so dyed.
Our King (most Noble and vertuous Ladies) hath this day given us a
subject, very rough and stearne to discourse on, and so much the
rather, if we consider, that we are come hither to be merry and
pleasant, where sad Tragicall reports are no way suteable, especially,
by reviving the teares of others, to bedew our owne cheekes withall.
Nor can any such argument be spoken of, without moving compassion both
in the reporters, and hearers. But (perhaps) it was his Highnesse
pleasure, to moderate the delights which we have already had. Or
whatsoever else hath provoked him thereto, seeing it is not lawfull
for me, to alter or contradict his appointment; I will recount an
accident very pittifull, or rather most unfortinate, and well worthy
to be graced with bur teares.
Tancrede, Prince of Salerne (which City, before the Consulles of
Rome held dominion in that part of Italy, stoode free, and thence
(perchance) tooke the moderne title of a Principality was a very
humane Lord, and of ingenious nature; if, in his elder yeeres, he
had not soiled his hands in the blood of Lovers, especially one of
them, being both neere and deere unto him. So it fortuned, that during
the whole life time of this Prince, he had but one onely daughter
(albeit it had beene much better, if he had had at all) whom he so
choisely loved and esteemed, as never was any childe more deerely
affected of a Father: and so farre extended his over-curious respect
of her, as he would seldome admit her to be forth of his sight;
neither would he suffer her to marry, although she had outstept (by
divers yeeres) the age meete for marriage.
Neverthelesse, at length, he matched her with the Sonne to the
Duke of Capua, who lived no long while with her; but left her in a
widdowed estate, and then she returned home to her father againe.
This Lady, had all the most absolute perfections, both of favour and
feature, as could be wished in any woman, young, queintly disposed,
and of admirable understanding, more (perhappes) then was requisite in
so weake a body. Continuing thus in Court with the King her Father,
who loved her beyond all his future hopes; like a Lady of great and
glorious magnificence, she lived in all delights and pleasure. She
well perceiving, that her Father thus exceeding in his affection to
her, had no minde at all of re-marrying her, and holding it most
immodest in her, to solicite him with any such suite: concluded in her
mindes private consultations, to make choise of some one especiall
friend or favourite (if Fortune would prove so furtherous to her) whom
she might acquaint secretly, with her sober, honest, and familiar
purposes. Her Fathers Court being much frequented, with plentifull
accesse of brave Gentlemen, and others of inferiour quality, as
commonly the Courts of
Kings and Princes are, whose carriage and demeanor she very
heedfully observed. There was a young Gentleman among all the rest,
a servant to her Father, and named Cuiscardo, a man not derived from
any great descent by blood, yet much more Noble by vertue and
commandable behaviour, then appeared in any of the other, none pleased
her opinion, like as he did; so that by often noting his parts and
perfections, her affections being but a glowing sparke at first,
grew like a Bavin to take Rame, yet kept so closely as possibly she
could; as Ladies are warie enough in their love.
The young Gentleman, though poore, being neither blocke nor dullard,
perceived what he made no outward shew of, and understood himselfe
so sufficiently, that holding it no meane happinesse to be affected by
her, he thought it very base and cowardly in him, if he should not
expresse the like to her againe. So loving mutually (yet secretly)
in this maner, and she coveting nothing more, then to have private
conference with him, yet not daring to trust any one with so important
a matter; at length she devised a new cunning stratageme, to
compasse her longing desire, and acquaint him with her private
purpose, which proved to be in this manner. She wrote a Letter,
concerning what was the next day to be done, for their secret
meeting together; and conveying it within the joynt of an hollow Cane,
in jesting manner threw it to Guiscardo, saying; Let your man make use
of this, insteed of a paire of bellowes, when he meaneth to make
fire in your Chamber. Guiscardo taking up the Cane, and considering
with himselfe, that neither was it given, or the wordes thus spoken,
but doubtlesse on some important occasion: went unto his lodging
with the Cane, where viewing it respectively, he found it to be cleft,
and opening it with his knife, found there the written Letter
enclosed.
After he had reade it, and well considered on the service therein
concerned; he was the most joyfull man of the world, and began to
contrive his aptest meanes, for meeting with his gracious Mistresse,
and according as she had given him direction. In a corner of the Kings
Palace, it being seated on a rising hill, a cave had long beene made
in the body of the same hill, which received no light into it, but
by a small spiracle or vent-loope, made out ingeniously on the hils
side. And because it had not beene a long time frequented, by the
accesse of any body, that vent-light was over-growne with briars and
bushes, which almost engirt it round about. No one could descend
into this cave or vault, but only by a secret paire of staires,
answering to a lower Chamber of the Palace, and very neere to the
Princesse lodging, as being altogether at her command, by meanes of
a strong barred and defensible doore, whereby to mount or descend at
her pleasure. And both the cave it selfe, as also the degrees
conducting downe into it, were now so quite worne out of memory (in
regard it had not beene visited by any one in long time before) as
no man remembred that there was any such thing.
But Love, from whose bright discerning eies, nothing can be so
closely concealed, but at the length it commeth to light, had made
this amorous Lady mindefull thereof, and because she would not be
discovered in her intention, many dayes together, her soule became
perplexed; by what meanes that strong doore might best be opened,
before she could compasse to performe it. But after that she had found
out the way, and gone downe her selfe alone into the cave; observing
the loope-light and had made it commodious for her purpose, she gave
knowledge thereof to Guiscardo, to have him devise an apt course for
his descent, acquainting him truly with the height, and how farre it
was distant from the ground within. After he had found the
souspirall in the hils side, and given it a larger entrance for his
safer passage; he provided a Ladder of cords, with steppes
sufficient for his descending and ascending, as also a wearing sute
made of leather, to keepe his skinne unscrached of the thornes, and to
avoyde all suspition of his resorting thither. In this manner went
he to the saide loope-hole the night following, and having fastened
the one end of his corded ladder, to the strong stumpe of a tree being
by it; by meanes of the saide ladder, descended downe into the cave,
and there attended the comming of his Lady.
She, on the morrow morning, pretending to her waiting woman, that
she was scarsly well, and therefore would not be diseased the most
part of that day; commanded them to leave her alone in her Chamber,
and not to returne untill she called for them, locking the doore her
selfe for better security. Then opened she the doore of the cave,
and going downe the staires, found there her amorous friend Guiscardo,
whom she saluting with a chaste and modest kisse; causing him to
ascend up the stayres with her into her Chamber. This long desired,
and now obtained meeting, caused the two deerely affected Lovers, in
kinde discourse of amorous argument (without incivill or rude
demeanor) to spend there the most part of that day, to their hearts
joy and mutuall contentment. And having concluded on their often
meeting there, in this cunning and concealed sort; Guiscardo went
downe into the cave againe, the Princesse making the doore fast
after him, and then went forth among her Women. So in the night
season, Guiscardo ascended up againe by his Ladder of cords, and
covering the loopehole with brambles and bushes, returned (unseene
of any) to his owne lodging: the cave being afterward guilty of
their often meeting there in this manner.
But Fortune, who hath alwayes bin a fatall enemy to lovers stolne
felicities, became envious of their thus secret meeting, and overthrew
(in an instant) all their poore happinesse, by an accident most
spightfull and malicious. The King had used divers dayes before, after
dinner time, to resort all alone to his daughters Chamber, there
conversing with her in most loving manner. One unhappy day amongst the
rest, when the Princesse, being named Ghismonda, was sporting in her
private Garden among her Ladies, the King (at his wonted time) went to
his daughters Chamber, being neither heard or seene by any. Nor
would he have his daughter called from her pleasure, but finding the
windowes fast shut, and the Curtaines close drawne about the bed; he
sate downe in a chaire behind it, and leaning his head upon the bed,
his body being covered with the curtaine, as if he hid himselfe
purposely; he mused on so many matters, at last he fell fast asleepe.
It hath bin observed as an ancient Adage, that when disasters are
ordained to any one, commonly they prove to be inevitable, as poore
Ghismonda could witnesse too well. For while the King thus slept,
she having (unluckily) appointed another meeting with Guiscardo,
left hir Gentlewomen in the Garden, and stealing softly into her
Chamber, having made all fast and sure, for being descried by any
person: opened the doore to Guiscardo, who stood there ready on the
staire-head, awaiting his entrance; and they sitting downe on the
bed side (according as they were wont to do) began their usuall
kinde of conference againe, with sighes and loving kisses mingled
among them. It chanced that the King awaked, and both hearing and
seeing this familiarity of Guiscardo with his Daughter, he became
extreamly confounded with greefe thereat. Once he intended, to cry out
for have them both there apprehended; but he helde it a part of
greater wisedome, to sit silent still, and (if he could) to keepe
himselfe so closely concealed: to the end, that he might the more
secretly, and with farre lesse disgrace to himselfe, performe what
he had rashly intended to do.
The poore discovered Lovers, having ended their amorous
interparlance, without suspition of the Kings being so neere in
person, or any else, to betray their overconfident trust; Guiscardo
descended againe into the Cave, and she leaving the Chamber,
returned to her women in the Garden; all which Tancrede too well
observed, and in a rapture of fury, departed (unseene) into his owne
lodging. The same night, about the houre of mens first sleepe, and
according as he had given order; Guiscardo was apprehended, even as he
was comming forth of the loope-hole, and in his homely leather habite.
Very closely was he brought before the King, whose heart was swolne so
great with griefe, as hardly was he able to speake: notwithstanding,
at the last he began thus. Guiscardo . cardo, the love and respect I
have used towards thee, hath not deserved the shamefull wrong which
thou hast requited me withall, and as I have seene with mine owne eyes
this day. Whereto Guiscardo could answer nothing else, but onely this:
Alas my Lord! Love is able to do much more, then either you, or I.
Whereupon, Tancrede commanded, that he should be secretly well
guarded, in a neere adjoyning Chamber, and on the next day,
Ghismonda having (as yet) heard nothing hereof, the Kings braine being
infinitely busied and troubled, after dinner, and as he often had used
to do: he went to his daughters Chamber, where calling for her, and
shutting the doores closely to them, the teares trickling downe his
aged white beard, thus he spake to her.
Ghismonda, I was once grounded in a setled perswasion, that I truely
knew thy vertue, and honest integrity of life; and this beleefe
could never have beene altred in mee, by any sinister reports
whatsoever, had not mine eyes seene, and mine eares heard the
contrary. Nor did I so much as conceive a thought either of thine
affection, or private conversing with any man, but onely he that was
to be thy husband. But now, I my selfe being able to avouch thy folly,
imagine what an heart-breake this will be to me, so long as life
remaineth in this poore, weake, and aged body. Yet, if needes thou
must have yeelded to this wanton weaknesse, I would thou hadst made
choise of a man, answerable to thy birth and Nobility: whereas on
the contrary, among so many worthy spirits as resort to my Court, thou
likest best to converse with that silly young man Guiscardo, one of
very meane and base descent, and by me (even for Gods sake)
from his very youngest yeares, brought up to this instant in my
Court; wherein thou hast given me much affliction of minde, and so
overthrowne my senses, as I cannot well imagine how I should deale
with thee. For him, whom I have this night caused to be surprized,
even as he came forth of your close contrived conveyance, and
detaine as my prisoner, I have resolved how to proceed with him: but
concerning thy selfe, mine oppressions are so many and violent, as I
know not what to say of thee. e. way, thou hast meerly murthered the
unfeigned affection I bare thee, as never any father could expresse
more to his childe: and then againe, thou hast kindled a most just
indignation in me, by thine immodest and wilfull folly, and whereas
Nature pleadeth pardon for the one, yet justice standeth up against
the other, and urgeth cruell severity against thee: neverthelesse,
before I will determine upon any resolution, I come purposely first to
heare thee speake, and what thou canst say for thy selfe, in a bad
case, so desperate and dangerous.
Having thus spoken, he hung downe the head in his bosome, weeping as