himselfe, not only this day and the night following, but many more
afterward, til he lost both his feeding and sleepe, so that through
debility of body, he was constrained to keepe his bed. Gisippus, who
had divers dayes noted his melancholly disposition, and now his
falling into extreamitie of sicknesse, was very sorry to behold it:
and with all meanes and inventions he could devise to use, hee both
questioned the cause of this straunge alteration, and essayed everie
way, how hee might best comfort him, never ceassing to demaunde a
reason, why he should become thus sad and sickely. But Titus after
infinite importuning (which still he answered) with idle and frivolous
excuses, farre from the truth indeede, and (to the no meane affliction
of his friend) when he was able to use no more contradictions; at
length, in sighes and teares, thus he replyed.
Gisippus, were the Gods so wel pleased, I could more gladly yeild to
dye, then continue any longer in this wretched life, considering, that
Fortune hath brought mee to such an extremity, as proofe is now to
be made of my constancie and vertue; both which I finde conquered in
me, to my eternall confusion and shame. But my best hope is, that I
shal shortly be requited, as I have in justice deserved, namely with
death, which will be a thousand times more welcome to me, then a
loathed life, with remembrance of my base dejection in courage,
which because I can no longer conceale from thee; not without blushing
shame, I am well contented for to let thee know it.
Then began hee to recount, the whole occasion of this straunge
conflict in him, what a maine battaile hee had with his private
thoughts, confessing that they got the victory, causing him to die
hourely for the love of Sophronia, and affirming withall, that in
due acknowledgement, how greatly hee had transgressed against the
lawes of friendship, he thought no other penance sufficient for him,
but onely death, which he willingly expected every houre, and with all
his heart would gladly bid welcome.
Gisippus hearing this discourse, and seeing how Titus bitterly wept,
in agonies of most moving afflictions: sat an indifferent while sad
and pensive, as being wounded with affection to Sophronia, but yet
in a well-governed and temperate manner without any long delaying, hee
concluded with himselfe; that the life of his friend ought to be
accounted much more deare, then any love hee could beare unto
Sophronia: And in this resolution, the teares of Titus forcing his
eyes to flow forth like two Fountaines, thus he replyed.
Titus, if thou hadst not neede of comfort, as plainly I see thou
hast, I would justly complaine of thee to my selfe, as of the man
who hath violated our friendship, in keeping thine extreamitie so long
time concealed from mee, which hath beene overtedious for thee to
endure. And although it might seeme to thee a dishonest case, and
therefore kept from the knowledge of thy friend, yet I plainly tell
thee, that dishonest courses (in the league of amitie) deserve no more
concealment, then those of the honestest nature. But leaving these
impertinent wandrings, let us come to them of much greater necessitie.
If thou doest earnestly love faire Sophronia, who is betroathed
and afflanced to me, it is no matter for me to marvaile at: but I
should rather be much abashed, if thou couldst not intyrely affect
her, knowing how beautifull she is, and the nobility of her minde,
being as able to sustaine passion, as the thing pleasing is fullest of
excellence. And looke how reasonable thou fanciest Sophronia, as
unjustly thou complainest of thy fortune, in ordaining her to be my
wife, although thou doest not speake it expresly: as being of opinion,
that thou mightst with more honesty love her, if she were any
others, then mine. But if thou art so wise, as I have alwayes held
thee to be, tell me truely upon thy faith, to whom could Fortune
better guide her, and for which thou oughtest to be more thankfull,
then in bestowing her on me? Any other that had enjoyed her,
although thy love were never so honest, yet he would better affect her
himselfe, then for thee, which thou canst not (in like manner) looke
for from me, if thou doest account me for thy friend, and as
constant now as ever.
Reason is my warrant in this case, because I cannot remember,
since first our entrance into friendship, that ever I enjoyed any
thing, but it was as much thine, as mine. And if our affaires had such
an equall course before, as otherwise they could not subsist; must
they not now be kept in the same manner? Can any thing more
perticularly appertaine to me, but thy right therein is as absolute as
mine? I know not how thou maist esteeme of my friendship, if in any
thing concerning my selfe, I can plead my priviledge to be above
thine. True it is, that Sophronia is affianced to me, and I love her
dearely, daily expecting when our nuptials shall be celebrated. But
seeing thou doest more fervently affect her, as being better able to
Judge of the perfections, remaining in so excellent a creature as
she is, then I doe: assure thy selfe, and beleeve it constantly,
that she shall come to my bed, not as my wife but onely thine. And
therefore leave these despairing thoughts, shake off this cloudy
disposition, reassume thy former joviall spirit, with comfort and what
else can content thee: in expectation of the happy houre, and the just
requitall of thy long, loving, and worthy friendship, which I have
alwayes valued equall with mine owne life.
Titus hearing this answer of Gisippus, looke how much the sweet hope
of that which he desired gave him pleasure, as much both duty and
reason affronted him with shame; setting before his eyes this du
consideration, that the greater the liberality of Gisippus was,
farre greater and unreasonable it appeared to him in disgrace, if
hee should unmannerly accept it. Wherefore, being unable to refrain
from teares, and with such strength as his weaknesse would give leave,
thus he replyed.
Gisippus, thy bounty and firme friendship suffereth me to see
apparantly, what (on my part) is no more then ought to be done. All
the Gods forbid, that I should receive as mine, her whom they have
adjudged to be thine, by true respect of birth and desert. For if they
had thought her a wife fit for me, doe not thou or any else imagine,
that ever she should have beene granted to thee. Use freely
therefore thine owne election, and the gracious favour wherewith
they have blessed thee: leave me to consume away in teares, a mourning
garment by them appointed for me, as being a man unworthy of such
happinesse; for either I shall conquer this disaster, and that wil
be my crowne, or else will vanquish me, and free me from all paine:
whereto Gisippus presently thus answered.
Worthy Titus, if our amity would give me so much licence, as but
to contend with my selfe, in pleasing thee with such a thing as I
desire, and could also induce thee therein to be directed: it is the
onely end whereat I aime, and am resolved to pursue it. In which
regard, let my perswasions prevaile with thee, and thereto I conjure
thee, by the faith of a friend, suffer me to use mine authority,
when it extendeth both to mine owne honour, and thy good, for I will
have Sophronia to bee onely thine. I know sufficiently, how farre
the forces of love doe extend in power, and am not ignorant also,
how not once or twice, but very many times, they have brought lovers
to unfortunate ends, as now I see thee very neere it, and so farre
gone, as thou art not able to turne backe againe, nor yet to conquer
thine owne teares, but proceeding on further in this extremity, thou
wilt be left vanquished, sinking under the burthen of loves
tyrannicall oppression, and then my turne is next to follow thee.
And therefore, had I no other reason to love thee, yet because thy
life is deare to me, in regard of mine owne depending thereon; I stand
the neerer thereto obliged. For this cause, Sophronia must and shal be
thine, for thou canst not find any other so conforme to thy fancy:
albeit I who can easily convert my liking to another wife, but never
to have the like friend againe, shall hereby content both thee, and my
selfe.
Yet perhaps this is not a matter so easily done, or I to expresse
such liberality therein, if wives were to be found with the like
difficultie, as true and faithfull friends are: but, (being able to
recover another wife) though never such a worthy friend; I rather
chuse to change, I doe not say loose her (for in giving her to thee, I
loose her not my selfe) and by this change, make that which was good
before, tenne times better, and so preserve both thee and my selfe. To
this end therefore, if my prayers and perswasions have any power
with thee, I earnestly entreat thee, that, by freeing thy selfe out of
this affliction, thou wilt (in one instant) make us both truely
comforted, and dispose thy selfe (living in hope) to embrace that
happinesse, which the fervent love thou bearest to Sophronia, hath
justly deserved.
Now although Titus was confounded with shame, to yeeld consent, that
Sophronia should be accepted as his wife, and used many obstinate
resistances: yet notwithstanding, Love pleading on the one side
powerfully, and Gisippus as earnestly perswading on the other, thus he
answered. Gisippus, I know not what to say, neither how to behave my
selfe in this election, concerning the fitting of mine contentment, or
pleasing thee in thy importunate perswasion. But seeing thy liberality
is so great, as it surmounteth all reason or shame in me, I will yeeld
obedience to thy more then noble nature. Yet let this remaine for
thine assurance, that I doe not receive this grace of thine, as a
man not sufficiently understanding, how I enjoy from thee, not onely
her whom most of all I doe affect, but also doe hold my very life of
thee. Grant then you greatest Gods (if you be the Patrones of this
mine unexpected felicitie) that with honor and due respect, I may
hereafter make apparantly knowne: how highly I acknowledge this thy
wonderfull favour, in being more mercifull to me, then I could be to
my selfe.
For abridging of all further circumstances, answered Gisippus, and
for easier bringing this matter to full effect, I hold this to be
our onely way. It is not unknowne to thee, how after much discourse
had between my kindred, and those belonging to Sophronia, the
matrimoniall conjunction was fully agreed on, and therefore, if now
I shall flye off, and say, I will not accept thee as my wife: great
scandall would arise thereby, and make much trouble among our friends,
which could not be greatly displeasing to me, if that were the way
to make her thine. But I rather stand in feare, that if I forsake
her in such peremptory sort, her kinred and friends will bestow her on
some other, and so she is utterly lost, without all possible meanes of
recovery. For prevention therefore of all sinister accidents, I thinke
it best, (if thy opinion jumpe with mine) that I still pursue the
busines, as already I have begun, having thee alwaies in my company,
as my dearest friend and onely associate. The nuptials being performed
with our friends, in secret manner at night (as we can cunningly
enough contrive it) thou shalt have her maiden honour in bed, even
as if she were thine owne wife. Afterward, in apt time and place, we
will publiquely make knowne what is done; if they take it well, we
will be as jocond as they: if they frowne and waxe offended, the
deed is done, over-late to be recalled, and so perforce they must rest
contented.
You may well imagine, this advise was not a little pleasing to
Titus, wherupon Gisippus received home Sophronia into his house,
with publike intention to make her his wife, according as was the
custome then observed, and Titus being perfectly recovered, was
present at the Feast very ceremonially observed. When night was
come, the Ladies and Gentlewomen conducted Sophronia to the
Bride-Chamber, where they left her in her Husbands bed, and then
departed all away. The Chamber wherein Titus used to lodge, joyned
close to that of Gisippus, for their easier accesse each to the other,
at all times whensoever they pleased, and Gisippus being alone in
the Bride-Chamber, preparing as if he were comming to bed:
extinguishing the light, he went softly to Titus, willing him to goe
to bed to his wife. Which Titus hearing, overcome with shame and
feare, became repentant, and denyed to goe. But Gisippus, being a true
intyre friend indeed, and confirming his words with actions: after a
little lingring dispute, sent him to the Bride, and so soone as he was
in the bed with her, taking Sophronia gently by the hand, softly he
moved the usuall question to her, namely, if she were willing to be
his wife.
She beleeving verily that he was Gisippus, modestly answered. Sir, I
have chosen you to be my Husband, reason requires then, that I
should be willing to be your wife. At which words, a costly Ring,
which Gisippus used daily to weare, he put upon her finger, saying.
With this Ring, I confesse my selfe to be your Husband, and bind you
(for ever) my Spouse and Wife; no other kind of marriage was
observed in those dayes, and so he continued all the night with her,
she never suspecting him to be any other then Gisippus, and thus was
the marriage consumated, betweene Titus and Sophronia, albeit the
friends (on either side) thought otherwise.
By this time, Publius, the father of Titus, was departed out of this
mortall life, and letters came to Athens, that with all speed he
should returne to Rome, to take order for occasions there concerning
him; wherefore he concluded with Gisippus about his departure, and
taking Sophronia thither with him, which was no easie matter to be
done, until it were first known, how occasions had bin caried among
them. Wherupon, calling her one day into her Chamber, they told her
entirely, how all had past, which Titus confirmed substantially, by
such direct passages betweene themselves, as exceeded all
possibility of denyall, and moved in her much admiration; looking each
