Lord, a most abundant bestower where he beginneth, added long wished
tydings concerning the life and good estate of Henry Capece. For, even
as they were feasting, and the concourse great of worthy guests,
both Lords and Ladies; the first service was scarsely set on the
Tables, but the Ambassador which was sent to Sicily, arrived there
before them. Among many other important matters, he spake of
Henriet, who being so long a time detained in prison by King
Charles, when the commotion arose in the Citty against the King; the
people (grudging at Henriets long imprisonment) slew the Guards, and
set him at liberty. Then as capitall enemie to King Charles, hee was
created Captaine Generall, following the chase, and killing the
French.
Now by this meanes, he grew great in the grace of King Pedro, who
replanted him in all the goods and honours which he had before, with
verie high and eminent authority. Hereunto the Ambassador added,
that hee was entertayned with extraordinary grace, and delivery of
publike joy and exaltation, when his Wife and Sonne were knowne to
be living, of whom no tydings had at any time bene heard, since the
houre of his surprizall. Moreover, that a swift winged Bark was now
sent thither (upon the happy hearing of this newes) well furnished
with noble Gentlemen, to attend till their returning backe. We neede
to make no doubt concerning the tydings brought by this Ambassadour,
nor of the Gentlemens welcome, thus sent to Madame Beritola and
Geoffrey; who before they would sit downe at the Table, saluted Messer
Conrado and his kinde Lady (on the behalfe of Henriet) for all the
great graces extended to her and her Sonne, with promise of any thing,
lying in the power of Henriet, to rest continually at their command.
The like they did to Signior Gasparino (whose liberall favours came
unlooked for) with certaine assurance, that when Henriet should
understand what he had done for his other Sonne, the Poore expelled,
there would be no defaylance of reciprocall courtesies.
As the longest joyes have no perpetuity of lasting, so all these
graceful ceremonies had their conclusion, with as many sighes and
teares at parting, as joyes abounded at their first encountring.
Imagine then, that you see such aboord, as were to have here no longer
abiding, Madam Beritola and Geoffrey, with the rest; as the Poore
expelled, the so late married Wives, and the faithfull Nurse bearing
them company. With prosperous windes they arrived in Sicily, where the
Wife, Sonnes, and Daughters, were joyfully met by Henriet at
Palermo, and with such honourable pompe, as a case so important
equally deserved. The Histories make further mention, that there
they lived (a long while after) in much felicitie, with thankfull
hearts (no doubt) in Heaven, in acknowledgement of so many great
mercies received.
THE SECOND DAY, THE SEVENTH NOVELL
A LIVELY DEMONSTRATION, THAT THE BEAUTY OF A WOMAN (OFTENTIMES)
IS VERY HURTFULL TO HER SELFE, AND THE OCCASION
OF MANY EVILS, YEA, AND OF DEATH, TO DIVERS MEN
The Soldan of Babylon sent one of his Daughters, to be joyned in
marriage with the King of Cholcos, who by divers accidents (in the
space of foure yeeres) happened into the custodie of nine men, and
in sundry places. At length, being restored backe to her Father, she
went to the saide King of Cholcos, as a Maid, and as at first she
was intended to be his wife.
Peradventure the Novell related by Madam Aemillia, did not extend it
selfe so farre in length, as it mooved compassion in the Ladies
mindes, the hard fortunes of Beritol and her Children, which had
incited them to weeping: but that it pleased the Queen (upon the Tales
conclusion) to command Pamphilus, to follow next in order with his
Discourse; and he being thereto very obedient, began in this manner.
It is a matter of no meane difficulty (vertuous Ladies) for us to
take intire knowledge of every thing we doe, because (as oftentimes
hath bene observed) many men, imagining if they were rich, they should
live securely, and without any cares. And therefore, not onely have
theyr prayers and intercessions aimed at that end, but also their
studies and daily endevours, without refusall of any paines or
perils have not meanely expressed their hourely solicitude. And
although it hath happened accordingly to them, and their covetous
desires fully accomplished; yet at length they have mette with such
kinde people, who likewise thirsting after their wealthy
possessions, have bereft them of life, being their kinde and
intimate friends, before they attained to such riches. Some other,
being of lowe and base condition, by adventuring in many skirmishes
and foughten battels, trampling in the bloud of their brethren and
friends, have bene mounted to the soveraigne dignity of Kingdomes
(beleeving that therein consisted the truest happinesse) but bought
with the deerest price of their lives. For, beside their infinit cares
and feares wherewith such greatnesse is continually attended, at the
royall Tables, they have drunke poyson in a Golden pot. Many other
in like manner (with most earnest appetite) have coveted beauty and
bodily strength, not foreseeing with any judgement, that these
wishes were not without perill; when being endued with them, they
either have bene the occasion of their death, or such a lingering
lamentable estate of life, as death were a thousand times more welcome
to them.
But, because I would not speake particularly of all our fraile and
humane affections, I dare assure ye, that there is not any one of
these desires to be elected among us mortals, with entire forsight
or providence, warrantable against their ominous yssue. Wherefore,
if we would walke directly, wee should dispose our willes and
affections, to be guided onely by him, who best knoweth what is
needfull for us, and will bestow them at his good pleasure. Nor let me
lay this blamefull imputation uppon men onely, for offending in many
through over lavish desires: because you your selves (gracious Ladies)
sinne highly in one, as namely, in coveting to be beautifull. So
that it is not sufficient for you, to enjoy those beauties bestowne on
you by Nature; but you practice to increase them by the rarities of
Art. Wherefore, let it not offend you, that I tell you the hard
fortune of a faire Sarazine, to whom it hapned by straunge adventures,
that within the compasse of foure yeares, nine severall times to be
married. and onely for her beauty.
It is now a long time since, that there lived Soldane in Babylon,
named Beminidab, to whom (while he lived) many things happened,
answerable to his owne desires. Among divers other Children both
male and female, hee had a daughter called Alathiella, and shee
(according to the common voyce of every one that saw her) was the
fayrest Lady then living in all the world. And because the King of
Cholcos had wonderfully assisted him, in a most valiant foughten
battell against a mighty Armie of Arabians, who on a sodaine had
assailed him; he demanded his faire daughter in marriage, which
likewise was kindly granted to him. Whereupon a goodly and
well-armed Ship was prepared for her, with full furnishment of all
necessary provision, and accompanied with an honourable traine both of
Lords and Ladies, as also most costly and sumptuous accoustrements;
commending her to the mercy of heaven, in this maner was she sent
away.
The time being propitious for their parting thence, the Mariners
hoised their sayles, leaving the port of Alexandria, and sayling
prosperously many dayes together. When they had past the Countrey of
Sardinia, and (as they imagined) were well neere to their journeyes
end; sodainely arose boysterous and contrary windes, which were so
impetuous beyond all measure, and so tormented the Ship wherein the
Lady was; that the Mariners seeing no signe of comfort, gave over
all hope of escaping with life. Neverthelesse, as men most expert in
implacable dangers, they laboured to their uttermost power, and
contended with infinite blustring tempests, for the space of two dayes
and nights together, hoping the third day would prove more favourable.
But therein they saw themselves deceyved, for the violence continued
still, encreasing in the night time more and more, being not any way
able to comprehend either where they were, or what course they
tooke, neither by Marinall judgement, or any apprehension else
whatsoever, the heavens were so clouded, and the nights darkenesse
so extreame.
Beeing (unknowne to them) neere the Isle of Majorica, they felt the
Shippe to split in the bottome: by meanes whereof, perceiving now no
hope of escaping (every one caring for himselfe, and not any other)
they threw foorth a Squiffe on the troubled waves, reposing more
confidence of safety that way, then abiding any longer in the broken
ship. Howbeit such as were first descended downe, made stout
resistance against all other followers, with their drawne weapons: but
safety of life so far prevayled, that what with the Tempests violence,
and over lading of the Squiffe, it sunke to the bottome, and all
perished that were therein. The Ship being thus split, and more then
halfe full of water, tossed and tormented by the blustring windes,
first one way, and then another: was at last driven into a strond of
the Isle Majorica, no other persons therein remaining, but onely the
Lady and her women, all of them (through the rude tempest, and their
owne conceived feare) lying still, as if they were more then halfe
dead. And there, within a stones cast of the neighboring shore the
ship (by the rough surging billowes) was fixed fast in the sands,
and so continued all the rest of the night, without any further
molestation of the windes.
When day appeared, and the violent stormes were more mildly appeased
the Ladie, who seemed well-neere dead, lifted up her head, and began
(weake as she was) to call first one, and then another: but shee
called in vaine, for such as she named were farre enough from her.
Wherefore, hearing no answere, nor seeing any one, she wondred
greatly, her feares encreasing then more and more. Raising her selfe
so well as shee could, she beheld the Ladies that were of her company,
and some other of her women, lying still without any stirring:
whereupon, first jogging one, and then another, and calling them
severally by their names; shee found them bereft of understanding, and
even as if they were dead, their hearts were so quayled, and their
feare so over-ruling, which was no meane dismay to the poore Lady
her selfe. Neverthelesse, necessity now being her best counsellor,
seeing her selfe thus all alone, and not knowing in what place shee
was, shee used such meanes to them that were living, that (at the
last) they came to better knowledge of themselves. And being unable to
guesse, what was become of the men and Marriners, seeing the Ship also
driven on the sands, and filled with water, she began with them to
lament most greevously: and now it was about the houre of mid day,
before they could descry any person on the shore, or any els to pity
them in so urgent a necessity.
At length, noone being past, a Gentleman named Bajazeth, attended by
divers of his followers on horsebacke, and returning from a Countrie
house belonging to him, chanced to ride by on the sands. Uppon sight
of the Ship lying in that case, he imagined truely what had hapned,
and commanded one of his men to enter aboord it, which (with some
difficultie) hee did, to resolve his Lord what remained therein. There
hee found the faire yong Lady, with such small store of company as was
left her, fearefully hidden under the prow of the Ship. So soone as
they saw him, they held up their hands, wofully desiring mercy of him:
but he perceiving their lamentable condition, and that hee understoode
not what they saide to him, their affliction grew the greater,
labouring by signes and gestures, to give him knowledge of their
misfortune.
The servant gathering what he could by their outward behaviour,
declared to his Lord what hee had seene in the Ship; who caused the
Women to be brought on shore, and all the precious things remaining
with them; conducting them with him to a place not far off, where with
food and warmth he gave them comfort. By the rich garments which the
Lady was cloathed withall, he reputed her to be a Gentlewoman well
derived, as the great reverence done to her by the rest, gave him good
reason to conceive. And although her lookes were pale and wan, as also
her person mightily altered, by the tempestuous violence of the Sea:
yet notwithstanding, she appeared faire and lovely in the eye of
Bajazeth, whereupon forthwith he determined, that if she were not
married, hee would enjoy her as his owne in marriage: or if he could
not winne her to bee his wife, yet (at the least) shee should be his
friend, because she remained now in his power.
Bajazeth was a man of stearne lookes, rough and harsh both in speech
and behaviour; yet causing the Lady to be honourably used divers dayes
together, shee became thereby well comforted and recovered. And seeing
her beautie to exceede all comparison, he was afflicted beyond
measure, that he could not understand her, nor she him, whereby hee
could not know of whence or what she was. His amorous flames
encreasing more and more; by kinde, courteous, and affable actions, he
laboured to compasse what he aymed at. But all his endeavour proved to
no purpose, for she refused all familiar privacie with him, which so
much the more kindled the fury of his fire. This being well observed
by the Lady, having now remained there a moneth and more, and
collecting by the customes of the Countrey, that she was among Turkes;
and in such a place, where although she were knowne, yet it would
little advantage her; beside, that long protraction of time would
provoke Bajazeth by faire meanes or force to obtaine his will: she
propounded to her selfe (with magnanimity of spirit) to tread all
misfortunes under her feete, commanding her Women (whereof shee had
but three now remaining alive) that they should not disclose what
