piece of such perfection: another while, thinking it a purchase fit
for one of Cupids soldiers, to seize and surprize hir uppon so faire
an advantage, none being to yeild her rescue: in the fiery triall of
such temptations, I am not able to Judge, or to say, what resistance
flesh and blood could make, being opposed with such a sweet enemy.
But he well considering what she was, the greatnes of his injury, as
also how, and for whom: he forgot all wanton allurements of Love,
scorning to entertaine a thought of compassion, continuing constant in
his resolution, to let her suffer, as he himselfe had done. So, Helena
being mounted up on the Turret, and turning her face towards the
North; she repeated those idle frivolous words (composed in the nature
of a charme) which shee had received from the Scholler. Afterward,
by soft and stealing steps, hee went into the old Tower, and tooke
away the Ladder, whereby she ascended to the Tarras, staying and
listening, how shee proceeded in her amorous exorcisme.
Seven times she rehearsed the charme to the Image, looking still
when the two Ladies would appeare in their likenesse, and so long
she held on her imprecations (feeling greater cold, then willinglie
she would have done) that breake of day began to shew it selfe, and
halfe despairing of the Ladies comming, according as the Scholler
bad promised, she said to her selfe: I much misdoubt, that Reniero
hath quitted me with such another peece of night-service, as it was my
lucke to bestow on him: but if he have done it in that respect, hee
was but ill advised in his revenge, because the night wants now
three parts of the length, as then it had: and the cold which he
suffered, was far superior in quality to mine, albeit it is more sharp
now in the morning, then all the time of night it hath bin.
And, because day-light should not discover her on the Tarrasse,
she went to make her descent downe againe: but finding the Ladder to
be taken away, and thinking how her publike shame was now
inevitable, her heart dismayed, and shee fell downe in a swoune on the
Tarras: yet recovering her senses afterward, her greefe and sorrow ex.
ceeded all capacity of utterance. For, now she became fully perswaded,
that this proceeded from the Schollers malice, repenting for her
unkinde usage towards him, but much more condemning her selfe, for
reposing any trust in him, who stood bound (by good reason) to be
her enemy.
Continuing long in this extreame affliction, and surveighing all
likely meanes about her, whereby she might descend from the Tarras,
whereof she was wholly disappointed: she began to sighe and weepe
exceedingly, and in this heavy perplexity of spirit, thus shee
complained to her selfe. Miserable and unfortunate Helena, what will
be saide by thy Bretheren, Kindred, Neighbours, and generallie
throughout all Florence, when they shall know, that thou wast founde
heere on this Turret, starke naked? Thine honourable carriage, and
honesty of life, heeretofore free from a thought of suspition, shall
now be branded with detestation; and if thou wouldst cloud this
mishappe of thine, by such lies and excuses, as are not rare amongst
women: yet Reniero that wicked Scholler, who knoweth all thy privy
compacting, will stand as a thousand witnesses against thee, and shame
thee before the whole City, so both thine honor and loved friend are
lost for ever.
Having thus consulted with her selfe, many desperate motions
entred her minde, to throw her selfe headlong from off the Tarras;
till better thoughts wone possession of her soule. And the Sunne being
risen, shee went to every corner of the Tarras, to espye any Lad
come abroad with his beasts, by whom she might send for her
waitingwoman. About this instant, the Scholler who lay sleeping (all
this while) under a bush, suddenly awaking; saw her looke over the
wall, and she likewise espyed him; whereupon hee said unto her. Good
morrow Madame Helena, What? are the Ladies come yet or no? Helena
bearing his scorning question, and grieving that hee should so
delude her: in teares and lamentations, she intreated him to come
neere the Tower, because she desired to speake with him. Which
courtesie he did not deny her, and she lying groveling upon her
brest on the Tarras, to hide her body that no part thereof might be
seene, but her head; weeping, she spake thus to him.
Reniero, upon my credit, if I gave thee an ill nights rest, thou
hast well revenged that wrong on me; for, although wee are now in
the moneth of july, I have beene plagued with extremity of colde (in
regard of my nakednesse) even almost frozen to death: beside my
continuall teares and lamenting, that folly perswaded me to beleeve
thy protestations, wherein I account it well-neere miraculous, that
mine eyes should be capable of any sight. And therefore I pray thee,
lot in respect of any love which thou canst pretend to beare me; but
for regard of thine owne selfe, being a Gentleman and a Scholler, that
this punishment which thou hast already inflicted upon me, may suffice
for or my former injuries towards thee, and to hold selfe revenged
fully, as also permit my garments to be brought me, that I may descend
from hence, without taking th it from me, which afterward (although
thou wouldst) thou canst never restore me, I meane mine honour. And
consider with thy selfe, that albeit thou didst not injoy my company
that unhappy night, yet thou hast power to command me at any time
when soever, with making many diversities of amends, for one nights
offence only committed. Content thy selfe then good Reniero, and as
thou art an honest gentleman, say thou art sufficiently revenged on
me, in making me dearely confesse mine owne errour.
Never exercise thy malice upon a poore weake woman, for the Eagle
disdaineth to pray on the yeelding Dove: and therefore in meere pitty,
and for manhoods sake, be my release from open shame and reproch.
The Scholler, whose envious spleene was swolne very great, in
remembring such a malicious cruelty exercised on him, beholding to
weepe and make such lamentations; found a fierce conflict in his
thoughts, betweene content and pitty. It did not a little joy and
content him, that the revenge which he so earnestly desired to
compasse, was now by him so effectually inflicted. And yet (in meere
humanity) pitty provoked him, to commisserate the Ladies distressed
condition: but clemency being over-weake to withstand his rigor,
thus he replied. Madam Helena, if mine entreaties (which, to speake
truly, I never knew how to steepe in tears, nor wrap up my words in
sugar Candie, so cuningly as you women know how to do) could have
prevailed, that miserable night, when I was well-neere frozen to death
with cold, and meerly buried with snow in your Court, not having
anie place of rescue or shelter; your complaints would now the more
easily over-rule me. But if your honor in estimation, bee now more
precious to you then heretofore, and it seemeth so offensive to
stand there naked: convert your perswasions and prayers to him, in
whose armes you were that night imbraced, both of your triumphing in
my misery, when poor I, trotted about your Court, with the teeth
quivering in my head, and beating mine armes about my body, finding no
compassion in him, or you. Let him bring thee thy Garments, let him
come helpe thee down with the Ladder, and let him have the care of
thine honour, on whom thou hast bene so prodigall heretofore in
bestowing it, and now hast unwomanly throwne thy selfe in perill,
onely for the maintenance of thine immodest desires.
Why dost thou not call on him to come helpe thee? To whom doeth it
more belong, then to him? For thou art his and he thine. Why then
shold any other but he help thee in this distresse? Call him (foole as
thou art) and try, if the love he beareth thee, and thy best
understanding joyned with his, can deliver thee out of my sottish
detaining thee. I have not forgot, that when you both made a pastime
of my misery, thou didst demand of him, which seemed greatest in his
opinion, either my sottish simplicity, or the love thou barest him.
I am not now so liberall or courteous, to desire that of thee, which
thou wouldst not grant, if I did request it: No, no, reserve those
night favours for thy amorous friend, if thou dost escape hence
alive to see him againe. As for my selfe, I leave thee freely to his
use and service: because I have sufficiently payde for a womans
falshood, and wisemen take such warning, that they scorne to bee twice
deceived, and by one woman. Proceed on stil in thy flattering
perswasions, terming me to be a Gentleman and a Scholler, thereby to
win such favor from me, that I should think thy villany toward me,
to be already sufficiently punished. No, treacherous Helena, thy
blandishments cannot now hoodwink the eies of my understanding, as
when thou didst out-reach me with thy disloyall promises and
protestations. And let me now tell thee plainely, that all the while I
continued in the Universitie of Paris, I never attained unto so
perfect an understanding of my selfe, as in that one miserable night
thou diddest enstruct mee. But admit, that I were enclined unto a
mercifull and compassionate minde, yet thou art none of them, on whome
milde and gracious mercy should any way declare her effects. For,
the end of pennance among savage beasts, such as thou art, and
likewise of due vengeance, ought to be death: whereas among men, it
should suffice according to thine owne saying. Wherefore, in regard
that I am neither an Eagle, nor thou a Dove, but rather a most
venomous Serpent: I purpose with my utmost hatred, and as an ancient
enemy to all such as thou art, to make my revenge famous on thee.
I am not ignorant, that whatsoever I have already done unto thee,
cannot properly be termed revenge, but rather chastisement; because
revenge ought alwayes to exceede the offence, which (as yet) I am
farre enough from. For, if I did intend to revenge my wrongs, and
remembred thy monstrous cruelty to me: thy life, if I tooke it from
thee, and an hundred more such as thy selfe, were farre
insufficient, because in killing thee, I should kill but a vile
inhumane beast, yea, one that deserved not the name of a Woman. And,
to speake truely, Art thou any more, or better (setting aside thy
borrowed haire, and painted beauty, which in few yeares will leave
thee wrinkled and deformed) then the basest beggarly Chamber-stuffe
that can bee? Yet thou soughtest the death of a Gentleman and Scholler
as (in scorne) not long since, thou didst terme me: whose life may
hereafter be more beneficiall unto the world, then millions of such as
thou art, to live in the like multiplicity of ages. Therefore, if this
anguish be sensible to thee, learne what it is to mocke men of
apprehension, and (amongst them especially) such as are Schollers:
to prevent thy falling hereafter into the like extremity, if it be thy
good lucke to escape out of this.
It appeareth to me, that thou art verie desirous to come downe
hither on the ground; the best counsell that I can give thee, is to
leape downe headlong, that by breaking thy necke (if thy fortune be so
faire) thy life and lothsome qualities ending together, I may sit
and smile at thy deserved destruction. I have no other comfort to give
thee, but only to boast my happinesse, in teaching thee the way to
ascend that Tower, and in thy descending downe (even by what means thy
wit can best devise) make a mockery of me, and say thou hast learned
more, then all my Schollership could instruct thee.
All the while as Reniero uttered these speeches, the miserable
Lady sighed and wept very grievously, the time running on, and the
Sunne ascending higher and higher; but when she heard him silent, thus
she answered. Unkinde and cruell man, if that wretched night was so
greevous to thee, and mine offence appeared so great, as neither my
youth, beautie, teares, and humble intercessions, are able to derive
any mercy from thee; yet let the last consideration moove thee to some
remorse: namely that I reposed new confidence in thee (when I had
little or no reason at all to trust thee) and discovered the
integritie of my soule unto thee, whereby thou didst compasse the
meanes, to punish me thus deservedly for my sinne. For, if I had not
reposed confidence in thee, thou couldst not (in this maner) have
wrought revenge on me, which although thou didst earnestly covet,
yet my rash credulitie was thy onely helpe. Asswage then thine
anger, and graciously pardon me, wherein if thou wilt be so
mercifull to me, and free me from this fatall Tower: I do heere
faithfully promise thee, to forsake my most false and disloyall
friend, electing thee as my Lord and constant Love for ever.
Moreover, although thou condemnest my beauty greatly, esteeming it
as a trifle, momentary, and of slender continuance; yet, such as it is
(being comparable with any other womans whatsoever) I am not so
ignorant, that were there no other reason to induce liking thereof:
yet men in the vigour of their youth (as I am sure you think your
selfe not aged) do hold it for an especiall delight, ordained by
nature for them to admire and honour. And notwithstanding all thy
cruelty extended to mee, yet I cannot be perswaded, that thou art so
flinty or Ironhearted, as to desire my miserable death, by casting
my selfe headlong downe (like a desperate madde woman) before thy
face, so to destroy that beuty, which (if thy Letters lyed not) was
once so highly pleasing in thine eyes. Take pitty then on mee for
charities sake, because the Sunne beginneth to heate extreamely: and
as over-much colde (that unhappy night) was mine offence, so let not
over-violent warmth be now my utter ruine and death.
The Scholler, who (onely to delight himselfe) maintained this long
discoursing with her, returned her this answere. Madame, you did not
repose such confidence in me, for any good will or afrection in you
towards me, but in hope of recovering him whom you had lost; wherein
you merit not a jot of favour, but rather the more sharpe and severe
infliction. And whereas you inferre, that your over-rash credulity,
