courage being conformable to his bad intent, with all hast it must
be put in execution; so that equity, justice, and honesty, being quite
abandoned, nothing but subtile stratagems were now his meditations.
On a day, according to a fore-compacted treachery which he had
ordered with a Gentleman of the Princes Chamber, who was named
Churiacy, he prepared his horses to be in readinesse, and dispatched
all his affaires else for a sodaine departure. The night following,
hee was secretly conveyed by the said Churiacy, and a friend of his
with him (being both armed) into the Princes Chamber, where he
(while the Ladie was soundly sleeping) stood at a gazing window
towards the Sea, naked in his shirt, to take the coole ayre, because
the season was exceeding hot. Having formerly enstructed his friend
what was to be done, very softly they stept to the Prince, and running
their weapons quite thorow his bodie, immediately they threw him forth
of the window.
Here you are to observe, that the Pallace was seated on the Sea
shore, and verie high, and the Window whereat the Prince then stood
looking foorth, was directly over divers houses, which the long
continuance of time, and incessant beating on by the surges of the
Sea, had so defaced and ruined them, as seldome they were visited by
any person; whereof the Duke having knowledge before, was the easier
perswaded that the falling of the Princes body in so vast a place,
could neither bee heard or descryed by any. The Duke and his
Companion, having thus executed what they came for, proceeded yet in
their cunning a little further; casting a strangling Cord about the
necke of Churiacy, seemed as if they hugged and imbraced him: but drew
it with so maine strength, that he never spake word after, and so
threw him downe after the Prince.
This done, and plainely perceiving that they were not heard or
seene, either by the Lady, or any other: the Duke tooke a light in his
hand, going on to the bed, where the Lady lay most sweetely
sleeping; whom the more he beheld, the more he admired and
commended: but if in her garments shee appeared so pleasing, what
did shee now in a bed of such state and Majestie? Being no way daunted
with his so late committed sin, but swimming rather in surfet of
joy, his hands all bloody, and his soule much more ugly; he laide
him downe on the bed by her, bestowing infinite kisses and embraces on
her, she supposing him to be the Prince all this while, not opening
her eyes to bee otherwise resolved. But this was not the delight he
aymed at, neither did he thinke it safe for him, to delay time with
any longer tarrying there: Wherefore, having his agents at hand fit
and convenient for the purpose, they surprized her in such sort,
that shee could not make any noyse or outcry, and carrying her through
the same false posterne, whereat themselves had entred, laying her
in a Princely litter; away they went with all possible speede, not
tarrying in any place, untill they were arrived neere Athens. But
thither he would not bring her, because himselfe was a married man,
but rather to a goodly Castle of his owne, not distant farre from
the City; where he caused her to bee kept very secretly (to her no
little greefe and sorrow) yet attended on and served in most
honourable manner.
The Gentlemen usually attending on the Prince, having waited all the
next morning till noone, in expectation of his rising, and hearing
no stirring in the Chamber, did thrust at the doore, which was but
onely closed together, and finding no body there, they presently
imagined, that he was privately gone to some other place, where
(with the Ladie, whom he so deerely affected) hee might remaine some
few dayes for his more contentment, and so they rested verily
perswaded. Within some few dayes following, while no other doubt
came in question, the Princes Foole, entering by chance among the
ruined houses, where lay the dead bodies of the Prince and Churiacy:
tooke hold of the cord about Churiacyes necke, and so went along
dragging it after him. The dead body being knowne to many, with no
meane mervaile how he should bee murthered in so vile manner: by gifts
and faire perswasions they wonne him to bring them to the place
where he found it. And there (to the no little greefe of the whole
Cittie) they found the Princes body also, which they caused to bee
intered with all the most Majesticke pompe that might be.
Upon further inquisition, who should commit horrid a deede,
perceyving likewise that the Duke of Athens was not to be found, but
was closely gone: they judged (according to the truth) that he had his
hand in this bloody businesse, and had carried away the Lady with him.
Immediately, they elected the Princes brother to be their Lord and
Soveraigne, inciting him to revenge so horrid a wrong, and promising
to assist him with their utmost power. The new chosen Prince being
assured afterward, by other more apparant and remarkeable proofes,
that his people informed him With nothing but truth: sodainly, and
according as they had concluded, with the help of neighbors, kindred
and frends, collected from divers places; he mustred a good and
powerfull army, marching on towards Athens, to make war against the
Duke.
No sooner heard he of this warlike preparation made against him, but
he likewise levied forces for his owne defence, and to his succour
came many great States: among whom, the Emperor of Constantinople sent
his sonne Constantine, attended on by his Nephew Emanuell, with
Troopes of faire and towardly force, who were honoutably welcommed and
entertained by the Duke, but much more by the Dutchesse, because
shee was their sister in Law.
Military provision thus proceeding on daily more and more, the
Dutches making choise of a fit and convenient houre, took these two
Princes with her to a with-drawing Chamber; and there in flouds of
teares flowing from her eyes, wringing her hands, and sighing
incessantly, she recounted the whole History, occasion of the warre,
and how dishonourably the Duke dealt with her about this strange
woman, whom hee purposed to keepe in despight of her, as thinking that
she knew nothing therof, and complaining very earnestly unto them,
entreated that for the Dukes honour, and her comfort, they would
give their best assistance in this case.
The two young Lords knew all this matter, before shee thus
reported it to them; and therefore, without staying to listen [to] her
any longer, but comforting her so wel as they could, with promise of
their best emploied paines: being informd by her, in what place the
Lady was so closely kept they took their leave, and parted from her.
Often they had heard the Lady much commended, and her incomparable
beauty highly extolled, yea even by the Duke himselfe; which made them
the more desirous to see her: wherfore earnestly they solicited him to
let them have a sight of her, and he (forgetting what happened to
the Prince, by shewing her so unadvisedly to him) made them promise to
grant their request. Causing a very magnificent dinner to be prepared,
and in a goodly garden, at the Castle where the Lady was kept: on
the morrow, attended on by a smal traine, away they rode to dine
with her.
Constantine being seated at the Table, hee began (as one
confounded with admiration) to observe her judiciously, affirming
secretly to his soule that he had never seene so compleat a woman
before; and allowing it for justice, that the Duke or any other
whosoever, if (to enjoy so rare a beauty) they had committed
treason, or any mischeefe els beside, yet in reason they ought to be
held excused. Nor did he bestow so many lookes upon her, but his
praises infinitely surpassed them, as thinking that he could not
sufficiently commend her, following the Duke step by step in
affection; for being now growne amorous of her, and remembrance of the
intended warre utterly abandoned; no other thoughts could come
neerer him but how to bereave the Duke of her, yet concealing his
love, and not imparting it to any one.
While his fancies were thus amorously set on fire, the time came,
that they must make head against the Prince, who already was
marching with in the Dukes dominions: wherfore the Duke,
Constantine, and all the rest, according to a counsel held among them,
went to defend certaine of the Frontiers, to the end that the Prince
might passe no further. Remaining there divers dayes together,
Constantine (who could thinke on nothing else but the beautiful
Lady) considered with himself, that while the Duke was now so farre
from her, it was an easie matter to compasse his intent: Hereupon, the
better to colour his present returne to Athens, he seemed to be
surprized with a sudden extreame sicknesse, in regard whereof (by
the Dukes free license, and leaving all his power to his Cosen
Emanuel) forthwith he journyed backe to Athens. After some
conference had with his sister, about her dishonourable wrongs endured
at his hands onely, by the Lady, he solemnly protested, that if she
were so pleased, hee would aide her powerfully in the matter, by
taking her from the place where shee was, and never more afterward, to
be seene in that Country any more.
The Dutchesse being faithfully perswaded, that he would do this
onely for her sake, and not in any affection he bare to the Lady,
answered, that it highly pleased her; alwayes provided, that it
might be performed in such sort, as the Duke her husband should
never understand, that ever she gave any consent thereto; which
Constantine sware unto her by many deepe oaths, whereby she referred
all to his owne disposition. Constantine heereupon secretly prepared
in a readinesse a subtile Barke, sending it in an evening, neere to
the Garden where the Lady resorted; having first informed the people
which were in it, fully what was to be done. Afterwards, accompanied
with some other of his attendants, he went to the Palace to the
Lady, where he was gladly entertained, not onely by such as wayted
on her, but also by the Lady her selfe.
Leading her along by the arme towards the Garden, attended on by two
of her servants, and two of his owne; seeming as if he was sent from
the Duke, to conferre with her: they walked alone to a Port opening on
the Sea, which standing ready open, upon a signe given by him to one
of his complices, the Barke was brought close to the shore; and the
Ladie being sodainly seized on, was immediately conveyed into it;
and he returning backe to her people, with his sword drawne, said: Let
no man stirre, or speake a word, except he be willing to loose his
life: for I intend not to rob the Duke of his faire friend, but to
expell the shame and dishonor that he hath offered to my Sister: no
one being so hardy as to returne him any answer. Aboord went
Constantine with his consorts, and sitting neere to the Lady, who
wrung her hands, and wept bitterly; he commaunded the Mariners to
launch forth, flying away on the wings of the winde, till about the
breake of day following, they arrived at Melasso. There they tooke
landing, and reposed on shore for some few dayes, Constantine
labouring to comfort the Lady, even as if she had bene his owne
Sister, shee having good cause to curse her infortunate beauty.
Going aboord the Barke againe, within few dayes they came to
Setalia, and there fearing the reprehension of his father, and least
the Lady should be taken from him; it pleased Constantine to make
his stay, as in a place of no meane security. And (as before) after
much kinde behaviour used towards the Lady, without any meanes in
her selfe to redresse the least of all these great extremities, she
became more milde and affable, for discontentment did not a jot quaile
her.
While occurrences passed on in this manner, it fortuned, that Osbech
the King of Turky (who was in continuall war with the Emperour) came
by accident to Lajazzo: and hearing there how lasciviously Constantine
spent his time in Setalia, with a Lady which he had stolne, being
but weake and slenderly guarded; in the night with certaine well
provided ships, his men and he entred the town, and surprized many
people in their beds, before they knew of their enimies comming,
killing such as stood upon their defence against them, (among whom was
Constantine) and burning the whole Towne, brought their booty and
prisoners aboord their Shippes, wherewith they returned backe to
Lajazzo. Being thus come to Lajazzo, Osbech who was a brave and
gallant young man, upon a review of the pillage, found the faire Lady,
whom he knew to be the beloved of Constantine, because shee was
found lying on his bed. Without any further delay, he made choice of
her to be his wife; causing his nuptials to be honourably
solemnized, and many moneths he lived there in great joy with her.
But before occasions grew to this effect, the Emperour made a
confederacie with Bassano, King of Cappadocia, that hee should descend
with his forces, one way upon Osbech, and he would assault him with
his power on the other. But he could not so conveniently bring this to
passe, because the Emperour would not yeeld to Bassano, in any
unreasonable matter he demanded. Neverthelesse, when hee understoode
what had happened to his Sonne (for whom his greefe was beyond all
measure) hee graunted the King of Cappadociaes request; soliciting him
with all instancy, to be the more speedy in assayling Osbech. It was
not long, before hee heard of this conjuration made against him; and
therefore hee speedily mustered up all his forces, ere he would be
encompassed by two such potent kings, and marched on to meete the King
of Cappadocia, leaving his Ladie and Wife (for her safety) at Lajazzo,
in the custodie of a true and loyall Servant of his.
Within a short while after, he drew neere the Campe belonging to the
King of Cappadocia, where boldly he gave him battell; chancing therein
to be slaine, his Army broken and discomfited, by meanes whereof,
the King of Cappadocia remaining Conquerour, marched on towardes
Lajazzo, every one yeelding him obeysance all the way as he went. In
the meane space, the servant to Osbech, who was named Antiochus, and
