired to poyson him with Franion
: and if the God Apollo
, who by his deuine essence knew al secrets, gaue answere that she was guiltie, she were content to suffer any torment, were it neuer so terrible. [tln 1293–8
] The request was so reasonable, that Pandosto
could not for shame deny it, vnlesse he woulde bee counted of all his subiects more wilfull then wise, he therefore agreed, that with as much speede as might be there should be certaine Embassadores dispatched to the Ile of Delphos
: and in the meane season [tln 811–14
he] ~ 1592; be 1588
commanded that his wife should be kept in close prison. Bellaria
hauing obtained this graunt, was now more
carefull for her little babe that floated on the Seas, then sorrowfull for her owne mishap. For of that she doubted: of her selfe shee was assured, knowing if Apollo
should giue Oracle according to the thoughts of the hart, yet the sentence should goe one her side, such was the clearenes of her minde in this case. But Pandosto
(whose suspitious head still remained in one song) chose out six of his Nobility, whom hee knew were scarse indifferent men in the Queenes behalfe, and prouiding all things fit for their iourney, sent them to Delphos
: they willing to fulfill the Kinges commaund, and desirous to see the situation and custome of the Iland, dispatched their affaires with as much speede as might be, and embarked themselues to this voyage, which (the wind and weather seruing fit for their purpose) was soone ended.
For [tln 1133
] within three weekes they arriued at Delphos
, where they were no sooner set on lande, but with great deuotion they went to the Temple of Apollo
, and [tln 1152–8
] there offring sacrifice to the GOD, and giftes to the Priest, as the custome was, they humbly craued an aunswere of their demaund: they had not long kneeled at the Altar, but Apollo
with a loude voice saide: Bohemians
, what you finde behinde the Alter take, and depart. They forthwith obeying the Oracle founde a scroule of parchment, wherein was written these words in letters of Golde.
Suspition is no proofe: Iealousie is an vnequall iudge: Bellaria is chast: Egistus blameless: Franion a true subiect: Pandosto treacherous: his babe an innocent, and the King shal liue without an heire: if [tln 1313–16, 3378] that which is lost be not founde.
As soone as they had taken out this scroule, the Priest of the God commaunded them that [tln 1168–70, 1304–10] they should not presume to read it, before they came in the presence of Pandosto: vnlesse they would incurre the displeasure of Apollo. The Bohemian Lords carefully obeying his commaund, taking their leaue of the Priest, with great reuerence departed out of the Temple, and went to their ships, and assoone as wind would permit them, sailed toward
, whither in short time they safely arriued, and with great tryumph issuing out of their Ships, went to the Kinges pallace, whom they found in his chamber accompanied with other Noble men: Pandosto
no sooner saw them, but with a merrie countenaunce he welcomed them home, asking what newes: they tolde his Maiestie that they had receiued an aunswere of the God written in a scroule, but with this charge, that they should not read the contents before they came in the presence of the King, and with that they deliuered him the parchment: but his Noble men intreated him that sith therein was contayned either the safetie of his Wiues life, and honesty, or her death, and perpetuall infamy, that he would haue his Nobles and Commons assembled in the iudgement Hall, where the Queene brought in as prysoner, should heare the contents: if shee were found guilty by the Oracle of the God, then all should haue cause to thinke his rigour proceeded of due desert: if her Grace were found faultlesse, then shee should bee cleared before all, sith she had bene accused openly. This pleased the King so, that he appointed the day, and assembled al his Lords and Commons, and [tln 1173
] caused the Queene to be brought in before the Iudgement seate, commaunding that the inditement shoulde bee read, wherein she was accused of [tln 1187
] adultery with Egistus
, and of conspiracy with Franion
hearing the contentes, was no whit astonished, but made this chearefull aunswer.
[tln 1202–6] If the deuine powers bee priuy to humane actions (as no doubt they are) I hope my patience shall make fortune blushe, and my vnspotted life shall staine spightfull
spightfull] ~ 1607; spightfully 1588
discredit. For although lying Report hath sought to appeach mine honor, and Suspition hath intended to soyle my credit with infamie:
yet where Vertue keepeth the Forte, Report and suspition may assayle, but neuer sack: [tln 1219–21
] how I haue led my life before Egistus
comming, I appeale Pandosto
to the Gods, and to thy conscience.
What hath passed betwixt him and me, the Gods onely know, and I hope will presently reueale: [tln 1238–43
] that I loued Egistus
I can not denie, that I honored him I shame not to confesse: to the one I was forced by his vertues: to the other for his dignities. But as touching lasciuious lust, I say Egistus
is honest, and hope my selfe to be found without spot:
, I can neither accuse him, nor excuse him: for [tln 1254–7
] I was not
priuie to his departure, and that this is true which I haue heere rehearsed, [tln 1294
] I referre my self to the deuine Oracle.
Bellaria had no sooner sayd, but the King commaunded that one of his Dukes should reade the contentes of the scroule: which after the commons had heard, they gaue a great showt, reioysing and clapping their hands that the Queene was cleare of that false accusation: but [cf. the contrasting tln 1321–2] the King whose conscience was a witnesse against him of his witlesse furie, and false suspected Iealousie, was so ashamed of his rashe folly, that he intreated his nobles to perswade Bellaria to forgiue, and forget these iniuries: promising not onely to shew himselfe a loyall and louing husband, but also to reconcile himselfe to Egistus, and Franion: reuealing then before them all the cause of their secrete flighte, and how treacherously hee thought to haue practised his death, [cf. tln 1347–8] if the good minde of his Cupbearer had not preuented his purpose. As thus he was relating the whole matter, [tln 1326–7] there was worde brought him that his young sonne Garinter was sodainly dead, which newes so soone as Bellaria heard, surcharged before with
with] ~ 1595; whith 1588
extreame ioy, and now suppressed with heauie sorrowe, her vitall spirites were so stopped, that [tln 1332–3
] she fell downe presently dead, and could be neuer reuiued.
This sodaine sight so appalled the Kinges Sences, that he sanck from his seate in a sound so as he was fayne to be carried by his nobles to his Pallace, where hee lay by the space of three dayes without speache: his commons were as men in dispaire, so diuersely distressed: there was nothing but mourning and lamentation to be heard throughout al Bohemia
: their young Prince dead, their vertuous Queene bereaued of her life, and their King and Soueraigne in great hazard: this tragicall discourse of fortune so daunted them, as [tln 938–41
] they went like shadowes, not men: yet somewhat to comfort their heauie hearts, they heard that Pandosto
was come to himselfe, and had recouered his speache, who as in a fury brayed out these bitter speaches.
[tln 1366–85] O miserable Pandosto, what surer witnesse then conscience? What thoughts more sower then suspition? What plague more bad then Iealousie? Vnnaturall actions offend the Gods, more than men, and causelesse crueltie neuer scapes without re-
uenge: I haue committed such a bloudy fact, as repent I may, but recall I cannot. Ah Iealousie, a hell to the minde, and a horror to the conscience, suppressing reason, and inciting rage: a worse passion then phrensie, a greater plague than madnesse. Are the Gods iust? Then let them reuenge such brutishe crueltie: my innocent Babe I haue drowned in the Seas: my louing wife I haue slaine with slaunderous suspition: my trusty friend I haue sought to betray, and yet the Gods are slacke to plague such offences. Ah vniust Apollo
is the man that hath committed the faulte: why should Garinter
, seely childe, abide the paine? Well sith the Gods meane to prolong my dayes, to increase my dolour, I will offer my guiltie bloud a sacrifice to those sackles soules, whose liues are lost by my rigorous folly.
And with that he reached at a Rapier, to haue murdered himselfe, but his Peeres being present, stayed him from such a bloudy acte: perswading him to think, that the Common-wealth consisted on his safetie, and that those sheepe could not but perish, that wanted a sheepheard: wishing, that if hee would not liue for himselfe, yet he should haue care of his subiects, and to put such fancies out of his minde, sith [tln 1413–14
] in sores past help, salues doe not heale, but hurt: and in thinges past cure, care is a corrasiue: with these and such like perswasions the Kinge was ouercome, and began somewhat to quiet his minde: so that assoone as hee could goe abroad, hee caused his wife to bee embalmed, and wrapt in lead [tln 1428
] with her young sonne Garinter
: erecting a rich and famous Sepulchre, wherein hee intombed them both, making such sollemne obsequies at her funeral, as al Bohemia
might perceiue he did greatly repent him of his forepassed folly: [tln 1428–30
] causing this Epitaph to be ingrauen on her Tombe in letters of Golde:
Here lyes entombde Bellaria faire,
Falsly accused to be vnchaste:
Cleared by Apollos sacred doome,
Yet slaine by Iealousie at last.
What ere thou be, that passest by,
Cursse him that causde this Queene to die.
This Epitaph being ingrauen, [tln 1430–5
would once a day repaire to the Tombe, and there with watry plaintes bewaile his misfortune: coueting no other companion but sorrowe, nor no other harmonie, but repentance. But [tln 1596–8
] leauing him to his dolorous passions, at last let vs come to shewe the tragicall discourse of the young infant.
Who being tossed with Winde, and Waue, floated two whole daies without succour, readie at euery puffe to bee drowned in the Sea, till at last [tln 1443–5, 1491, 1525–36] the Tempest ceassed, and the little boate was driuen with the tyde [tln 1437, 1440] into the Coast of Sycilia, where sticking vppon the sandes, it rested. [tln 1486] Fortune minding to be wanton, willing to shewe that as she hath wrinckles on her browes: so shee hath dimples in her cheekes: thought after so many sower lookes, to lend a fayned smile, and after a puffing storme, to bring a pretty calme: shee began thus to dally. It fortuned a poore mercenary Sheepheard, that dwelled in Sycilia, who got his liuing by other mens flockes, missed [tln 1507] one of his sheepe, and thinking it had strayed into the couert, that was hard by, sought very diligently to find that which he could not see, fearing either that [tln 1508] the Wolues, or Eagles had vndone him (for hee was so poore, as a sheepe was halfe his substaunce) wandered downe toward the Sea cliffes, to see if perchaunce the sheepe was browsing on [tln 1509–10] the sea Iuy, whereon they greatly doe feede, but not finding her there, as he was ready to returne to his flocke, hee heard a childe crie: but knowing there was no house nere, he thought he had mistaken the sound, and that it was the bleatyng of his Sheepe. Wherefore looking more narrowely, as he cast his eye to the Sea, he spyed a little boate, from whence as he attentiuely listened, he might heare the cry to come: standing a good while in a maze, at last he went to the shoare, and wading to the boate, as he looked in, he saw the little babe lying al alone, ready to die for hunger and colde, wrapped in a Mantle of Scarlet, richely imbrodered with Golde, and hauing a chayne about the necke. The Sheepeheard, who before had neuer seene so faire a Babe, nor so [tln 3043] riche Iewels, [tln 1512] thought assuredly, that it was some little God, and began with great deuocion to knock on his breast. The Babe, who wrythed with the head, to seeke for the pap, began againe to cry a fresh, whereby the poore man knew that it
was a Childe, which by some sinister meanes was driuen thither by distresse of weather: maruailing how such a seely infant, which by the Mantle, and the Chayne, could not [tln 2630
] be but borne of Noble Parentage, should be so hardly crossed with deadly mishap.
The poore sheepheard perplexed thus with diuers thoughts, tooke pity of the childe, and determined with himselfe to carry it to the King, that there it might be brought vp, according to the worthinesse of birth: for his ability coulde not afforde to foster it, though his good minde was willing to further it. Taking therefore the Chylde in his armes, as he foulded the mantle together, the better to defend it from colde, there fell downe at his foote a very faire and riche purse, wherein he founde [tln 1560–1
] a great summe of golde: which sight so reuiued the shepheards spirits, as he was greatly rauished with ioy, and daunted with feare: Ioyfull to see such a summe in his power, and feareful if it should be knowne, that it might breede his further daunger. [tln 455–66
Necessitie wisht him at the least, to retaine the Golde, though he would not keepe the childe: the simplicity of
of] ~ 1592; if 1588
his conscience feared him from such deceiptfull briberie. Thus was the poore manne perplexed with a doubtfull Dilemma
, vntil at the last the couetousnesse of the coyne ouercame him: for what will not the greedy desire of Golde cause a man to doe? So that he was resolued in himselfe to foster the child, and with the summe to relieue his want:
resting thus resolute in this point, he left seeking of his sheepe, and as couertly, and secretly as he coulde, went by a by-way to his house, least any of his neighbours should perceaue his carriage: assoone as he was got home, entring in at the doore, the childe began to crie, which his wife hearing, and seeing her husband with a yong babe in armes, began to bee somewhat ielousse, yet marueiling that her husband should be so wanton abroad, sith he was so quiet at home: but as women are naturally giuen to beleeue the worste, so his wife thinking it was some bastard: beganne to crow against her goodman, and taking vp a cudgel (for the most maister went breechles) sware solemnly that shee would make clubs trumps, if hee brought any bastard brat within her dores.
The goodman seeing his wife in her maiestie with her mace in her hand, thought it was time to bowe for feare of blowes, and desired her to be quiet, for there was non such matter: but if she could holde her peace, they were [tln 1559
] made for euer: and with
that he told her the whole matter, how he had found the childe in a little boat, without any succour, wrapped in that costly mantle, and hauing that rich chaine about the neck:
but at last when he shewed her the purse full of gold, she began to simper something sweetely, and taking her husband about the neck, kissed him after her homely fashion: saying that she hoped God had seene their want, and now ment to relieeue their pouerty, and seeing they could get no children, had sent them this little babe to be their heire. Take heede in any case (quoth the shepherd) that you be secret, and blabbe it not out when you meete with your gossippes, for if you doe, we are like not only to loose the Golde and Iewels, but our other goodes and liues. Tush (quoth his wife) profit is a good hatch before the doore: feare not, I haue other things to talke of then of this: but I pray you let vs lay vp the money surely, and the Iewels, least by any mishap it be spied. After that they had set all things in order, the shepheard went to his sheepe with a merry note, and the good wife learned to sing lullaby at home with her yong babe, wrapping it in a homely blanket in sted of a rich mantle: nourishing it so clenly and carefully as it began to be a iolly girle, in so much that they began both of them to be very fond of it, seeing, as it waxed in age, so it increased in beauty. The shepheard euery night at his comming home, would sing and daunce it on his knee, and prattle, that in a short time it began to speake and call him Dad, and her Mam: at last when it grew to ripe yeeres, that it was about seuen yeares olde, the shepheard left keeping of other mens sheepe, and with the money he found in the purse, he bought him the lease of a pretty farme, and got a smal flocke of sheepe, which when Fawnia
(for so they named the child) came to the age of ten yeres, hee set her to keepe, and shee with such diligence performed her charge as the sheepe prospered marueilously vnder her hand. Fawnia
had ben her father, and [tln 3388
her mother, (for so was the shepheard and his wife called) and
and] ~ 1609; om. 1588
honoured and obeyed them with such reuerence, that all the neighbours praised the duetifull obedience of the child.
grewe in short time to bee a man of some wealth, and credite: for fortune so fauoured him in hauing no charge but Fawnia
that he began to purchase land, intending after his death to
death to] ~ 1592; 1588 damaged
giue it to his daughter: so that diuerse rich farmers sonnes came as woers to his house:
was something clenly attired, beeing of such singular beautie and excellent witte, that whoso sawe her, would haue thought shee had bene some heauenly nymph, and not a mortal creature: in so much, that when she came to the age of [tln 1585
] sixteene yeeres, shee so increased with exquisite perfection both of body and minde, as [tln 1976–8
] her natural disposition did bewray that she was borne of some high parentage:
but the people thinking she was daughter to the shephard Porrus
; rested only amazed at hir beauty and wit: yea she won such fauour and commendations in euery mans eye, as her beautie was not onely praysed in the countrey, but also spoken of in the Court: yet such was her submisse modestie, that although her praise daily increased, her mind was no whit puffed vp with pride, but humbled her selfe as became a country mayde and the daughter of a poore sheepheard.
Euery day she went forth with her sheepe to the field, keeping them with such care and diligence, as al men thought she was verie painfull, defending her face from the heat of the sunne with no other vale, but with a garland made of bowes and flowers: which atire became her so gallantly, as [tln 1799
] shee seemed to bee the Goddesse Flora
her selfe for Beauty. Fortune, who al this while had shewed a frendly face, began now to turne her back, and to shewe a lowring countenance, intending as she had giuen Fawnia
a slender checke, so she woulde giue her a harder mate: to bring which to passe, she layd her traine on this wise. Egistus
had but one only son called Dorastus
, about the age of twenty yeeres: a Prince so decked and adorned with the gifts of nature: so fraught with beauty and vertuous qualities, as not onely his father ioyed to haue so good a sonne, and al his commons reioyed that God had lent them such [tln 1806
] a noble Prince to succeede in the Kingdom. Egistus
placing all his ioy in the perfection of his sonne: seeing that hee was now mariage-able, sent Embassadors to the King of Denmarke
, to intreate a mariage betweene him and his daughter, who willingly consenting, made answer, that the next spring, if it please Egistus
with his sonne to come into Denmarke
, hee doubted
not, but they shoulde agree vpon reasonable conditions. Egistus
resting satisfied with this friendly answer, thought conuenient in the meane time to breake with his sonne: finding therfore on a day fit oportunity he spake to him in these fatherly tearmes.
Dorastus, thy youth warneth me to preuent the worst, and mine age to prouide the best. Oportunities neglected, are signes of folly: actions measured by time, are seldome bitten with repentance: thou art young, and I olde: age hath taught me that, which thy youth cannot yet conceiue.
I therefore will counsell thee as a father, hoping thou wilt obey as a childe. Thou seest my white hayres are blossomes for the graue, and thy freshe colour fruite for time and fortune, so that it behooueth me to thinke how to dye, and for thee to care how to liue. My crowne I must leaue by death, and thou enioy my Kingdome by succession, wherein I hope thy vertue and prowesse shall bee such, as though my subiectes want my person, yet they shall see in thee my perfection. That nothing either may faile to satisfie thy minde, or increase thy dignities: the onely care I haue, is to see thee well marryed before I die, and thou become olde.
Dorastus who from his infancy, delighted rather to die with Mars in the Fielde, then to dally with Venus in the Chamber: fearing to displease his father, and yet not willing to be wed, made him this reuerent answere.
Sir, there is no greater bond than duetie, nor no straiter law then nature: disobedience in youth is often galled with despight in age. The commaund of the father ought to be a constraint to the childe: so parentes willes are laws, so they passe not all lawes: may it please your Grace therefore to appoint whome I shall loue, rather then by deniall I should be appeached of disobedience: I rest content to loue, though it bee the only thing I hate.
Egistus hearing his sonne to flie so farre from the marke, began to be somewhat chollericke, and therefore made him his hasty aunswere.
canst thou not loue? Commeth this cynicall passion of prone desires, or peeuish frowardnesse?
frowardnesse?] ~ 1607; ~ . 1588
What doest thou thinke thy selfe to good for all, or none good inough for thee?
thee?] ~ 1607; ~ . 1588
I tell thee, Dorastus
, there is nothing sweeter then youth, nor swifter decreasing, while it is increasing. Time past with folly may bee repented, but not recalled. If thou marrie in age, thy wiues freshe couloures will breede in thee dead thoughtes and suspition, and thy white hayres her lothesomnesse and sorrowe. For Venus
affections are not fed with Kingdomes, or treasures, but with youthfull conceits and sweete amours. Vulcan
was allotted to shake the tree, but Mars
allowed to reape the fruit. Yeelde Dorastus
to thy Fathers perswasions, which may preuent thy perils. I haue chosen thee a Wife, faire by nature, royall by birth, by vertues famous, learned by education, and rich by possessions, so that it is hard to iudge whether her bounty, or fortune, her beauty, or vertue, bee of greater force: I meane, Dorastus
Daughter and heire to the King of Denmarke
Egistus pausing here a while, looking when his son should make him answere, and seeing that he stoode still as one in a trance, he shooke him vp thus sharply.
Well Dorastus take heede, the tree Alpya wasteth not with fire, but withereth with the dewe: that which loue nourisheth not, perisheth with hate: if thou like Euphania, thou breedest my content, and in louing her thou shalt haue my loue, otherwise; and with that hee flung from his sonne in a rage, leauing him a sorrowfull man, in that he had by deniall displeased his Father, and halfe angrie with him selfe that hee coulde not yeelde to that passion, whereto both reason and his Father perswaded him: but see how fortune is plumed with times feathers, and how shee can minister strange causes to breede straunge effectes.
It happened not long after this, that there was [tln 1795] a meeting of all the Farmers Daughters in Sycilia, whither Fawnia was also bidden as the [tln 1709, 1802, 1873] mistres of the feast, who hauing attired
her selfe [tln 1798–9
] in her best garments, went among the rest of her companions to the merry meeting: there spending the day in such homely pastimes as shepheards vse.
As the euening grew on, and their sportes ceased, ech taking their leaue at other, Fawnia
desiring one of her companions to beare her companie, went home by the flocke, to see if they were well folded, and as they returned, it fortuned that Dorastus
(who all that daye [tln 1813–15
] had bene hawking, and kilde store of game) incountred by the way these two mayds, and casting his eye sodenly on Fawnia
, he was halfe afraid, fearing that with Acteon
he had seene Diana
: for hee thought such exquisite perfection could not be founde in any mortall creature.
As thus he stoode in a maze, one of his Pages told him, that the maide with [tln 1798
] the garland on her heade was Fawnia
the faire shepheard, whose beauty was so much talked of in the Court. Dorastus
desirous to see if nature had adorned her minde with any inward qualities, as she had decked her body with outward shape, began to question with her whose daughter she was, of what age and how she had bin trained vp, who answered him with such modest reuerence and sharpnesse of witte, that Dorastus
thought her outward beautie was but a counterfait to darken her inward qualities, [tln 2451–3
] wondring how so courtly behauiour could be found in so simple a cottage, and cursing fortune that had shadowed wit and beauty with such hard fortune.
As thus he held her a long while with chat, Beauty seeing him at discouert, thought not to lose the vantage, but strooke him so deepely with an inuenomed shafte, as he wholy lost his libertie, and became a slaue to Loue, which before contemned Loue, glad now to gaze on a poore shepheard, who before refused the offer of a riche Princesse: for the perfection of Fawnia
had so fixed his fancie as he felt his mind greatly chaunged, and his affections altered, cursing Loue that had wrought such a chaunge, and blaming the basenesse of his mind that would make such a choice: but thinking these were but passionat toies that might be thrust out at pleasure, to auoid the Syren
that inchaunted him, he put spurs to his horse, and bad this faire shepheard farwell.
Fawnia (who all this while had marked the princely ges-
ture of Dorastus
) seeing his face so wel featured, and each lim so perfectly framed, began greatly to praise his perfection, commending him so long, till she found her selfe faultie, [tln 1799
] and perceiued that if she waded but a little further, she might slippe ouer her shooes: shee therefore seeking to quench that fire which neuer was put out, went home, and faining her selfe not well at ease, got her to bed: where casting a thousand thoughts in her head, she could take no rest: for if she waked, she began to call to minde his beautie, and thinking to beguile such thoughts with sleepe, she then dreamed of his perfection: pestred thus with these vnacquainted passions, she passed the night as she could in short slumbers.
Dorastus (who all this while rode with a flea in his eare) coulde not by any meanes forget the sweete fauour of Fawnia, but rested so bewitched with her wit and beauty, as hee could take no rest. He felt fancy to giue the assault, and his wounded mind readie to yeeld as vanquished: yet he began with diuers considerations to suppresse this frantick affection, calling to minde, that Fawnia was a shepheard, one not worthy to bee looked at of a Prince, much lesse to bee loued of such a potentate, thinking what a discredite it were to himself, and what a griefe it would be to his father, blaming fortune and accusing his owne follie, that shoulde bee so fond as but once to cast a glaunce at such a country slut. As thus he was raging against him selfe, Loue, fearing if shee dallied long, to loose her champion, stept more nigh, and gaue him such a fresh wounde as it pearst him at the heart, that he was faine to yeeld, maugre his face, and to forsake the companie and gette him to his chamber: where being solemnly set, hee burst into these passionate tearmes.
Ah Dorastus, art thou alone? No not alone, while thou art tired with these vnacquainted passions. Yeld to fancy, thou canst not by thy fathers counsaile, but in a frenzie thou art by iust destinies. Thy father were content, if thou couldest loue, and thou therefore discontent, because thou doest loue. O deuine Loue, feared of men because honoured of the Gods, not to be suppressed by wisdome, because not to be comprehen-
ded by reason: without Lawe, and therefore aboue all Law.
How now Dorastus, why doest thou blaze that with praises, which thou hast cause to blaspheme with curses? Yet why should they curse Loue, that are in Loue?
Blush Dorastus at thy fortune, thy choice, thy loue: thy thoughts cannot be vttered without shame, nor thy affections without discredit. Ah Fawnia, sweete Fawnia, thy beautie Fawnia. Shamest not thou Dorastus to name one vnfitte for thy birth, thy dignities, thy Kingdomes? Dye Dorastus, Dorastus die, better hadst thou perish with high desires, then liue in base thoughts. Yea but, beautie must be obeyed, because it is beauty, yet framed of the Gods to feede the eye, not to fetter the heart.
Ah but he that striueth against Loue, shooteth with them of Scyrum against the winde, and with the Cockeatrice pecketh against the steele. I will therefore obey, because I must obey, Fawnia, yea Fawnia shal be my fortune, in spight of fortune. [tln 1826–36] The Gods aboue disdain not to loue women beneath. Phoebus liked Sibilla, Iupiter Io, and why not I then Fawnia, one something inferiour to these in birth, but farre superiour to them in beautie, borne to be a Shepheard, but worthy to be a Goddesse.
Ah Dorastus, wilt thou so forget thy selfe as to suffer affection to suppresse wisedome, and Loue to violate thine honour?
honour] ~ 1592; hononour 1588
How sower will thy choice be to thy Father, sorrowfull to thy Subiects, to thy friends a griefe, most gladsome to thy foes? Subdue then thy affections, and cease to loue her whome thou couldst not loue, vnlesse blinded with too much loue. Tushe I talke to the wind, and in seeking to preuent the causes, I further the effectes. I will yet praise Fawnia
, honour, yea and loue Fawnia
, and at this day followe content, not counsaile. Doo Dorastus
, thou canst but repent: and with that his Page came into the chamber, whereupon hee ceased from his complaints, hoping that time would weare out that which fortune had wrought. As thus he was pained, so poore Fawnia
was diuersly perplexed: for the next morning getting vp very earely, shee went to her sheepe, thinking with
hard labours to passe away her new conceiued amours, beginning very busily to driue them to the field, and then to shift the foldes, at last (wearied with toile) she sate her down, where (poore soule) she was more tryed with fond affections: for loue beganne to assault her, in so much that as she sate vpon the side of a hill, she began to accuse her owne folly in these tearmes.
Infortunate Fawnia, and therefore infortunate because Fawnia, thy [tln 2263] shepherds hooke sheweth thy poore state, thy proud desires an aspiring mind: the one declareth thy want, the other thy pride. No bastard hauke must soare so hie as the Hobbie, no Fowle gaze against the Sunne but the Eagle, actions wrought against nature reape despight, and thoughts aboue Fortune disdaine.
Fawnia, thou art a shepheard, daughter to poore Porrus: if thou rest content with this, thou art like to stande, if thou climbe thou art sure to fal. The Herb Anita growing higher then sixe ynches becommeth a weede. Nylus flowing more then twelue cubits procureth a dearth. Daring affections that passe measure, are cut shorte by time or fortune: suppresse then Fawnia those thoughts which thou mayest shame to expresse. But ah Fawnia, loue is a Lord, who will commaund by power, and constraine by force.
Dorastus, ah Dorastus is the man I loue, the woorse is thy hap, and the lesse cause hast thou to hope. Will Eagles catch at flyes, will Cedars stoupe to brambles, or mighty Princes looke at such homely trulles. No, no, thinke this, Dorastus disdaine is greater then thy desire, hee is a Prince respecting his honor, thou a beggars brat forgetting thy calling. Cease then not onely to say, but to thinke to loue Dorastus, and dissemble thy loue Fawnia, for better it were to dye with griefe, then to liue with shame: yet in despight of loue I will sigh, to see if I can sigh out loue. Fawnia somewhat appeasing her griefes with these pithie perswasions, began after her wonted maner to walke about her sheepe, and to keepe them from straying into the corne, suppressing her affection with the due consideration of her base estate, and with the impossibilities of her loue, thinking it were frenzy, not fancy, to couet that which
the very destinies did deny her to obteine.
But Dorastus was more impatient in his passions: for loue so fiercely assayled him, that neither companie, nor musicke could mittigate his martirdome, but did rather far the more increase his maladie: shame would not let him craue counsaile in this case, nor feare of his Fathers displeasure reueyle it to any secrete friend: but hee was faine to make a Secretarie of himselfe, and to participate his thoughtes with his owne troubled mind. Lingring thus awhile in doubtfull suspence, at last stealing secretely from the court without either men or Page, hee went to see if hee coulde espie Fawnia walking abroade in the field: but as one hauing a great deale more skill to retriue the partridge with his spaniels, then to hunt after such a straunge pray, he sought, but was little the better: which crosse lucke draue him into a great choler, that he began both to accuse loue and fortune. But as he was readie to retire, he sawe Fawnia sitting all alone vnder the side of a hill, making a garland of such homely flowers as the fields did afoord. This sight so reuiued his spirites that he drewe nigh, with more iudgement to take a view of her singular perfection, which hee found to bee such, as in that countrey attyre shee stained al the courtlie Dames of Sicilia. While thus he stoode gazing with pearcing lookes on her surpassing beautie, Fawnia cast her eye aside, and spyed Dorastus, which
which] ~ 1607; with 1588
sudden sight made the poore girl to blush, and to die her christal cheeks with a vermilion red: which gaue her such a grace, as she seemed farre more beautiful. And with that she rose vp, saluting the Prince with such modest curtesies, as he wondred how a country maid could afoord such courtly behauiour. Dorastus
, repaying her curtesie with a smiling countenance, began to parlie with her on this manner.
Faire maide (quoth he) either your want is great, or a shepheards life very sweete, that your delight is in such country labors. I can not conceiue what pleasure you should take, vnlesse you meane to imitate the nymphes, being your selfe
your selfe] ~ 1592; you,selfe 1588
so like a Nymph. To put me out of this doubt, shew me what is to be commended in a shepherdes life, and what
pleasures you haue to counteruaile these drudging laboures. Fawnia
with blushing face made him this ready aunswere.
Sir, what richer state then content, or what sweeter life then quiet, we shepheards are not borne to honor, nor beholding vnto beautie, the lesse care we haue to feare fame or fortune: we count our attire braue inough if warme inough, and our foode
foode] ~ 1592; fdode 1588
dainty, if to suffice nature: our greatest enemie is the wolfe: our only care in safe keeping our flock: in stead of courtly ditties we spend the daies with cuntry songs: our amorous conceites are homely thoughtes: delighting as much to talke of Pan
and his cuntrey prankes, as Ladies to tell of Venus
and her wanton toyes. Our toyle is in shifting the fouldes, and looking to the Lambes,
Lambes,] ~ 1614; ~ ‸ 1588
easie labours: oft singing and telling tales, homely pleasures: our greatest welth not to couet, our honor not to climbe, our quiet not to care. Enuie looketh not so lowe as shepheards: Shepheards gaze not so high as ambition: we are rich in that we are poore with content, and proud onely in this that we haue no cause to be proud.
This wittie answer of Fawnia so inflamed Dorastus fancy, as he commended him selfe for making so good a choyce, thinking, [tln 2449–53] if her birth were aunswerable to her wit and beauty, that she were a fitte mate for the most famous Prince in the worlde. He therefore beganne to sifte her more narrowely on this manner.
Fawnia, I see thou art content with Country labours, because thou knowest not Courtly pleasures: I commend thy wit, and pitty thy want: but wilt thou leaue thy Fathers Cottage, and serue a Courtlie Mistresse.
Sir (quoth she) beggers ought not to striue against fortune, nor to gaze after honour, least either their fall be greater, or they become blinde. I am borne to toile for the Court, not in the Court, my nature vnfit for their nurture, better liue then in meane degree, than in high disdaine.
Well saide, Fawnia (quoth Dorastus) I gesse at thy thoughtes, thou art in loue with some Countrey Shep-
No sir (quoth she) shepheards cannot loue, that are so simple, and maides may not loue that are so young.
Nay therefore (quoth Dorastus) maides must loue, because they are young, for Cupid is a child, and Venus, though olde, is painted with fresh coloures.
I graunt (quoth she) age may be painted with new shadowes, and youth may haue imperfect affections: but what arte concealeth in one, ignorance reuealeth in the other. Dorastus seeing Fawnia helde him so harde, thought it was vaine so long to beate about the bush: therefore he thought to haue giuen her a fresh charge: but he was so preuented by certaine of his men, who missing their maister, came posting to seeke him: seeing that he was gone foorth all alone, yet before they drewe so nie that they might heare their talke, he vsed these speeches.
Why Fawnia, perhappes I loue thee, and then thou must needes yeelde, for thou knowest I can commaunde and constraine. Trueth sir (quoth she) but not to loue: for constrained loue is force, not loue: and know this sir, mine honesty is such, as I hadde rather dye then be a Concubine euen to a King, and my birth is so base as I am vnfitte to bee a wife to a poore farmer. Why then (quoth he) thou canst not loue Dorastus? Yes saide Fawnia, when Dorastus becomes a shepheard, and with that the presence of his men broke off their parle, so that he went with them to the palace, and left Fawnia sitting still on the hill side, who seeing that the night drewe on, shifted her fouldes, and busied her selfe about other worke to driue away such fond fancies as began to trouble her braine. But all this could not preuaile, for the beautie of Dorastus had made such a deepe impression in her heart, as it could not be worne out without cracking, so that she was forced to blame her owne folly in this wise.
Ah Fawnia, why doest thou gaze against the Sunne, or catch at the Winde: starres are to be looked at with the eye, not reacht at with the hande: thoughts are to be measured by Fortunes, not by desires: falles come not by sitting low, but by climing too hie: what then shall al feare to fal, because some
happe to fall? No,
No,] ~ 1595; ~ ‸ 1588
lucke commeth by lot, and fortune windeth those threedes which the destinies spin. Thou art fauored Fawnia
of a prince, and yet thou art so fond to reiect desired fauours: thou hast deniall at thy tonges end, and desire at thy hearts bottome: a womans fault, to spurne at that with her foote, which she greedily catcheth at with her hand. Thou louest Dorastus
, and yet seemest to lower. Take heede, if hee retire, thou wilt repent: for vnles hee loue, thou canst but dye. Dye then Fawnia
: for Dorastus
doth but iest: the Lyon neuer prayeth on the mouse, nor Faulcons stoupe not to dead stales [OED
]. Sit downe then in sorrow, ceasse to loue, and content thy selfe, that Dorastus
will vouchsafe to flatter Fawnia
, though not to fancy Fawnia
. Heigh ho: Ah foole, it were seemelier for thee to whistle as a Shepheard, then to sigh as a louer, and with that she ceassed from these perplexed passions, folding her sheepe, and hying home to her poore Cottage. But such was the incessant sorrow of Dorastus
to thinke on the witte and beautie of Fawnia
, and to see how fond hee was being a Prince: and how froward she was being a beggar, that
that] ~ 1607; then 1588
he began to loose his wonted appetite, to looke pale and wan: in stead of mirth, to feede on melancholy: for courtly daunces to vse cold dumpes: in so much that not onely his owne men, but his father and all the court began to maruaile at his sudden change, thinking that some lingring sickenes had brought him into this state: wherefore he caused Phisitions to come, but Dorastus
neither would let them minister, nor so much as suffer them to see his vrine: but remained stil so oppressed with these passions, as he feared in him selfe a farther inconuenience.
His honor wished him to ceasse from such folly, but Loue forced him to follow fancy: yea and in despight of honour, loue wonne the conquest, so that his hot desires caused him to find new deuises, for hee presently made himselfe a shepheards coate, that he might goe vnknowne, and with the lesse suspition to prattle with Fawnia
, and conueied it secretly into a thick groue hard ioyning to the Pallace, whether finding fit time, and oportunity, he went all alone, and putting off his princely apparel, got on those shepheards roabes, and taking [tln 2263
] a great hooke in his hand (which he had also gotten) he went very an-
like an old man . . .
] to finde out the mistres of his affection: but as he went by the way, seeing himselfe clad in such vnseemely ragges, he began to smile at his owne folly, and to reproue his fondnesse in these tearmes.
Well said Dorastus, thou keepest a right decorum, base desires and homely attires: thy thoughtes are fit for none but a shepheard, and thy apparell such as only become a shepheard. A strang change from a Prince to a pesant? What is it? thy wretched fortune or thy wilful folly? Is it thy cursed destinies? Or thy crooked desires, that appointeth thee this penance? Ah Dorastus thou canst but loue, and vnlesse thou loue, thou art like to perish for loue. Yet fond foole, choose flowers, not weedes: Diamondes, not peables: Ladies which may honour thee, not shepheards which may disgrace thee. Venus is painted in silkes, not in ragges: and Cupid treadeth on disdaine, when he reacheth at dignitie. [tln 1826–36] And yet Dorastus shame not at thy shepheards weede: the heauenly Godes haue sometime earthly thoughtes: [tln 1828–32] Neptune became a Ram, Iupiter a Bul, Apollo a shepheard: they Gods, and yet in loue: and thou a man appointed to loue.
Deuising thus with himselfe, hee drew nigh to the place where Fawnia was keeping her shepe, who casting her eye aside, and seeing such a manerly shepheard, perfectly limmed, and comming with so good a pace, she began halfe to forget Dorastus, and to fauor this prety shepheard, whom she thought shee might both loue and obtaine: but as shee was in these thoughts, she perceiued then, it was the yong prince Dorastus, wherfore she rose vp, and reuerently saluted him. Dorastus taking her by the hand, repaied her curtesie with a sweete kisse, and praying her to sit downe by him, he began thus to lay the batterie.
If thou maruell Fawnia at my strange attyre, thou wouldest more muse at my vnaccustomed thoughtes: the one disgraceth but my outward shape, the other disturbeth my inward sences. I loue Fawnia, and therefore what loue liketh I cannot mislike. Fawnia thou hast promised to loue, and I
hope thou wilt performe no lesse: I haue fulfilled thy request, and now thou canst but graunt my desire. Thou wert content to loue Dorastus
when he ceast to be a Prince, and graunted
graunted] ~ Wells
to become a shepheard, and see I haue made the change, and therefore hope
hope] ~ Wells
not to misse of my choice.
Trueth, quoth Fawnia, but all that weare Cooles [cowls] are not Monkes: painted Eagles are pictures, not Eagles, Zeusis Grapes were like Grapes, yet shadowes: rich clothing make not princes: nor homely attyre beggers: shepheards are not called shepheardes, because they were [wear] hookes and bagges: but that they are borne poore, and liue to keepe sheepe, so this attire hath not made Dorastus a shepherd, but to seeme like a shepherd.
shepherd] ~ 1592; shephherd 1588
Well Fawnia, answered Dorastus: were I a shepherd, I could not but like thee, and being a prince I am forst to loue thee. Take heed Fawnia, be not proud of beauties painting, for it is a flower that fadeth in the blossome. Those which disdayne in youth are despised in age: Beauties shadowes are trickt vp with times colours, which being set to drie in the sunne are stained with the sunne, scarce pleasing the sight ere they beginne not to be worth the sight, not much vnlike the herbe Ephemeron, which flourisheth in the morning and is withered before the sunne setting: if my desire were against lawe, thou mightest iustly deny me by reason, but I loue thee Fawnia, not to misuse thee as a Concubine, but to vse thee as my wife: I can promise no more, and meane to performe no lesse.
Fawnia hearing this solemne protestation of Dorastus, could no longer withstand the assault, but yeelded vp the forte in these friendly tearmes.
Ah Dorastus, I shame to expresse that thou forcest me with thy sugred speeche to confesse: my base birth causeth the one, and thy high dignities the other. Beggars thoughts ought not to reach so far as Kings, and yet my desires reach as high as Princes, I dare not say Dorastus, I loue thee, be-
cause I am a shepherd, but the Gods know I haue honored Dorastus
(pardon if I say amisse) yea and loued Dorastus
with such dutiful affection as Fawnia
can performe, or Dorastus
desire: I yeeld, not ouercome with prayers, but with loue, resting Dorastus
handmaid ready to obey his wil, if no preiudice at all to his honour, nor to my credit.
Dorastus hearing this freendly conclusion of Fawnia embraced her in his armes, swearing that neither distance, time, nor aduerse fortune should diminish his affection: but that in despight of the destinies he would remaine loyall vnto death. Hauing thus plight their troath each to other, seeing they could not haue the full fruition of their loue in Sycilia for that [tln 1817–20, 1838–49] Egistus consent woulde neuer bee graunted to so meane a match, Dorastus determined assone as time and oportunitie would giue them leaue, to prouide a great masse of money, and many rich and costly iewels, for the easier cariage, and then [tln 2351 ff.] to transporte them selues and their treasure into Italy, where they should leade a contented life, vntil such time as either he could be reconciled to his Father, or els by succession
succession] ~ 1592; sucession 1588
come to the Kingdome. This deuise was greatly praysed of Fawnia
, for she feared if the King his father should but heare of the contract, that his furie would be such as no lesse then death would stand for payment: she therefore tould him, that delay bred daunger: that many mishaps did fall out betweene the cup and the lip, and that to auoid danger, it were best with as much speed as might be to pass out of Sycilia
, least fortune might preuent their pretence with some newe despight: Dorastus
, whom loue pricked forward with desire, promised to dispatch his affaires with as great hast, as either time or oportunitie would geue him leaue: and so resting vpon this point, after many imbracings and sweete kisses they departed. Dorastus
hauing taken his leaue of his best beloued Fawnia
, went to the Groue where hee had his rich apparel, and there [tln 2512
] vncasing himself as secretly as might be, hiding vp his shepheards attire, till occasion should serue againe to vse it: hee went to the pallace, shewing by his merrie countenaunce, that either the state of his body was amended, or the case of his minde
greatly redressed: Fawnia
poore soule was no less ioyful, that being a shepheard, fortune had fauoured her so, as to reward her with the loue of a Prince, hoping in time to be aduaunced from the daughter of a poore farmer to be the wife of a riche King
: so that she thought euery houre a yeere, till by their departure they might preuent danger, not ceasing still to goe euery daye to her sheepe, not so much for the care of her flock, as for the desire she had to see her loue and Lord Dorastus
: who oftentimes, when oportunitie would serrue, repaired thither to feede his fancy with the sweet content of Fawnias
Fawnias‸] ~ 1592; ~ , 1588
presence: and although he neuer went to visit her, but in his shepheards ragges, yet his ofte repaire made him not onely suspected, but knowne to diuers of their neighbours: who for the good will they bare to old Porrus
, tould him secretly of the matter, wishing him to keepe his daughter at home, least she went so oft to the field that she brought him home a yong sonne: for they feared that Fawnia
being so beautifull, the yong prince would allure her to folly. Porrus
was striken into a dump at these newes, so that thanking his neighboures for their good will hee hyed him home to his wife, and calling her aside, wringing his handes and shedding foorth teares, he brake the matter to her in these tearmes.
I am afraid wife, that my daughter Fawnia hath made her selfe so fine, that she will buy repentance too deare. I heare newes, which if they be true, some will wish they had not proued true. It is tould me by my neighbours, that Dorastus the Kinges sonne begins to looke at our daughter Fawnia: which if it be so, I will not geue her a halfepeny
halfepeny] ~ 1592; halfepenp 1588
for her honestie at
honestie at] ~ 1592; honestiect 1588
the yeeres end. I tell thee wife, nowadaies beauty is a great stale to trap yong men, and faire wordes and sweete promises are two great enemies to a maydens honestie: and thou knowest where poore men intreate, and cannot obtaine, there Princes may commaund, and wil obtaine. Though Kings sonnes daunce in nettes, they may not be seene: but poore mens faultes are spied at a little hole: Well, it is a hard case where Kinges lustes are lawes, and that they should binde poore men to that, which they themselues wilfully breake.
Peace husband (quoth his wife) take heede what you say: speake no more then you should, least you heare what you would not: great streames are to be stopped by sleight, not by force: and princes to be perswaded by submission, not by rigor: doe what you can, but no more than you may, least in sauing Fawnia
s mayden-head, you loose your owne head. Take heede I say, it is ill iesting with edged tooles, and bad sporting with Kinges. The Wolfe had his skinne puld ouer his eares for but looking into the Lions den. Tush wife (quoth he) thou speakest like a foole. If the King should knowe that Dorastus
had begotten our daughter with childe (as I feare it will fall out little better) the Kings furie would be such as no doubt we should both loose our goodes and liues: necessitie therefore hath no lawe, and I will preuent this mischiefe with a newe deuise that is come into my head, which shall neither offend the King, nor displease Dorastus
. I meane to take the chaine and the iewels that I found with Fawnia
, and carrie them to the King, letting him then to vnderstand how she is none of my daughter, but that I found her beaten vp with the water alone in a little boate wrapped in a rich Mantle, wherein was inclosed this treasure. By this meanes I hope the King will take Fawnia
into his seruice, and we whatsoeuer chaunceth shal be blamelesse. This deuice pleased the good wife very well, so that they determined assoone as they might know the King at leisure, to make him priuie to this case. In the meane time Dorastus
was not slacke in his affaires, but applyed his matters with such diligence, that he prouided all thinges fitte for their iourney.
Treasure and Iewels he had gotten great store, thincking there was no better friend than money in a strange countrey: rich attire he had prouided for Fawnia
, and, because he could not bring the matter to passe without the helpe and aduice of some one, he made an old seruant of his called Capnio
, who had serued him from his childhood, priuie to his affaires: who seeing no perswasions could preuaile to diuert him from his setled determination, gaue his consent and dealt so secretly in the cause, that within short space, hee had gotten a ship ready for their passage: the Mariners seeing a fit gale of winde for their purpose, wished Capnio
to make no delayes,
least if they pretermitted this good weather, they might stay long ere they had such a fayre winde. Capnio
fearing that his negligence should hinder the iourney, in the night time conueyed the trunckes full of treasure into the shippe, and by secrete meanes let Fawnia
vnderstand, that the next morning they meant to depart: she vpon this newes slept verie little that night, but gotte vp very early, and wente to her sheepe, looking euery minute when she should see Dorastus
, who taried not long, for fear delay might breede daunger, but came as fast as he could gallop, and without any great circumstance tooke Fawnia
vp behinde him and rode to the hauen, where the shippe lay, which was not three quarters of a mile distant from that place. He no sooner came there, but the Marriners were readie with their Cockboate to set them aboard, where being coucht together in a Cabben they past away the time in recounting their old loues, til their man Capnio
should come. Porrus
who had heard that this morning the King would go abroad to take the ayre, called in haste to his wife to bring him his holyday hose and his best Iacket, that he might goe like an honest substantiall man to tell his tale. His wife, a good cleanly wenche, brought him all things fitte, and spungd him vp very handsomlie, giuing him the chaines and Iewels in a little boxe, which Porrus
for the more safety put in his bosom. Hauing thus all his trinkets in a readines, taking his staffe in his hand he bad his wife kisse him for good lucke, and so hee went towards the Pallace. But as he was going, fortune (who meant to showe him a little false play) preuented his purpose in this wise.
He met by chaunce in his way Capnio, who trudging as fast as he could with a little coffer vnder his arme to the ship, and spying Porrus whome he knewe to be Fawnias Father, going towardes the Pallace, being a wylie fellow, began to doubt the worst, and therefore crost him the way, and askt him whither he was going so earely this morning.
Porrus (who knew by his face that he was one of the Court) meaning simply, told him that the Kings son Dorastus dealt hardly with him; for he had but one Daughter who was a little beautifull, and that his neighboures told him the young
Prince had allured her to folly, he went therefore now to complaine to the King how greatly he was abused.
Capnio (who straight way smelt the whole matter) began to soothe him in his talke, and said, that Dorastus dealt not like a Prince to spoyle any poore manes daughter in that sort: he therefore would doe the best for him he could, because he knew he was an honest man. But (quoth Capnio) you lose your labour in going to the Pallace, for [tln 2642–5] the King meanes this day to take the aire of the Sea, and to goe aboord of a shippe that lies in the hauen. I am going before, you see, to prouide all things in redinesse, and if you will follow my counsaile, turne back with me to the hauen, where I will set you in such a fitte place as you may speake to the King at your pleasure. Porrus giuing credit to Capnios smooth tale, gaue him a thousand thanks for his friendly aduise, and went with him to the hauen, making all the way his complaintes of Dorastus, yet concealing secretlie the chaine and the Iewels. Assone as they were come to the Sea side, the marriners seeing Capnio, came a land with their cockboate, who still dissembling the matter, demaunded of Porrus if he would go see the ship? who vnwilling and fearing the worst, because he was not well acquainted with Capnio, made his excuse that he could not brooke the Sea, therefore would not trouble him.
Capnio seeing that by faire meanes hee could not get him aboord, commaunded the mariners that by violence they should carrie him into the shippe, who like sturdy knaues hoisted the poore shepheard on their backes, and bearing him to the boate, lanched from the land.
Porrus seeing himselfe so cunningly betraied durst not crie out, for hee sawe it would not preuaile, but began to intreate Capnio and the mariners to be good to him, and to pittie his estate, hee was but a poore man that liued by his labour: they laughing to see the shepheard so afraide, made as much haste as they could, and set him aboorde. Porrus was no sooner in the shippe, but he saw Dorastus walking with Fawnia, yet he scarse knew her: for she had attired her selfe in riche apparell, which
which‸] ~ 1607; ~ , 1588
so increased her beauty, that shee resembled rather an Angell than a mortall creature.
, were halfe astonished to see the olde shepherd, maruailing greatly what wind had brought him thither, til Capnio
Capnio] ~ 1592; Capino 1588
told them al the whole discourse: how Porrus
was going to make his complaint to the King, if by pollicie he had not preuented him, and therefore now sith he was aboord, for the auoiding of further danger it were best to carrie him into Italy
Dorastus praised greatly his mans deuise, and allowed of his counsaile; but Fawnia, (who stil feared Porrus, as her father) began to blush for shame, that by her meanes he should either incure daunger or displeasure.
The old shephard hearing this hard sentence, that he should on such a sodaine be caried from his Wife, his country, and kinsfolke, into a forraine Lande amongst straungers, began with bitter teares to make his complaint, and on his knees to intreate Dorastus, that pardoning his vnaduised folly he would giue him leaue to goe home: swearing that hee would keepe all thinges as secret as they could wish. But these protestations could not preuaile, although Fawnia intreated Dorastus very earnestly, but the mariners hoisting their maine sailes waied ankers, and hailed into the deepe, where we leaue them to the fauour of the wind and seas, and returne to Egistus.
Who hauing appointed this day to hunt in one of his Forrests, called for his sonne Dorastus to go sport himselfe, because hee saw that of late hee began to loure; but his men made answer that hee was gone abroade none knew whither, except he were gone to the groue to walke all alone, as his custome was to doe euery day.
The King willing to waken him out of his dumpes, sent one of his men to goe seeke him, but in vaine, for at last he returned, but finde him he could not, so that the King went himselfe to goe see the sport; where passing away the day, returning at night from hunting, hee asked for his sonne, but he could not be heard of, which draue the King into a great choler: whereupon most of his Noblemen and other Courtiers poasted abroad to seek him, but they could not heare of him through all Sicilia, onely they missed Capnio his man which againe
made the King suspect that hee was not gone farre.
Two or three daies being passed, and no newes heard of Dorastus, Egistus began to feare that he was deuoured with some wilde beastes, and vpon that made out a great troupe of men to go seeke him; who coasted through all the Country, and searched in euerie daungerous and secrete place, vntill at last they mette with a Fisherman that was sitting in a little couert hard by the sea side mending his nettes, when Dorastus and Fawnia tooke shipping: who being examined if he either knewe or heard where the Kings Sonne was, without any secrecie at all reuealed the whole matter, how he was sayled two dayes past, had in his company his man Capnio, Porrus and his faire Daughter Fawnia. This heauie newes was presently caryed to the King, who halfe dead for sorrow commaunded Porrus wife to be sent for: she being come to the Pallace, after due examination, confessed that her neighbours had oft told her that the Kings Sonne was too familier with Fawnia, her Daughter: whereuppon, her husband fearing the worst, about two dayes past (hearing the King should goe an hunting) rose earely in the morning and went to make his complaint, but since she neither hearde of him, nor saw him. Egistus perceiuing the womans vnfeyned simplicity, let her depart without incurring further displeasure, conceiuing
conceiuing] ~ 1614; conceiling 1588
such secret greefe for his Sonnes recklesse follie, that he had so forgotten his honour and parentage, by so base a choise to dishonor his father, and discredit himselfe, that with very care and thought he fel into a quartan feuer, which was so vnfit for his aged yeeres and complexion, that he became so weake, as the Phisitions would graunt him no life.
But his sonne Dorastus little regarded either father, countrie, or Kingdome in respect of his Lady Fawnia, for fortune smyling on this young nouice, lent him so lucky a gale of winde, for the space of a day and a night, that the maryners lay and slept vpon the hatches; but on the next morning about the breake of the day, the aire began to be ouercast, the winds to rise, the seas to swel, yea presently [tln 2408] there arose such a fearfull tempest, as the ship was in danger to be swallowed vp with euery sea, the maine mast with the violence of the wind was thrown
ouer boord, the sayles were torne, the tacklings went in sunder, the storme raging still so furiously that poore Fawnia
was almost dead for feare, but that she was greatly comforted with the presence of Dorastus
. The tempest continued three dayes, al which time the Mariners euerie minute looked for death, and the aire was so darkned with cloudes that the Maister could not tell by his compasse in what Coast they were. But vpon the fourth day about ten of the clocke, the wind began to cease, the sea to waxe calme, and the sky to be cleare, and the Mariners descryed the coast of Bohemia
, shooting of their ordnance for ioy that they had escaped such a fearefull tempest.
Dorastus hearing that they were arriued at some harbour, sweetly kissed Fawnia, and bad her be of good cheare: when they tolde him that the port belonged vnto the cheife Cittie of Bohemia where Pandosto kept his Court, Dorastus began to be sad, knowing that his Father hated no man so much as Pandosto, and that the King himself had sought secretly to betray Egistus: this considered, he was halfe afraid to goe on land, but that Capnio counselled him to chaunge his name and his countrey, vntil such time as they could get some other barke to transport them into Italy. Dorastus liking this deuise made his case priuy to the Marriners, rewarding them bountifully for their paines, and charging them to saye that he was a Gentleman of Trapalonia called Meleagrus. The shipmen willing to shew what friendship they could to Dorastus, promised to be as secret as they could, or hee might wish, and vppon this they landed in a little village a mile distant from the Citie, where after they had rested a day, thinking to make prouision for their mariage, the fame of Fawnias beauty was spread throughout all the Citie, so that it came to the eares of Pandosto, who then [tln 2240] being about the age of fifty, had notwithstanding yong and freshe affections: so that he desired greatly to see Fawnia, and to bring this matter the better to passe, hearing they had but one man, and how they rested at a very homely house, he caused them to be apprehended as spies, and sent a dozen of his garde to take them: who being come to their lodging, tolde them the Kings message. Dorastus no
whit dismayed, accompanied with Fawnia
, went to the court (for they left Porrus
to keepe the stuffe) who being admitted to the Kings presence,
presence,] ~ 1592; ~ . 1588 Dorastus
with humble obeysance saluted his maiestie.
Pandosto amased at the singular perfection of Fawnia, stood halfe astonished, viewing her beauty, so that he had almost forgot himselfe what hee had to doe: at last with stearne countenance he demaunded their names, and of what countrey they were, and what caused them to land in Bohemia. Sir (quoth Dorastus) know that my name Meleagrus is,
is,] ~ ‸ 1588–95; reading differs 1601+
a Knight borne and brought vp in Trapalonia, and this gentlewoman, whom I meane to take to my wife is an Italian [tln 2915
] borne in Padua, from whence I haue now brought her. The cause I haue so small a trayne with me is for that, her friends vnwilling to consent, I intended secretly to conuey her into Trapalonia; whither as I was sailing, by distresse of weather I was driuen into these coasts: thus haue you heard my name, my country, and the cause of my voiage. Pandosto
starting from his seat as one in choller, made this rough reply.
Meleagrus, I feare this smooth tale hath but small trueth, and that thou couerest a foule skin with faire paintings. No doubt this Ladie by her grace and beauty is of her degree more meete for a mighty Prince, then for a simple knight, and thou like a periured traitour hast bereft her of her parents, to their present griefe, and her insuing sorrow. Till therefore I heare more of her parentage and of thy calling, I wil stay you both here in Bohemia.
Dorastus, in whome rested nothing but Kingly valor, was not able to suffer the reproches of Pandosto, but that he made him this answer.
It is not meete for a King, without due proofe to appeach any man of ill behauiour, nor vpon suspition to inferre beleefe: straungers ought to bee entertained with courtesie, not to bee intreated with crueltie, least being forced by want to put vp iniuries, the Gods reuenge their cause with rigor.
Pandosto hearing Dorastus vtter these wordes, [tln 2998] commaunded that he should straight be committed to prison, vntill such
time as they heard further of his pleasure, but as for Fawnia
, he charged that she should be entertained in the Cohrt, with such curtesie as belonged to a straunger and her calling. The rest of the shipmen he put into the Dungeon.
Hauing thus hardly handled the supposed Trapalonians, [tln 2724] Pandosto contrarie to his aged yeares
yeares] ~ 1592; yeaxes 1588
began to be somewhat tickled with the beauty of Fawnia
, in so much that hee could take no rest, but cast in his old head a thousand new deuises: at last he fell into these thoughtes.
How art thou pestred Pandosto with fresh affections, and vnfitte fancies, wishing to possesse with an vnwilling mynde, and in
in] ~ Wells
a hot desire troubled with a could disdaine! Shall thy mynde yeeld in age to that thou hast resisted in youth? Peace Pandosto
, blabbe not out that which thou maiest be ashamed to reueale to thy self. Ah, Fawnia
is beautifull, and it is not for thine honour (fond foole) to name her that is thy Captiue, and an other mans Concubine. Alas, I reach at that with my hand which my hart would faine refuse: playing like the bird Ibys
in Egipt, which hateth Serpents, yet feedeth on their egges.
Tush, hot desires turne oftentimes to colde disdaine: Loue is brittle, where appetite, not reason, beares the sway. Kinges thoughtes ought not to climbe so high as the heauens, but to looke no lower then honour: better it is to pecke at the starres with the young Eagles, then to prey on dead carkasses with the Vulture: tis more honourable for Pandosto to dye by concealing Loue, then to enioy such vnfitte Loue. Dooth Pandosto then loue? Yea. Whome? A maid vnknowne, yea and perhapps, immodest, stragled out of her owne countrie: beautifull, but not therefore chast: comely in bodie, but perhappes crooked in minde. Cease then Pandosto, to looke at Fawnia, much lesse to loue her: be not ouertaken with a womans beauty, whose eyes are framed by arte to inamour, whose hearte is framed by nature to inchaunt, whose false teares knowe their true times, and whose sweete wordes pearce deeper then sharpe swordes. Here Pandosto ceased from his talke, but not from his loue: for although he sought by reason, and wisedome
to suppresse this franticke affection, yet he could take no rest, the beautie of Fawnia
had made such a deepe impression in his heart. But on a day, walking; abroad into a Parke which was hard adioyning to his house, he sent by one of his seruants for Fawnia
, [see n. 2995
] vnto whome he vttered these wordes.
Fawnia, I commend thy beauty and wit, and now pittie thy distresse and want: but if you wilt forsake Sir Meleagrus, whose pouerty, though a Knight, is not able to maintaine an estate aunswerable to thy beauty, and yeld thy consent to Pandosto, I wil both increase thee with dignities and riches. No sir, answered Fawnia: Meleagrus is a knight that hath wonne me by loue, and none but he shal [tln 404] weare me: his sinister mischance shall not diminishe my affection, but rather increase my good will. Thinke not though your Grace hath imprisoned him without cause, that feare shall make mee yeeld my consent: I had rather be Meleagrus wife, and a beggar, then liue in plenty, and be Pandostos Concubine. Pandosto, hearing the assured aunswere of Fawnia, would, notwithstanding, prosecute his suite to the vttermost: seeking with faire words and great promises to scale the fort of her chastitie, swearing that if she would graunt to his desire, Meleagrus should not only be set at libertie, but honored in his courte amongst his Nobles: but these alluring baytes could not intise her minde from the loue of her newe betrothed mate Meleagrus: which Pandosto seeing, he left her alone for that time to consider more of the demaund. Fawnia, being alone by her selfe, began to enter into these solitarie meditations.
Ah, infortunate Fawnia, thou seest to desire aboue fortune is to striue against the Gods and Fortune. Who gazeth at the sunne weakeneth his sight: they which stare at the skie, fall oft into deepe pits: haddest thou rested content to haue been a shepheard, thou neededst not to haue feared mischaunce. Better had it bene for thee, by sitting lowe, to haue had quiet, then by climing high to haue fallen into miserie. But alas, I feare not mine owne daunger, but Dorastus displeasure. Ah sweete Dorastus, thou art a Prince, but now a prisoner, by too much
loue procuring thine owne losse. Haddest thou not loued Fawnia
thou haddest bene fortunate. Shall I then bee false to him that hath forsaken Kingdomes for my cause? No; would my death might deliuer him, so mine honor might be preserued. With that, fetching a deepe sigh, she ceased from her complaints, and went againe to the Pallace, inioying a libertie without content, and profered pleasure with smal ioy. But poore Dorastus
lay all this while in close prison, being pinched with a hard restraint, and pained with the burden of colde, and heauie Irons, sorrowing sometimes that his fond affection had procured him this mishappe, that by the disobedience of his parentes, he had wrought his owne despight: an other while cursing the Gods and fortune, that they should crosse him with such sinister chaunce: vttering at last his passions in these words.
Ah vnfortunate wretch, borne to mishappe, now thy folly hath his desert: Art thou not worthie for thy base minde to haue bad fortune? could the destinies fauour thee, which hast forgot thine honor and dignities? Wil not the Gods plague him with despight that payneth his father with disobedience? Oh Gods, if any fauour or iustice be left, plague me, but fauour poore Fawnia, and shrowd her from the tirannies of wretched Pandosto, but let my death free her from mishap, and then, welcome death! Dorastus payned with these heauie passions, sorrowed and sighed, but in vaine, for which he vsed the more patience. But againe to Pandosto, who broyling at the heat of vnlawfull lust coulde take no rest but still felte his minde disquieted with his new loue, so that his nobles and subiectes marueyled greatly at this sudaine alteration, not being able to coniecture the cause of this his continued care. Pandosto, thinking euery hower a yeare til he had talked once againe with Fawnia, sent for her secretly into his chamber, whither though Fawnia vnwillingly comming, Pandosto entertained her very courteously, vsing these familiar speaches, which Fawnia answered as shortly in this wise.
, are you become lesse wilfull and more wise, to preferre the loue of a King before the liking of a poore Knight? I thinke ere this you thinke it is better to be fauoured of a King then of a subiect.
Pandosto, [tln 2446–7] the body is subiect to victories, but the mind not to be subdued by conquest: honesty is to be preferred before honour, and a dramme of faith weigheth downe a tunne of gold. I haue promised Meleagrus to loue, and will performe no lesse.
Fawnia, I know thou art not so vnwise in thy choice, as to refuse the offer of a King, nor so ingrateful as to dispise a good turne: thou art now in that place where I may commaunde, and yet thou seest I intreate. My power is such as I may compell by force, and yet I sue by prayers: Yeelde Fawnia thy loue to him which burneth in thy loue. Meleagrus shall be set free, thy countrymen discharged: and thou both loued and honoured.
I see, Pandosto, where lust ruleth it is a miserable thing to be a virgin, but know this, that I will alwaies preferre fame before life, and rather choose death then dishonour.
Pandosto seeing that there was in Fawnia a determinate courage to loue Meleagrus, and a resolution without feare to hate him, flong away from her in a rage: swearing if in shorte time she would not be wonne with reason: he would forget all courtesie, and compel her to graunt by rigour: but [tln 2287] these threatning wordes no whit dismayed Fawnia; but that she still both dispighted and dispised Pandosto. While thus these two louers stroue, the one to winne loue the other to liue in hate: Egistus heard certaine newes by Merchauntes of Bohemia,
that his sonne Dorastus
was imprisoned by Pandosto
, which made him feare greatly that his sonne should be but hardly intreated: yet considering that Bellaria
and hee was cleared by the Oracle of Apollo
from that crime wherewith Pandosto
had vniustly charged them, hee thought best to send with all speed to Pandosto
, that he should set free his sonne Dorastus
, and put to death Fawnia
and her father Porrus
: finding this by the aduise of Counsaile the speediest remedy to release his sonne, he caused presently two of his shippes to be rigged, and thoroughly furnished with prouision of men and victuals, and sent diuers of his nobles Embassadoures into Bohemia
; who willing to obey their King, and relieue their yong Prince: made no delayes, for feare of danger, but with as much speed as might be, sailed towards Bohemia
: the winde and seas fauored them greatly, which made them hope of some good happe, for within three daies they were landed: which Pandosto
no soner heard of their arriuall, but [tln 3006
] hee in person went to meete them, intreating them with such sumptuous and familiar courtesie, that they might well perceiue how sory he was for the former iniuries hee had offered to their King, and how willing (if it might be) to make amendes. As Pandosto
made report to them, how one Meleagrus
, a Knight of Trapolonia, was lately ariued with a Lady called Fawnia
in his land, comming very suspitiously, accompanied onely with one seruant, and an olde shepheard. The Embassadours perceiued by the halfe, what the whole tale ment, and began to coniecture, that it was Dorastus
, who for feare to bee knowne, had chaunged his name: but dissembling the matter, they shortly ariued at the Court, where after they had bin verie solemnly and sumptuously feasted, the noble men of Sicilia
being gathered togither, they made reporte of their Embassage: where they certified Pandosto
was sonne and heire to the King Egistus
, and that his name was Dorastus
: how contrarie to the Kings minde he had priuily conuaied away that Fawnia
, intending to marrie her, being but daughter to that poore shepheard Porrus
wherevpon] ~ 1592 (?); where vpon 1588
] the Kings request was that Capnio
, and Porrus
, might bee murthered and put to death, and that his sonne Dorastus<