decayed age and what more reeling and fickle than the constant inconstancy of his lacivious youth which make my thoughts justly feare and my heart truly presage and apprehend that repentance not pleasure affliction not joy misery not prosperity is at the heeles to attend and follow these their Nuptials As marke we the sequell and it will briefly informe us how De Merson hath not been married two whole moneths to La Vassellay but he begins to repent himselfe that ever he matched her for he now sees though before he would not that it is imposible for youth to fedge and sympathise with her age he sees that she hath a discrepit sickely and decayed body and that she is never free of the Cough and Rheume as also of an Issue in her left arme which is not only displeasing but loathsome to him Yea when she hath taken off her ruffe and head attier and dighted her selfe in her night habilements then he vowes he is afraid of her Lambe-skin furred cap and wast-coate and takes her withered face for a Vizard or a Commet which yeelds no delight but terror to his eyes swearing that he serves onely for a bed-pan to heat her frozen body which of it selfe is farre colder than a Marble Statue Yea he is so farre out of love with her because to write the truth he never truely loved her that her sight is a plague to him her presence by day a Purgatory and her company by neight a very Hell But deboshed and dissolute Gentleman these vitious and impious conceits of thine come immediatly from Hell and Sathan and are no way infused in thy thoughts by Heaven much lesse inspired in thy heart by God Consider consider with thy selfe that if La Vasselay be old yet she is now thy wife and that whatsoever De Praneau or her selfe informed thee of fiftie yeers yet thou knowest she could not be lesse than sixtie three and more she is not In which regard marriage the holy Institution of Heaven having now made you of two one if thou wilt not love her age at least thou shouldest reverence it or if thou canst not affect her thou shouldest not hate her Hath she imperfections what woman in the world lives without them or is shee Pestered with diseases who can be either exempted from them or prevent them Thou hast vowed in the Temple of the Lord and in the presence of him and his people not onely to love but to honour her and is thy inconstancy and impiety already such as forgetting that promise and vowe of thine thou dost now not onely dishonour but despise and contemne her and that thou onely madest that vow purposely to breake it O De Merson if thou art not capable of Counsel yet do but beleeve the truth and thou wilt find that if thou wilt not love her because she is too old to be thy wife yet thou shouldest respect and regard her because she is old enough to be thy Grandmother for as it is incivility not to reverence Age so it is impietie to disdaine and maligne it and if in any man towards a meere stranger how much more a husband to his owne wife And because it is easier to espy our wives imperfections than to finde out or reforme our owne if thy wife La Vasselay bee guiltie of any fault towards thee it is because shee loves thee too well and affects thee too dearely We have scene De Mersons distaste of his wife La Vasselay Let us now see how she likes or rather why she so soone dislikes him for he beares himselfe so strangely and withall so unkindly towards her as her desires of his youth comes farre short both of her expectation and hopes for if he lye with her one night hee wanteth six from her is still abroad and seldome or never at home with her yea hee is of such a gadding humour and ranging disposition as his thoughts and delights are transported elsewhere not at home with other young Dames of Mans not with herselfe and the vanity of his pleasures doe so farre surprize and captivate him that hee is already become so vitious as he makes day his night and night his day living rather like a volutupous Epicure than a temperate or Civill Christian Neither quoth she is it Iealousie but truth which makes her prie so narrowly into so lewd and lacivious actions wherein the further she wades the more cause she finds both of griefe and vexation which makes her wish that shee had beene blind when she first saw him and either he or her selfe in Heaven when they so unfortunately marryed each other here upon Earth How now fond and foolish olde Gentlewoman are thy joyes so soone converted into sorrowes and thy triumphs into teares why thou hast just cause to thanke none but thy selfe for these thy crosses and afflictions sith thy lustfull and lacivious desires were not onely the author but the procurer of them for hadst thou beene more modest and lesse wanton thou mightest have apparantly seene and providently fore-seene that De Mersons youth was too young for thy age because thy age was too old for his youth so that hadst thou beene then but halfe so stayed and wise as now thou art sorrowfull thou needest not now grieve for that which thou canst not redresse nor repent for that which is out of thy power to remedy But rash and inconsiderate woman how comes this to passe that thou art ready to entertaine jelousie when death stands ready to entertaine thee Could all the course of thy former youth be so happy not to be acquainted with this vice and doth now thy frozen age thinke it a vertue to admit and imbrace it Ay me I grieve to see thy folly and lament to understand thy madnesse in this kinde for what is Ielousie but the rage of our thoughts and braines the disturber of our peace and tranquility the enemy of our peace and happinesse the traitour of our judgement and undestanding the plague of our life the poyson of our hearts and the very bane and Canker of our soules Ielousie why it is the daughter of frenzie and the mother of madnesse it is a vice purposely sent from hell to make those wretched on earth who may live fortunate and happy and yet will not yea it is a vice which I know not whether it bee more easie to admit or difficult to expell being admitted But La Vasselay expell it thou must at least if thou thinke to live fortunate and not to die miserable Wert thou as young as aged thy Ielousie might have some colour and excuse in meeting with the censures of the world whereas now not deserving the one it cannot receive the other And as those women are both wise and happy who winke at the youthfull escapes of their husbands so thy Ielousie makes thee both meritorious and guilty of thy afflictions because thou wilt be so foolish to espy and so malicious to remember these of thine
Aunt Mellefanta her Father Seignior de Tores whose age contentment and joy lived chiefly in the youth prosperity and health of this his only child and daughter makes her will and desire herein to be his when not knowing any thing of the distast that had past betweene his daughter and the Baron of Sanctifiore or of his affection to the Lady Bertranna hee demanded of her when you are at Putzeole what shall become of the Baron of Sanctifiore to whom rather from her apâ—…strings than her heart she returnes this witty and speedy answer if Sanctifiore love me hee will then sometimes leave Naples and visit mee or if hee doe not I will not love him which reply of hers pleased her father so well that hee causeth her to fit up her apparell and bagage and within three daies after attended on by a chamber maid and a man of his sends her away to Putzeole in his coach to his sister Mellifanta where being arived shee speedily and privatly acquaints her aunt with this great secret of her great belly which so much imports her reputation or disgrace and also with all the circumstances thereof and so prayes her best love and assistance to her herein the which shee faithfully promiseth her adding withall that because shee is of her owne blood shee will regard and love her as her owne child telling her that shee highly commended her policy for thus blinding the eyes of her father and for leaving Naples to come lay downe her great belly with her in Putzeole yet shee could not chuse but blame her for the cause thereof in suffering her selfe to bee thus abused and betrayed by so base a Nobleman as the Baron of Sanctifiore but then againe shee excuseth that errour of this her neece upon the freshnes of her youth and beauty and bids her feare nothing but to resolve to bee here cheerfull couragious and merry with her Here we see our beautifull Vrsina safe at Putzeole under the wings and protection of her aunt Mellifanta and far of from the eyes of the knowne or suspected rejoycing enemies of her disgrace lodged in a dainty house a delicate a yre having variety of curious sweet gardens and dainty ranckes and groves of orenge and lemon trees to walke in well attended on and fâ—…ing most delitiously and who therefore would beleeve that shee would not now quite abandon her former sorrowes and teares and wholly reject and cast of that base Baron of Sanctifiore who so ingratfully had ruined and so treacherously had first forsaken and rejected her but here in Putzeole wee shall see her performe nothing lesse for although she yet hold him to bee intangled in the lures of Bertrannas beauty and the temptations of her father de Tores wealth yet judging his heart and affections by her owne and measuring him by her selfe shee still loves him so dearely that she neverthelesse beleeves hee cannot hate her so deadly as to reject and repundiate her to marry the said Bertranna when the more to fortifie her beleefe and resolution thereof she very often againe reads over his two former letters which wee have heard and seene and therein finding that by his conscience and soule and by heaven and by God hee had bound himselfe to marry her and to love and die her faithfull husband shee then beleeves that no man much lesse a Nobleman and least of all a christian will bee so prophane and impious without any cause or reason to violate all these his great oathes and promises so deeply made and so religiously attested unto God wherefore although this Baron of Sanctifiore were absent from her yet seeing him still present in her eyes and heart shee therefore in consideration of the promises doth yet continually so plead for him against her selfe and for his affection and fidelity to her against her suspition and disfidence of him that she yet flatters her selfe with a conceit that in the end his conscience will so call home his thoughts and God his conscience that hee will marry her selfe and none but her selfe Againe consiâ—…ng him to be the Father of her unborne babe shee thinkes her selfe a very unkind and unnaturall mother if shee should not love him for her childs sake as well as for his owne and that God would neither blesse her nor her burthen it shee should any way neglect or omit him upon the foundations of which reasons truely and courteously laid by her but so falsly and treacherously by him shee thinkes it a good way and an excellent expedient for her to seeke to reclaime him to her by a letter the proofe whereof since his defection from her she had not as yet practised or experienced but as shee began to fall on this resolution her hope and despaire of Sanctifiore and yet her love and affection to him make her meet and fall on a doubtfull scruple whether shee should write kindly or cholerickly to him but at last her affection to him declining and excusing his infidelity to her and her love and courtesie giving a favourable construction to his cruelty towards her shee holds it more behouefull for her desire his returne to write to him passionately and effectually but not harshly or severely and so to take the sweet and faire way which shee desired but not the sharp and bitter which hee deserved when flying to her closet she full of griefe and teares writes him this ensuing letter the which without the knowledge of her Aunt Mellifanta shee sends him to Naples by her trusty menssenger Sebastiano her Fathers coachman VRSINA to SANCTIFIORE TO preserve thine honour and prevent mine owne disgrace and shame I have left Naples to sojourne here for a time in Putzeole with the Lady Mellifanta mine aunt where thy presence will make mee as truly joyfull and happie as I feele and know my selfe infinitly miserable without it For although of late but for what cause or reason God knowes I knowe not it hath pleased thee to excercise my affection and patience in thy discontent yet in regard I am thy wife by purchase sith thou art my Husband by promise whereof the copies of thy former letters will informe and remember thee that thou madest God the judge and the soule and consciences the witnesses I cannot beleeve that thou art so irreligious or that thou bearest mee so little love or so much malice to make thy selfe guilty of such foule infidelity to mee and impiety towards God and I appeale to them all if my tender untainted affection to thee have not every way deserved the contrary at thy hands Againe as in hoping to marry thee I gave thee my heart so in assurance and counfidence thereof thou didest likewise bereave mee of my honour and therefore if the conterpane of that contract doe anyway fade or dye in thy memory yet rest confident that the Originall lives still in Heaven as the pledge and seale thereof doth now in my unhappie wombe here on earth mistake mee not
implacable towards her she abandoneth her sighes and teares resolves to make triall of a contrary experiment so under a femall face assuming a masculine courage and resolution shee sleights him and his jealousie as much as hee doth her and her levity and beares her selfe more highly and imperiously towards him than ever shee did heretofore but this animosity of Bellinda produceth not that good effect which hee expects from her husband De Mora for hee attributing this pride of hers to proceed from some bad counsell given her by minion Palura it doth the more inflame his jealousie and exasperate and set fire to his indignation both towards her and him Whiles Bellinda stands upon these tearms with her husband De Mora his braines as so many wheeles and spheares are incessantly rolling and wheeling about the Orbe of jealousie to find out the marrow and mystery of this lascivious league betweene his wife and Palura in the agitation and conduction whereof hee is as secret as shee simple and inconsiderate his policie is to find ouâ—… any letter or letters of Palura to her and her closet and casket are the only places as hee supposeth for her to hide and conceale them in So on a munday morning as his Lady Bellinda is gon to the parish Church to heare masse hee purposely staies at home to effect this his secret intent and purpose and then very privately enters her chamber and his jealousie makes him so industrious of lock-smithes hookes and instruments to open any locke So hee first resolves to try and open that of her closet which when he was on the very point to doe casting aside his eye hee sees the tawny Damaske gowne which his wife wore the day before wherefore hee flies to it to search and rifle the pockets thereof for her keyes Now Bellinda's hast and devotion to the Church was so great as both shee and her waiting Gentlewoman had forgotten the keyes of her closet and cabinet and left them in one of the pockets of her said gowne where her husband De Mora finds them whereat being exceeding joyfull hee claps up his hooks and instruments and with equall jealousie and haste opens first her closet then her cabinet wherein leaving nothing unsearched hee at last finds the very same letter of Palura to his wife Bellinda which wee have foâ—…merly seene and understood the which as the richest relique of her heart and the most pretious jewell of her content and affection shee had secretly enshrined and treasured up in a small crimson sattin purse embroydered with gold Hee reads it over againe and againe but for that which said I shall thinke every moment a moneth and every houre a yeare before wee againe kisse and embrace this line I say his extreme jealousie makes him to read over at least as often as it hath sillables for this letter and this branch of this letter confirmes his jealousie and now makes him fully assured and confident that his wife and Palura have defiled his honour and his bed by committing adultery together when vowing a sharp and speedy revenge hereof hee with a panting heart and trembling hand laies the velvet purse againe in the cabynet then lockes it as also her closet and chamber doore having first left the keyes againe in the pocket of his Ladies gowne and so comes downe into the Hall among his servants as if hee were happie to know that which it is his misery because hee cannot be ignorant thereof By this time his wife the Lady Bellinda is returned from Church hee dines with her and yet hee cannot dissemble his discontent and malice against her so artificially but that shee observes some distemper in his lookes and extravagancie in his speeches but such is her pride as shee is no way either curious oâ—… carefull thereof nor as much as once surmiseth of what hee had now performed and acted Dinner being ended as soone as she betakes her selfe to walke in the allies and arbours of her delicate garden her husband De Mora and his jealous and bloody resolutions are walking a contrary way he is so netled with jealousie and stung to the heart with malice and revenge as he ascends to his armoury takes downe an excellent sword and belt a case of pocket pistols each whereof hee chargeth with two bullets cals for Emmanuell de Ferallo his Ladies Gentleman-usher who was a very proper young man both of his person and hands bids him to cause two of his best great sadle horses speedily to be made ready wils him to accompany him to the towne of Arraiallos Ferallo performes this order of his Lord and then tels him that hee will goe into the garden and acquaint his Lady and mistris with his absence and to receive her commands before his departure but his Lord commands him to the contrary and neither to see or speake with her so they take horse and away Now within halfe an houre after the Lady Bellinda returnes from the garden and understanding of their departure who in regard of the suddaynesse and unexpectation thereof knowes not what to say or thinke thereof or whither or about what busines they are gon but shee neither once dreames nor conceives so much as a thought that her husband De Mora had found her sweet-heart Palura's letter much lesse that hee had any malitious or disparate attempt so suddainly to put in execution against him for her regard and cause as to ride to Arraiallos to him to fight with him The youth and beauty of his young wife and Lady Bellinda arming him with jealousie and this jealousie with irreconcilable malice and revenge against Palura hee cruelly resolving to make his body and life pay deare for it rides away towards his house neere Arraiallos and staying some halfe aquarter of a league from it in a faire greene meddow sends him man Ferallo to him and praies him speedily to take his horse and come speake with him there about a busines which much imports his good Ferallo knowing least of this quarrell whereof his Lord and master De Mora thought most finds out Don Palura at his house and in faire and respectfull tearms delivereth him his message which Palura understanding his guilty conscience makes him exceedingly to doubt wonder of De Mora's intention resolution herein but his lustfull heart affections looking more on the young Lady Bellinda the wife than on the old Lord De Mora her husband hee speedily without any servant of his takes horse and rides away with Ferallo to him in the meddow where De Mora on horse-backe impatiently attended his comming Salutations being here ended betweene them which Palura observes in De Mora to bee more short than ceremonious and more abrupt than respectfull De Mora cals his man Ferallo to him and privately commands him to ride a meddow or two off and not to dare offer either to stirre or draw whatsoever hee see passe betwixt him and Palura the which his man
searched they at last in their hookes bring up some pieces of wrought blacke Taffeta which by the Lackey was affirmed and knowne to be the same his Master Gasparino wore the last time he saw him whereat they were more eagerly encouraged to search againe most exactly which they doe and at last bring up the dead body of Gasparino when stripping off his cloths they find his body pierced with thirteene severall wonuds at the mournefull sight whereof the whole assembly but especially his Lackey cannot refraine from teares and yet all glorify God for finding of his body as also for the discovery of the Murtherers who now they confidently believe are Bianco and Brindoli But see the farther mercies of God for Bianco and Brindoli are but the hands which executed this Murther and not the head which plotted it therefore the Magistrates being sure of them doe now resolve to hye to Prison and to give them double torment thereby to discover out of what Quiver the first arrow of this Murther came But behold the mercy and justice of God! they are eased of this labour and the name of the malefactour brought them by a most miraculous and unheard of accident for when the Magistrates and whole company had often visited Gasparino's naked body and seene nothing but wounds a little boy standing by of some ten yeares of age espyed a linnen cloth in his mouth which hee shewed the company which the Prefect causing to be pulled out found it to be a Cambricke Handkercher and withall a name in red silke Letters in one corner which was the very true name of Christeneta See see the goodnesse O let us stand amazed and wonder at the mercies of God to see what meanes and instruments hee ordayneth for the discovery of Murthers The Prefect and Provost send away speedily to apprehend her shee is taken in the midst of her pleasures and pastimes yea from the arme of her Mother and feete of her Father to whom shee fled for safety but in vaine for shee is instantly committed close Prisoner from whence wee shall not see her come foorth till she come to her condigne punishment on a shamefull Scaffold for this her horrible offence of Murther And now the Prefect and Provost goe themselves to the prison where Bianco and Brindoli are they accuse them peremptorily for the Murther of Gasparino whose body they informe them they have taken up out of the Well but they againe denye it They give them double torment and conjure them to reveale this their Murther but they are so strong of courage or rather the devill is so strong in them as they denye all and neither accuse themselves nor any other The Prefect and Provost although they saw all circumstances concurre that undoubtedly Christeneta had a deepe hand in this Murther yet they examine her fairely and promise her much favour and their best friendship and assistance if shee will reveale it but she as her two confederates denyes all They adjudge her to the Racke whereunto she very patiently permits her selfe to bee fastened but her dainty body and delicate limbes cannot indure the cruelty of this torment and so shee confesseth all that in revenge of Pisani's death shee had caused Bianco and Brindoli to murther him in the Nunnes garden as we have formerly understood And now comes Gods sentence from heaven pronounced against these Murtherers by the mouth of his Magistrates on earth who for reparation and expiation of their horrible crimes of Murther committed on Gasparino adjudge Bianco and Brindoli to have their right handes cut off then to bee hanged and their bodies throwne into the River Po And Christeneta notwithstanding all the sollicitation which her father and friends made for her to be first hanged then burned and her ashes throwne into the ayre Which to the full satisfaction of Iustice before an infinite number of Spectators who assisted at their mournefull ends was accordingly executed who yet could not refraine from teares but as much approved and applauded Christeneta's affection to Pisani as they detested and abhorred her inhumane and bloody revenge to Gasparino Bianco and Brindoli as they lived unrighteously so they dyed desperately and could not be drawn to repent themselves of this their bloudy fact But as I have understood Christeneta was extreamely sorrowfull for her sinnes but especially for this murther whereof at her last breath shee infinitely and exceedingly repented her selfe yea I have beene informed that shee delivered a godly and religious speech upon the Ladder but I was not so fortunate to recover it May all true Christians reade this History with profit and profit in reading it that so God may receive the glory and their soules the eternall comfort and consolation Amen GODS REVENGE AGAINST THE CRYING AND EXEcrable sinne of Murther HISTORIE III. Mortaigne under promise of marriage gets Iosselina with child and after converting his love into hatred causeth his Lackey La Verdure and La Palma to murther both her and her young sonne the jealousy of Isabella to her husband La Palma is the cause of the discovery hereof they are all three taken and executed for the same IT is a just reward for the vanity of our thoughts and a true recompence for the errours of our youth that wee buy pleasure with repentance and the sweetnesse of sinne with the bitternesse of affliction but if wee violate the Lawes of Christianity and abandon our selves to lust and fornication then we shall see with shame that men will not pitty us and finde with griefe that God will punish us It is an excellent vertue in Maydens not to listen to the lewd temptations of men and in men not to hearken to the sugered charmes of the devil for commonly that folly gives the one shame and this madnesse brings the other destruction but if we first forget our selves and then our God by adding and heaping sinne upon sinne as first to perpetrate fornication and after Murther then assuredly our estate is so miserably wretched and so wretchedly miserable as we have no hope left for better fortunes nor place for worse And because Example is both pleasing to our memory and profitable to our judgement this mournefull ensuing History shall make good and confirme it to us therefore let us shut the doore of our thoughts against the power of sinne and that of our hearts against the malice of Hell and wee shall not onely make our fortunes immoveable in this World but our felicity eternall in that to come In the South-east part of France within a dayes journey of the famous City of Lyons at the foote of the Mountaine of Tarara upon the border and bosome of that sweet River Lignon so famoused by the Minion of honour and the darling of the Muses the Marquesse of Vrse in his beautifull and divine Astrea neere Durency a certaine small Village there dwelt a poore Country Farmer named Andrew Mollard who of late burying his Wife had one only child left
unkind father I may well tearme my selfe unfortunate sith I no sooner lost mine honour but my father who for his displeasure of my shame and folly gave all his meanes from me which before right and nature had promised mee and I may justly terme your sonne Mortaigne unkind sith hee not onely refuseth to marry mee but also to allow maintenance either for my selfe or his child It is therefore to you wanting and despairing of all other meanes friends and hopes that with many blushes and teares I presume to acquaint you with the poverty of my fortune and the richnesse of my misery the which I humbly request you both to pitie and relieve at least if you will not that your sonne may who is the cause thereof my love to him hath not deserved your hatred to me and therefore in excusing my folly or rather if you please my youth I hope you will be so charitable to the poore babe my son that I shall not want for his sake nor he for his fathers or if yot will frowne and not smile on mee but rather triumph to see me languish and faint under the burthen of my poverty yet vouchsafe to excuse his innocency though you condemne mine errour and so if I must dye miserably at least let mee carry this one content to my grave that I may bee sure hee shall live happy Nature cannot deny this Charity and Grace will not excuse that cruelty IOSSELINA Whiles Iosselina flatters her selfe with hope that these Letters will procure her her desire and comfort Mortaigne and Calintha his mother receive them As for Mortaigne hee like a base Gentleman whose curtesy was now turned into inhumanity as much triumpheth in his owne sinne as rejoyceth in Iosselina's foolish ambition and poverty It is a felicity to him to thinke that hee hath abused her youth and betrayed her chastity and therefore hee now respecteth her so little or rather dis-respecteth her so much as her shame is his glory her misery his happinesse and her affliction his content yea hee no more thinks of her but with disdaine and envy for the beauty Varina hath quite defaced and blotted out that of Iosselina neither doth this cruelty of Mortaigne end in her but it beginnes in the pretty babe his sonne for he so farre degenerateth from the lawes and principles of Nature as hee not onely hates the Mother for the childes sake but the child for his mothers sake yea hee is so farre from giving either of them maintenance or both content as hee scornes the Mother and will no way either owne or relieve the child and so burning his Letter and forgetting the contents thereof hee very ingratefully and cruelly resolves to answer it with silence and this is the best comfort which Iosselina and the poore young babe her sonne receive from Mortaigne But I feare the worst is to come If Iosselina and her babe receive such dis-respect and inhumanity from Mortaigne it is to bee feared and doubted that they will meet with little better from his Mother Calintha who no sooner received and read her letter but full of wrath and indignation shee in disdaine throwes it away from her yea her discontent and malice is so inflamed against Iosselina and her child as fearing it may prove a blurre and blocke to Mortaigne's marriage with Varina shee not onely refuseth to relieve them but is so cruell and inhumane as shee wisheth them both in another World as unworthy to live in this but her choller is too passionate and her passions too unaturall and cruell for if shee would not relieve Iosselina whom her sonne Mortaigne had abused yet in pitty yea in nature shee should have taken order for the maintenance of the child whom her sonne had begotten for if the Mother had deserved her hatred yet this poore babe was innocent thereof and rather merited her compassion then her envy or at least if there had beene any sparke of humanity grace or good nature in her if shee would not have beene seene courteous and harbarous to them her selfe yet shee might dispence with her sonne and winke if hee had performed it But nothing lesse for her malice is so great and her rage so outragious and unreasonable as shee refuseth it her selfe and commands him to the contrary so as being once resolute not to cast away so much time to returne Iosselina an answer shee at last in a humour wherein disdaine triumphed over pitty and inhumanity over charity calls for pen and paper and returnes her this bitter and cruell answer CALINTHA to IOSSELINA HAving beene so gracelesse to abuse my sonne I wonder how thou darest be so impudent as to offend mee with thy Letter the which I had once thought rather to have burnt then read but I finde it not strange that being defective of thy body thou art so of thy iudgement to thinke that sith thine owne father gave all from thee that I who am a meere stranger to thee as I wish thou hadst beene to my sonne should afford or give thee any thing neither doth this resolution of mine proceed from contempt but charity for as thou art a woman I pitty thee but as a strumpet hold it no pity to relieve thee Now then despairing of any hope for thy selfe thou pleadest for thy brat but sith he is the object of thy shame as thou art that of my sonne and withall the cause why should I looke on the child with compassion sith I neither can nor will see the mother but with disdaine and envy Thou complainest of thy misfortune and misery without considering that the Starres and Horoscope of thy base birth never pointed thee out for so high an estate as of a clownes daughter to become a Gentlemans wife but thou must adde ambition to thy dishonesty as if one of these two Vices were not enough powerfull to make thee miserable Thou doest likewise taxe my sonne of unkindnesse towards thee without considering that hiâ—… love to thee hath beene cruelty to himselfe for as thou art like to buy his familiarity with teares so for ought I know may hee thine with repentance if thou expect any comfort thou must hopâ—… for no other then this that as my sonne disdaines to marry thee so doe I that either my selfe 〈◊〉 he relieve thee looke then on thy selfe with shame on thy child with repentance whiles my sonne and I will remember yee both with contempt but neither with pitty CALINTHA Poore Iosselina having received and perused Calintha's Letter and seeing withall Mortaigne so in humane as hee disdaines to write to her for meere griefe and sorrow shee with her Babe at her brest falls to the ground in a swoone and had not the noyse thereof advertised those in the next roome to come to her assistance shee had then and there ended her misery with her life and not afterwards lived to see and indure so many sharpe afflictions and lamentable wants and misfortunes Alas Alas she hath
giving over his sute to her as hee continueth it with more earnestnesse and importunity and vowes that hee will forsake his life ere his Mistresse but sometimes wee speake true when wee thinke wee jest yet hee findes her one and the same for although shee were not yet acquainted with Alsemero yet shee made it the thirteenth Article of her Creed that the supreame power had ordained her another husband and not Piracquo yea at that very instant the remembrance of Alsemero quite defaced that of Piracquo so that shee wholly refus'd her heart to the last of purpose to reserve and give it to the first as the sequell will shew Now by this time Vermandero had notice and was secretly informed of Alsemero's affection to his daughter and withall that shee liked him farre better then Piracquo which newes was indeed very distastefull and displeasing to him because hee perfectly knew that Piracquo's meanes farre exceed that of Alsemero Whereupon considering that hee had given his consent and in a manner ingaged his promise to Piracquo hee to prevent the hopes and to frustrate the attempts of Alsemero leaves his Castle to the command of Don Hugo de Valmarino his son and taking his daughter Beatrice-Ioana with him hee in his Coach very sodainely and secretly goes to Briamata a faire house of his tenne leagues from Alicant where hee meanes to sojourne untill hee had concluded and solemnized the match betwixt them But hee shall never bee so happy as to see it effected At the newes of Beatrice-Ioana's departure Alsemero is extreamely perplexed and sorrowfull knowing not whether it proceed from her selfe her father or both yea this his griefe is augmented when hee thinkes on the suddennesse thereof which hee feares may bee performed for his respect and consideration the small acquaintance and familiari y hee hath had with her makes that hee cannot condemne her of unkindnesse yet sith hee was not thought worthy to have notice of her departure hee againe hath no reason to hope much lesse to assure himselfe of her affection towards him hee knowes not how to resolve these doubts nor what to thinke or doe in a matter of this nature and importance for thus hee reasoneth with himselfe if hee ride to Briamata he may perchance offend the father if he stay at Alicant displease the daughter and although he be rather willing to run the hazzard of his envy then of her affection yet hee holds it safer to bee authorised by her pleasure and to steere his course by the compasse of her commands Hee therefore bethinkes himselfe of a meanes to avoyd these extreames and so findes out a Channell to passe free betwixt that Sylla and this Carybdis which is to visit her by letters hee sees more reason to embrace then to reject this invention and so providing himselfe of a confident messenger his heart commands his pen to signifie her these few lines ALSEMERO to BEATRICE-IOANA AS long as you were in Alicant I deemed it a beaven upon earth and being bound for Malta a thousand times blessed that contrary winde which kept mee from embarking and sayling from you yea so sweetly did I affect and so dearely honour your beauty as I entered into a resâ—…lution with my selfe to end my voyage e're I beganne it and to beginne another which I feare will end mee If you demand or desire to know what this second voyage is know faire Mistressâ—… that my thoughts are so honourable and my affection so religious that it is the seeking of your favour and the obtayning of your selfe to my wife whereon not onely my fortunes but my life depends But how shall I hope for this honour or flatter my selfe with the obtaining of so great a felicity when I see you have not onely left mee but which is worse as I understand the City for my sake Fâ—…ire Beatrice-Ioana if your cruelty will make me thus miserable I have no other consolation left me to sweeten the bitternesse of my griefe and misfortune but a confident hope that death will as speedily deprive mee of my dayes as you have of my joyes ALSEMERO I know not whether it more grieved Beatrice-Ioana to leave Alicant without taking her leave of Alsemero then shee doth now rejoyce to receive this his Letter for as that plunged her thoughts in the hell of discontent so this raiseth them to the heaven of joy and as then shee had cause to doubt of his affection so now she hath not not onely reason to flatter but to assure her selfe thereof and therefore though shee will not seeme at first to grant him his desire yet shee is resolved to returne him an answere that may give as well life to his hopes as praise to her modestie Her Letter is thus BEATRICE-IOANA to ALSEMERO AS I have many reasons to bee incredulous and not one to induce mee to beleeve that so poore a beautie of mine should have power to stop so brave a Cavallier as your selfe from ending so honourable a Voyage as your first or to perswade you to one so simple as your second so I cannot but admire that you in your Letter seeke mee for your Wife when in your heart I presume you least desire it and whereas you alledge your life and fortunes depend on my favour I thinke you write it purposely either to make tryall of your owne wit or of my indiscretion by endeavoring to see whether I will beleeve that which exceeds all beliefe now as it true that I haue left Alicant so it is as true that I left it not any way to afflict you but rather to obey my father for this I pray beleeve that although I cannot be kinde yet I will never bee cruell to you Live therefore your owne friend and I will never dye your enemy BEATRICE-IOANA This Letter of Beatrice Ioana gives Alsemero much dispaire and little hope yet though hee have reason to condemne her unkindnesse hee cannot but approve her modestie and discretion which doth as much comfort as that afflict him so his thoughts are irresolute and withall so variable as hee knowes not whether hee should advance his hand or withdraw his penne againe to write to his Mistresse But at last knowing that the excellencie of her Beautie and the dignitie of her Vertues deserve a second Letter he hoping it may obtaine and effect that which his first could not calls for paper and thereon traceth these few lines ALSEMERO to BEATRICE-IOANA YOu have as much reason to assure your selfe of my affection as I to doubt of yours and if Words and Letters Teares and Vowes are not capable to make you beleeve the sinceritie of my zeale and the honour of my affection what resteth but that I wish you could dive as deeply into my heart as my heart hath into your beautie to the end you might bee both Witnesse and Iudge if under heaven I desire any thing so much on earth as to bee crowned with the felicitie to see Beatrice-Ioana my
she but fifteen but more in qualities and conditions for he was by nature perverse and chollericke but she milde courteous and gracious Againe they differed much in the lineaments and proportion of their bodies for Alexandro like his Father was short crook-backt and hard-favour'd and Perina resembling her mother tall straight-wasted and faire so as it being a principle and Maxime in Nature that parents for the most part love those Children best who best resemble them as the mother Eleanora preferr'd Perina in her affection before Alexandro so contrariwise their father Arconeto did Alexandro before Perina But as God had called Eleanora out of this life and left her husband Arconeto to survive her so Alexandro's joy prov'd his sister Perina's miseâ—…y and affliction for he was so happy to see himself tenderly cherished and affected and she so unfortunate to perceive her selfe slighted and disrespected of her father wherein as I praise Arconeto's intimate love to his sonne so I cannot but discommend and withall pitty his immerited and unnatural neglect to his daughter wherein as Alexandro triumphed in the one judge judicious Reader if Perina had not cause enough to grieve and lament at the other But as the drift and scope of this History looks another way so for my part who have uâ—…dertaken to pen it it is the least of my intent 〈◊〉 purpose to give instructions and direction how parents should beare themselves in their affections towards their children onely because I may not here too palpably bewray mine ignorance in my silence I hope nay I am confident that with as much truth aâ—… safety I may conclude it is a happinesse both for parens and children where parents beare their affâ—…ctions equally to their children for loving one and hating another the joy of the one proves oftentimes the others sorrow and in giving that too mucâ—… hope we many times administer this too much cause of despaire or if the inclinations and affâ—…ctions of parents be more narrowly tyed and strictly linked to preferre and love one child above the other yet sith they are the equall issue of their loynes and wee the onely parents of their youth wee should bee as well cautious in the distribution of our favors a in the demonstration of our disrespects towards them But enough of this digression and now againe to our Hâ—…story As Alexandro growes up in yeares so he doth in ambition and ostentation for if he play the Bravâ—…sho abroad among Gentlemen and Ladies so authorizd by his fathers hatred of his sister he at home becomes a petty tyrant to her yea his carriage is so sterne and imperious towards her as if she were rather his slave then his sister or his laundres and hand-mayd then any part of himselfe which notwithstanding it was both a daily griefe to her heart and a continuall torment to her thoughts yet Perina's sweet perfections and gracious vertues and behavior make her digest and brook all with wonderfull constancie and an admirable patience for wel she knowes that if she should complain 〈◊〉 her father of her brothers unkindnes towards her she should thereby reape no other remedy and redresse but this that the one would laugh and the other triumph thereat and that the issue therof would proove her complaints to be the May game of the one and mocking-stock of the other But God hath ordayned briefly to ease her of a great part of her undeserved discontents and afflictions for lo her brother Alexandro debauching and surfeting at a Banquet at Susa returnes home surprised of a hot pestilent Fever which notwithstanding the care of his Father or the art of his expertest Physicians hee in three dayes is taken out of this life And now guided by the light of nature and the instinct of common sense and reason who would not surmise or thinke but that Arconeto having buryed his sonne Alexandro should now love his onely daughter and child Perina farre dearer and tenderer then before But alas nothing lesse for hee is not so kinde and therefore shee cannot be so happy yea which is worse although his words be her commands and his pleasure her law yet hee contemnes both her and her obedience and never lookes on her with love and affection but still with disdaine and envie yea in a word his distast is so extreame and bitter against her as hee is never best pleased then when shee is furthest from him so as her absence may delight and content him but her presence cannot Which unnaturall disrespect and unjust cruelty of her father towards her doth so nip the joyes of her youth and the blossomes of her health and beauty as poore young Gentlewoman she becomes infinite melancholly and extreme weake and sickly which being observed and pittyed of all her kinsfolkes and friends as being her Fathers onely child and heire to all his Lands and Riches an Aunt of hers being her mothers sister and likewise her God-mother termed the Lady Dominica a Widow-woman of the same City workes so with her brother in law Arconeto that hee is content to permit his daughter Perina to reside and dwell with her whereat as the Aunt is not a little glad so the Neece beyond measure infinitely rejoyceth and triumphs thereat both hoping that her absence may and will procure her fathers affection which her presence could not and that having more liberty and lesse bondage shee might againe in a short time recover her former health and content or else that God out of his divine providence and pleasure in heaven might call and allot her out some gallant Husband here on earth with whom in the contents and pleasures of Marriage shee might end her future dayes in as much tranquillity and felicity as she had formerly lived in discontent and affliction and indeed the events though not in the first yet in the two last poynts answereth their expectations The Lady Dominica hath formerly contracted a Daughter of hers named Dona Bertha to a Cavallier of the City of Nice termed Seignior Bartholomeâ—… Spelassi by descent noble and of good revennues and wealth And now the appoynted time is come for their Marriage to which end up comes Spelassi from Nice to Saint Iohn de Mauriene assisted and followed by many gallant young Gentlemen of his kinsfolks and friends and in a word with a Trayne well befitting his ranke and quality where these Nuptialls are solemnized with great variety of pompe and pleasure as Feasting Dancing Masks Running at the Ring and the like for in these amorous and Court-like Revels the Savoyards as participating both of the French and Italian humours take a singular delight and felicity But as many times one Wedding occasioneth and produceth another so Fortune or to speake more properly and truely God ordayned that the Lady Dominica appoynted her Neece Perina to conduct the Bride-groome her Sonne in law Spelassi to the Church and hee had allotted one of the noblest and eminent Cavalliers that came with him named
drowne thy thoughts in the hell of concupiscence and adultery when it were farre fitter thou shouldest lift them up to heaven in the sacrifice of prayer and other pious and religious contemplations But all this will not prevaile to stop the current of his voluptuousnesse and the progression of his sensuality for without respect of his God or regard of his soule hee is resolute in his desires to make a strumpet of his Daughter in Law and to make his Sonnes wife his whore but God will deceive his hopes and prevent his villany Now the better and sooner to drawe her to his lascivious desires hee is wonderfull courteous and affable to her still walking and talking with her yea and many times kissing her whereof both her Husband and selfe are infinitely joyfull but espeally Perina because shee findes a great alteration in her fortune in that her Father in Law Castelnovo proves as courteous to her as her owne Father Arconeto is cruell But poore innocent soule and sweet and chast Lady little dost thou either dreame oâ—… thinke on his lascivious intent against thine honour and chastity Old Castelnovo wallowing in the filthinesse and burning in the fire of his new lust and losing himselfe and his thoughts in the Labyrinth of his Daughter in law Perina's beauty hee thinkes on nothing so much nay on nothing else but how to obtaine her to his lascivious will but not daring or rather fearing to acquaint her with his inordinate and beastly purpose whiles his son her husband is at home present with her he forgeth and frames a plot both unnaturall and treacherous to make him imbrace and follow the Wars in wayting on the Duke Charles Emanuel or the Prince Amadee Victor his son and heire who with their warlike troopes were resolute to expell the Duke of Feria Viceroy of Millan with his Spanish Regiments out of Vercele Casall and the other Townes of Piedmont to which end his lustful affection to Perina made him eloquent in perswading and powerfull in drawing her husband to this Martiall action so full of honour and glory adding that his honour and the service of his Prince and Countrey called him to the Field and that he should not wholly drowne himselfe in the beauty of his young Wife and the pleasures of Marriage His sonne Castelnovo not at all suspecting or dreaming what a dangerous Snake lay lurking under the greene leaves of his fathers sugered speeches and perswasions like a noble and generous Knight as he was needes no other advocate but his owne honour and Martiall disposition to imbaâ—…ke him in these Warres and although the beauty requests and teares of his young Lady were vehement sollicitours to divert him yet hee is resolute to leave her for three or foure moneths And so making ready his armes traine horses and preparatives hee giving her many kisses and shee returning him a world of sighes and teares leaves Nice and so findes out the Duke and his Army in Piedmont where for a little time we will leave him It is a question very disputable and which by my weake capacity and judgemt cannot well bee decided whether this departure of young Custelnovo to the Warres made his father more glad or his wife sorrowfull for as shee was all in teares so was hee in mirth and jollity being so vaine in his lust and sâ—… lustfull in his vanity as 〈◊〉 trimmes up his beard and goes nearer and withall more youthfull in his apparell then accustomed yea his lust had so metamorphosed him as if it had a prophane influence and secret power to renew old age in him But alas alas what perfection of chastity can wee expect or hope for in youth when wee see no better signes and frâ—…s in one of threescore and eight yeares But I will follow the streame of our History though indeed the relation of this old lascivious Lechers Lust and Vanity to his daughter in law Perina equally afflict me with griefe and pitty to publish it I am then constrained to write and averre that although meere shame and unnaturalnesse doe as yet with-hold this wretched fathers tongue from vomiting foorth his adulterated lust to his faire and chast daughter in law Perina yet his lust is so immodestly lascivious as hee cannot keepe himselfe out of her company nor being in it refraine from kissing her but to see the innocencie and observe the purity of her thoughts shee neverthelesse not so much as any way suspects or dreames of his lascivious intent although indeed shee thinkes this courtesie of his somewhat exceeds the priviledge of a Father and the duety of a Daughter but measuring this by the cruelty of her owne Father shee poore silly soule thinkes her selfe in this respect now as happy as heretofore shee was miserable Onely the absence of her deare husband Castelnovo doth both torture and torment her and the more for that hee is in the Field at Warres when God knoweth shee desireth and wisheth hee should bee at home with her in peace But whiles Perina lookes from Savoy to Piedmont from Nice to Vercelli and from her selfe to her Lord and Husband her other selfe wee must not forget because oâ—… History will remember her Mother in law Fidelia which now wee must admit and re-conduct to act her part upon the Theatre hereof who observing her Husbands immodest and unwise familiarity demonstrated to the young Lady Perina her sonneâ—… Wife as also his alteration in humours and apparell but chiefely his unaccustomeâ—… distraction and sighes in his rest and repose shee more out of vertuous wisedome then foolish jealousie ay mes at his vaine lust towards this young Lady her Daughter in law whereat shee both admires with griefe and wonders with the anxiety of affliction and sorrow to see her old Husband in the winter of his age so soâ—…ish and beastly to lust after his owne sonnes young Wife to see that no respect of heaven no regard of conscience nor apprehension of damnation and hell had the grace or power either to kill these lascivious thoughts in their conception or to â—…rangle them in their birth to fee that hee who was ready to goe to his bed of death should now like the Salamander in the fire bee burning with desire to goe to that of Lust and Adultery and to see him fo devoyde of piety as he must needs joyne Incest with Adultery as if one of these beastly sinnes alone were not enough enormous and prodigious to make his life miserable and his death wretched And although she have cause enough of sorrow in her selfe yet when shee thinkes of her Husbands age and Daughters youth of his lust and her chastity and which is more of the most degenerate and unnaturall part of a Father to seeke to pollute and defile his owne Sonnes bed and consequently his owne honour This indeede goes neere her and this and onely this makes her looke on him both with envie and pitty but her age having taught her to love
shee throwes her selfe on the floore and weepes and sighs so mournfully as the most obduratest and flintiest heart could not chuse but relent into pitie to see her for sometimes shee lookt up to heaven and then againe dejecting her eyes to earth now wringing her hands and then crossing her armes in such disconsolate and afflicted manner as Adriana could not likewise refraine from teares to behold her when after a deepe and profound silence she bandying and evaporating many volleyes of farre fetched sighs into the ayre shee commanding Adriana forth the doore shut with the two extremities of passion and sorrow shee alone utters these mournfull speeches to her selfe And shall Clara live to understand that her Baretano was murthered for her sake and by her unfortunate husband Albemare and shall she any more lie in bed with him who so inhumanely hath layen him in his untimely and bloudy grave And Clara Clara wilt thou prove so ungratefull to his memory and to the tender affection he bore thee as not to lament not to seeke to revenge this his diastrous and cruell end when againe her teares interrupting her words and her sighs her teares she entring into a further consultation with her thoughts and conscience her heart and her soule at last cotinues her speech in this manner O but unfortunate and wretched Clara what speakest thou of revenge for consider with thy selfe yea forget not to consider Baretano was but thy friend Albemare is thy husband the first loved thee in hope to marry thee but thou art married to the second and therefore thou must love him and although his ingratitude and infidelity towards thee make him unworthy of thy affection yet yee two are but one flesh and therefore consider that malice is a bad advocate and revenge a worse Judge But here againe remembring what a foule and odious crime murther was in the sight of the Lord that the discovery thereof infinitely tended to his glory and honour and that the poore Foole was doubtlesse inspired from heaven to affirme that God sent the Letter she knowes that her bonds of conscience to her Saviour must exceed and give a law to those of her duty towards her husband and therefore preferring Heaven before Earth and God before her Husband shee immediately cals for her Coach and goes directly to Baretano's Vnkle Seignior Giovan de Montefiore and with sighs and teares shewes him the letter who formerly though in vaine had most curiously exactly hunted to discover the murtherers of his Nephew Montefiore first reads the letter with tears then with joy and then turning towards â—…he Lady Clara he commends her zeale and Christian fortitude towards God in shewing her how much the discovery of this murther tended to his glory and so presently sends away for the President Criminell who immediately repairing thither he acquaints him therewith shewes him the Letter and prayes him to examine the Lady Clara thereon which with much modesty and equity he doth and then returne with her to her house and there likewise examineth the Foole where he had the Letter who out of his incivilitie and simplicity takes the President by the hand and bringing him to the Cupboard tels him Here God sent the Letter and here I found him when Valerio being present and imagining by his Ladies heavie and sorrowfull countenance that this Letter had perhaps brought her into some affliction and danger he looking on the direction of the Letter as also on the Seale he reveales both to the President and his Lady that hee received that Letter from one whom hee knew not and that hee left it purposely on the Cupboard for his Master against his comming The President being fully satisfied herein admires at Gods providence revealed in the simplicity of this poore harmlesse Foole in bringing this Letter which brought the murther of Baretâ—… to light when knowing thâ—… God doth many times raise up the foolish and weake to confound the wise and mighty things of the world hee presently grâ—… out a Commission to apprehend â—…lbemare who being then found in bed with Mâ—…ina one of the most famous Beauties and reputed Curtezans of Millan Hee both astonished and amazed by the just judgements of God is drawne from his beastly pleasures and adulteries to prison where being charged to have hired Pedro and 〈◊〉 to have 〈◊〉 thered Baretano he stoutly denies it But Leonardo's Letter being read him 〈◊〉 theâ—… adjudged to the Racke his Soule and Conscience ringing him â—…ny 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of terrour â—…ee there at large 〈◊〉 it when for this 〈◊〉 and bloudy fact of his he the same afternoone is condemned to be hanged the next morning at the common place of Execution which administreth matter of talke and admiration throwout all Millan when Serjeants are likewise sent away to Pavia to bring Leonardo to Millan who not so much as once dreamt or thought that ever this his letter would have produced him this danger and misery And now Albemare advertised of the manner how this letter of Leonardo was brought to light without looking up to Heaven from whence this vengeance justly befell him for his sinnes hee curseth the cruelty of his wife the simplicity of the foole but most bitterly exclaimeth against the remisnesse and carelesnesse of his servant Valerio in not retaining and keeping that letter which is the onely cause of his death yea he is so farre transported with choller against him as although he have but a few houres to live yet hee vowes he will assuredly cry quittance with him ere he die Now the charity of his Judges send him Divines that night in prison to prepare and cleare his conscience and to confirme and fortifie his soule against the morne in his last conflict with the world and her flight and transmigration to heaven who powerfully and religiously admonishing him that if he have committed any other notorious offence or crime hee should now doe well to reveale it He likewise there and then confesseth how hee had caused his man Valerio to poyson Pedro with wine in prison the verynight before he was executed whereupon this bloudy and execrable wretch according to his hellish deserts is likewise apprehended and imprisoned And now Gods mercy and justice brings this unfortunate because irreligious Gentleman Albemare to receive condigne punishment for those his two horrible murthers which he had caused to bee committed on the persons of Baretano and Pedro who ascending the ladder in presence of a world of spectators who flocked from all parts of the City to see him take his last farewell of the world The sight and remembrance of his foule crimes having now made him not onely sorrowfull but repentant he briefly delivered these few words He confessed that hee had hired Pedro and Leonardo to kill Baretano in the street and seduced his servant Valerio to poyson Pedro in prison whereof with much griefe and contrition he heartily repented himselfe and besought the Lord to forgive it him he likewise
many teares and farre fetched sighes he lastly bids the world farewell when enviting the Executioner to doe his Office he is turned over And such was the vitious life and deserved death of this Execrable Sonne and bloody Villaine Maurice wherein I must confesse that although his end were shamefull and sharpe yet it was by farre too too milde for the foulenesse of his crime in so cruelly murthering his deere Mother Christina whom the Lawes both of Nature and Grace commanded him to preserve and cherish Yea let all Sonnes and Daughters of all ages and ranckes whatsoever looke on this bloody and disasterous example of his with feare and feare to commit the like by the sight of his punishment It is a History worthy both of our meditation and detestation whether we cast our eyes on his drunkennesse or fix our thoughts and hearts on his murther Those who love and feare God are happy in their lives and fortunate in their deaths but those who will neither feare nor love him very seldome proove fortunate in the one never happy in the other and to the rest of our sins if wee once consent and give way to adde that scarlet and crying one of Murther that blood which we untimely send to Earth will in Gods due time draw downe vengeance on our Heads from Heaven Charity is the marke of a Christian and the shedding of Innocent blood either that of an Infidell an Atheist or a Devill O therefore let us affect and strive to hate it in others and so wee shall the better know how to detest and abhorre it in our selves which that we may all know to our comforts and remember to our consolaâ—…itions direct us O Lord our God and so we shall bee directed FINIS THE TRIVMPHS OF GODS REVENGE AGAINST THE CRYING AND Execrable Sinne of Murther Expressed In thirty severall Tragicall Histories digested into six Bookes which containe great variety of mournfull and memorable Accidents Amorous Morall and Divine Booke IV. Written by IOHN REYNOLDS LONDON ¶ Printed by Iohn Haviland for VVILLIAM LEE and are to be sold at his shop in Fleetstreet at the signe of the Turks-Head neere the Mitre Taverne 1634. TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE PHILIP EARLE OF PEMBROKE and Montgomery Lo. Chamberlaine to the King one of the Lords of his Majesties most Honourable Privie Counsell and Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter RIGHT HONOURABLE HAving formerly dedicated the third Book of these my Tragicall Histories of Gods Revenge against Murder to your Incomparable Lord and Brother William Earle of Pembroke who now lives with God I therefore held my selfe bound by the double obligation of my duty and your own generous merits likewise to present this Fourth Booke to your Protection and Patronage because as England so Europe perfectly knowes that you are as true an heire to his Vertues as to his Fortunes and to his Goodnesse as to his Greatnesse and that therfore it may properly be said he is not dead because they as well as himselfe do still survive and live in you with equall lustre and glory as having made either a happie Metamorphosis or a blessed Transmigration into your Noble breast and resolutions and therefore as it was my sincere respects and zeale to his Honour that then drew me to that ambition so it is entirely the same which hath now both invited and induced me to this prâ—…sumption to your Lordship having no other ends or object in this my Dedication but that this booke of mine having the honour to be countenanced by so great a personage and the felicity to be protected by so honourable a Mecaenas may therefore encounter the more safely with the various humors it shall meet with and abide more securely the different censures of this our too fastidious age How these Histories or the memorable accidents which they containe and relate will relish with your Lordships palate or judgement I know not Only because you are a Noble Son of Gods Church and an Excellent Servant to your Prince and Countrey I therfore rather hope than presume that your Honor will at least be pleased to see if not delight to know and consider how the Triumphs of Gods Revenge and punishments doth herein secretly and providently meet with this crying and scarlet sinne of premeditated Murther and with the bloudy and inhumane Perpetrators thereof who hereby as so many mercilesse Butchers and prodigious Monsters of mankind doe justly make themselves odious to Men and execrable to God and his Angels God hath deservedly honoured your Lordship with the favour of two great Earthly Kings your Soveraignes as first of our royallKing Iames the father and now of our present most Renowned King Charles his Son and yet this externall Honour and favour of theirâ—… is no way so glorious to you as that maugre the reigning vices of the world you serve the true God of heaven in the purity of your heart and feare and adore him in the integrity of your Soule And to represent you with naked Truth and not with Eloquence or Adulation This Heavenly Piety of yours I beleeve is the prime reason and true Essentiall cause of all this your earthly Honour and sublunary Greatnesse and that this is it likewise which doth so rejoyce your heart and inrich and replenish your House with so numerous and Noble an Issue of hopefull and flourishing Children who as so many Olive branches of Vertue and Syents and Plants of Honour doe both inviron your Bed and surround your Table and who promise no lesse than futurely to magnifie the bloud and to perpetuate and immortalize the Illustrious Name and Family of the Herberts to all Posterity Goe on resolutely and constantly Noble Lord in your religious Piety to God and in your Candide and unstained Fidelity to your Prince and Countrey that your life may triumph o're your death and your Vertues contend to out-shine your Fortunes and that hereafter God of his best favour and mercy may make you as blessed and as glorious a Saint in Heaven as now you are a great Peere and Noble Pillar here on Earth which none shall pray for with more true zeale nor desire or wish with more reall and unfained affection than Your Honours devoted and Most humble Servant Iohn Reynolds The Grounds and Contents of these Histories History XVI Idiaques causeth his sonne Don Ivan to marrie Marsillia and then commits Adultery and Incest with her She makes her Father in Law Idiaques to poyson his old wife Honoria and likewise makes her owne brother De Perez to kill her Chamber-maid Mathurina Don Ivan afterwards kils De Perez in a Duell Marsillia hath her braiâ—… dasht out by a horse and her body is afterwards condemned to be burnt Idiaques is beheaded his body consumed to ashes and throwne into the ayre History XVII Harcourt steales away his brother Vimoryes wife Masserina and keepes her in Adulterie She hireth Tivoly an Italian Mountebanke to poyson La Precoverte who was Harcourts wife
me to cease to be affectionate Neither doe I sacrifice my shame to thy Glory or cast away my teares on thy contempt sith I performe it more out of duty then complement and rather out of true zeale then false hypocrisie And as the strongest Cities and Castles by the rule of war so the fairest beauties by that of love deserve to be honoured with more then one assault and siege and that Cavilleir cannot justly be termed either a Gentleman a Souldier or a Lover who will resolve to be put off with the first repulse especially from so sweet and so beautifull an Enemy as thy selfe Neither can it any way breed infamy or repentance in me to be servant to so deare and slave to so faire a Mistris because the excellency of thy beauty is every way capable both to confound sence and to subvert and overthrow Reason Bee then but as courteous as thou art faire and as kinde as I am constant and thou shalt finde that I onely desire to erect the Trophees of mine Honour and Glory upon those of thy content to sacrifice my best life at the shrine and altar of thy beautie and to devote and prostrate my best zeale and service to the feet of thy Commands which if thou please to grant me Earth will not make me miserable but Heaven fortunate BORLARY The Lady Felisanna having received and oreread this second Letter of Borlari as one way shee laughes to see the constancy of his folly and indiscretion so another way shee stormes and yet grieves to see her selfe to be both the object and the cause thereof When returning to the party who brought it her shee thinks to vent part of her choller on him taxeth his audacity and rashnesse herein and strictly conjures him to bring her no more of Borlari his Letters yea shee is so farre transported with passion and choller against Borlari for sending them to her as now shee resolves to answer this wâ—… silence and hence forth to burne all other which are sent or brought to her from him because if his folly make him culpable of sending shee will not futurely make herselfe guilty of receiving any more But here againe her thoughts are taken up with feare and her heart surprised with resolution and doubt whether yea or no shee should shewe these his two letters to her Husband For her affection is soe tender soe faithfull soe constant to him because shee likewise knowes that his is reciprocally so to her that she will rather displease her selfe then any way discontent him or administer him the least cause whatsoever to runne the hazard of his displeasure or indignation for as by concealing them from his knowledge she knowes this businesse will be for ever husht up in silence and perpetually buried in oblivion So contrariwise if either through Borlarie his malice to her or indiscretion to himselfe it should any way come to her Husbands eare then she thinkes she should give him a just cause of exception and offence against her Wherein if the subtilty of the Devill should once put his foot or the malice of any of his members their tongues or fingers then his jealousie might call her Honour and Fidelity in question and make him suspect and feare her to bee dishonest though heretofore in heart and soule he confidently knowes and beleeves the contrarie she farther knowes that there is nothing so easie as to entertaine jealousie nor so difficult as to expell it and therefore that it is not enough for us to prevent a scandall but likewise to remove the originall cause thereof faine she would conceale these foolish letters of Borlari from her husband but yet she doubts it and willing she is to accquaint him there with and yet she feares it And although her chastity and innocency perswade her to performe the last yet her discretion and judgement encourage and prompt her to execute the second And here our Beautifull and Vertuous young Wife is perplexed as a traveller who meetes with two different waies and knowes not which is the best for him to take and her heart and thoughts here in this accident is as a ship at sea at one time surprised and met with two contrary windes and tides for preferring her honour to her life and her affection to her husband and his to her before any other earthly respect or felicity whatsoever she in the intricacy and ambiguity of these doubts wisheth that Borlari had slept when he writ and sent her those Letters or she when she received and read them But at last consulting with Reason and Religion with her Soule and God then her chastity gives a commanding law to her feare and her innocency to her doubt so first hoping and then praying that nothing herein might breed bad bloud in her husband or disturbe the tranquility and sincerity of her marriage shee watching a fit opportunity shewes her husband the first letter of Borlari to her with her answer thereof and then his second letter the which she informes him shee answered with silence and contempt adding withall That had she a thousand lives as she hath but one she would cheerefully sacrifice and lose them all before she would be guilty of the least thought to distaine the honour of his bed or to breake her sacred vow of Love and Chastity which in presence of God and his Church she religiously made and gave him in marriage Planeze at the hearing of these speeches and the reading of these Letters doth at one instant both blush and pale for as hee lookes pale with Envy towards Borlari to see how secretly and subtilly he endevoureth to ruine his honour in that of his wifes so he blusheth for love towards her to see how sweetly and chastly she had demeaned her selfe in her answer to him as also what a wise and loving part it was in her so punctually and fully to acquaint him therwith when in requitall hereof hee gives her many prayses and kisses extols her chastity and vertues to the sky and condemnes Borlarie his lustfull vices to Hell and although for the present shee finde some incongruity in his speeches and observe some perâ—…bation in his lookes yet he makes his affection so apparant to her and dissembleth his hatred and choller towards Borlari so secretly and artificially That his wife Felisanna wholly reposing herselfe upon her owne integrity and her husbands discretion shee sweet innocent Lady little dreames or thinkes of any disaster which will ensue hereof muchlesse what dismall effects threaten to proceed from this inconsiderate act of hers in acquainting her Husband with those Letters But shee will have time enough to see it to her griefe and know it to her sorrow yea shee will finde occasions enough to repent but never any meanes how to remedy it except it be too late and which then will meerely prove phisicke after death Planeze as wee have formerly understood is extreamely incensed against Borlary thus to attempt to bereave him
of his greatest creditors he is arrested and clapt into prison and his shoppe seized on by them which they finde as empty of drugges as his masters heart was of pitty and his soule of piety And as it is the nature and or rather the misery of prisons that where one man vertuously improves his life and actions their a hundred doe vitiously ruine themselves so Castruchio being one of this last number he there wasteth and consumeth all that he hath or which he can possibly procure and in a few weeke reduceth himselfe to soe extreame poverty and beggery that he is clapt into the common goale among the poorest sort of prisoners who live by the almâ—… and charity of well disposed people his clothes being all tottered and tornâ—… having no bed to lye on nor hardly bread to suffice nature or to maintaine life being abandoned of all his friends and acquaintance who will rather see him starve and dye then relieve him And yet in all these extremities and at the very lowest ebbe of these his wants and miseries hee will yet neither looke downe into his Conscience heart and soule with sorrow nor up to heaven or to God with repentance for all his foule sinnes and vices especially not for this his cruell and lamentable poysoning of Planeze which are the true reasons and the efficient causes of these his miserable calamities and afflictions yea his wants and miseries are so great and infinite here in prison that none whosoever will come thither to see him muchlesse to pitty him and least of all to releive him Only Dorilla a filthy old baud of his more out of importunacy to her then of her courtesie or charity to him although she disdaine to goe herselfe into prison to see Castruchio yet shee is contented sometimes to send him her sonne Bernardo a boy of some sixteene yeares of age to goe his errands so his necessity making his invention pregnant and cleere sighted after hee had tyred all his friends and acquaintance with notes and Letters which returne still empty fisted his memory at the last falles and pitcheth on Borlari who for the bloody reason formerly mentioned hee thinkes the onely fit man of the world to redresse his wants and to releave his weather beaten fortunes and to him hee often sends Bernardo with many pittifull requests and intreaties for money but to write him he dares not Borlari considering that he hath farre more cause and reason to love Castruchio then to hate him for that by vertue of the premises hee sees his owne life to lye at the mercy of his tongue although hee rather wish him in Heaven then in prison yet being extreamely covetous and yet holding himselfe both inconscience and discretion bound to releive him hee therefore sends him some small summes of money but no way enough to buy him cloathes or to maintaine his former prodigalities but rather hardly sufficient to maintaine life in him much lesse to cherish or pamper him And so often doth Castruchio send the boy Bernardo to Borlari for money that at last being weary thereof and resolute to depart with no more money God here makes his covetousnesse partly the meanes to chaulke out a way to his owne confusion and is resolved neither to speake nor to see Bernardo and to that effect gives order to his servants When little Bernardo seeing that he weares out his time and his shooes in vaine to hunt after Borlari whom he knowes will not be spoken with by him he tels Castruchio that he provide himselfe of another messenger towards Borlari for he will goe no more to him because he sees it is wholly impossible for him to speak with him and at this discourtesie of Borlari Castruchio doth now bite his lip with discontent and hung his head for anger and from henceforth he begins to assume badbloud and to conceive dangerous thougâ—… against him but as yet the consideration of his owne safety or danger makes him patient and silent But God will not have him to continue so long for almost presently we shall see his patience burst forth into violence and impetuosity and his silence breake out into extreame choller and indignation against him His old Baud Dorilla as an expert Hag of her sinnefull profession as often as she heares or knowes that Castruchio had any mony from Borlari so often she would come to the prison to him and speedily carouse and consume it with him but when by her sonne Bernardo she sees his purse shut that fountaine exhausted and that her boy could no more see Borlari but a wod den face I meane his doore shut then she resembling her selfe againe forsakes Castruchio and will neither see him nor come neere his prison so that at last he not seeing Bernardo nor once hearing from Borlari in three weekes or well neere a moneth together and being ready to perish starve and dye under the heavy burthen and pressure of his wants hee earnestly sends for Dorilla to come to him and causeth her to be informed that if she will come to him and deliver a letter to a friend of his he will speedily send him some store of mony and then shee shall have a share and part thereof so when no other respect or consideration will then this of mony againe brings this old filthy Beldam Dorilla to the prison to Castruchio who having provided her a bottle of wine and five Gazettaes to drinke by the way thereby the more carefully to effect his businesse hee exceedingly incensed with choller and revenge against Borlari for this ingratitude towards him writes him this angry Letter and deepely chargeth Dorilla with speed care and secresie to deliver it into Borlari his owne hands and to no other which Letter of his spake this language CASTRVCHIO to BORLARY THou knowest that for three hundred Dukatons which thou gavest me I poysoned Seignior Planeze in a Vomit and wilt thou now be so hard and cruell hearted against me to suffer me to dye in prison for want of so small a summe as twenty Dukatons I am made of the same flesh and bloud as thou art and although my fortunes be so low plunged yet my heart is so high seated and elevated that I give thee to understand I will rather consent to bee hanged then starved Wherefore because my Tragedy will infallibly prove thine if thou meane to prevent the one and to secure thy selfe from the other faile not speedily to send me the said twenty Dukatons by this bearer Dorilla whom I have entrusted with my letter fast sealed and so maist thou with thine but for the secret therein which thou wotest of she is wholly ignorant of it In performing me this courtesie thou shalt not onely tye my tongue and pen but my heart and soule to silence or else not Amiddest thy wealth remember my poverty which if thou forget God hath reserved mee to make thee know that thou doest not use but abuse it and therein thy selfe CASTRVCHIO
reason or of good nature or pitty in him at all his former knowledge of her miseries and now this present assurance and confirmation thereof should have perswaded him to grant her if not the first yet the second of her requests which was to receive her and give her maintenance but hee is still so hard hearted to her as he will neither releive her wants nor pitty her afflictions but more out of hatred then affection to her thinks he hath done enough in sending her not his love but this his sharp letter in answer of hers MORON to FERMIA IF thy Husband prove not to thy liking thou hast just reason to thanke thy selfe and to condemne thine owne temerity and disobedience in choosing him and if his affection bee so soone forgotten or frozen to thee it is a just punishment of God because thine was so first to me whereof as that is the effect so doubtlesse this is the prime and originall cause thereof and as his vices and prodigality hath spent all his estate so I have not so little judgement though thou so small understanding to thinke that mine shall redeeme it which upon the whole were then to immytate and second him in his folly and consequently to make my selfe guilty in consuming it And because thou fleddest with him without my knowledge from Savona to Genoua and didst there marry him without my consent therefore it is neither thy Griefe nor Misery or thy shame and repentance which shall induce me either to respect or pitty thee as my daughter or which is lesse to releive and entertaine thee as my handmaid you both are young enough to worke and labour for your living as thy mother and my selfe did for ours and therefore know that thy youth deserves no compassion from my age and if this will not satisfie thee then the best advise and counsell which I can or will give thee is that thou continually direct thy prayers to God for thy releife and consolation And herein thou wilt then serve thy selfe please mee and glorifie him And as thou regardest my Commands or desirest my blessing let me neither see thee or hereafter heare any more of thy vaine and foolish Letters MORON The receit of this her fathers unkinde and cruell letter to her doth at one time kill both her hopes with dispaire and her heart with griefe or if that doe not then the mad tyranny and new cruelty of her deboshed husband doth for now contrary to nature beyond reason and opposite to Grace he many times beates her she is all in teares hereat useth all possible meanes to reclaime him from his new vices to his old vertues She continually perswades him fairely with exhortations sweetly with sighes and deerely with teares yea poore sweet young woman shee many times casts herselfe at his feet and with her armes crossed her hands elevated towards heaven her haire dishevelled and dandling about her cheekes and her pearled teares bedewing the lillies of her mournefull and disconsolate countenance begs him to forsake his vices to himselfe and his undeserved unkindnesse and cruelty towards her But all this is in vaine for hee proves death to her requests and prayers and blinde to her sighes and teares He hath no longer mony to buy corne and is so farre from selling any bread to others as he hath scarce enough to give to himselfe and to his great bellied wife and as for his servants hee is inforced to put them all away His vanity to himselfe and cruelty to his wife is too too lamentably notorious and remarkeable for when he wants mony he beats her if she will not presently supply his wants and furnish his expences Now in the middest of all these her griefes and miseries God sends her a faire young sonne of whom the father is not worthy no nor of his vertuous wife who bore it For had not the care affection and charity of her neighbours beene farre greater then that of her husband to her both the mother had miscarryed and the childe perished in the sharpe throwes and agony of her delivery and the name of this her little sonne whom she causeth to be christened in a very poore manner and ceremony is Thomaso for she is so poore as she hath nothing but raggs to wrappe and cover him with and therefore with much griefe and shame she begges poore linnen clouts of her neighbours to keepe him cleane and sweet When it is waking she lookes and kisseth it often with joy but when it sleepes or suckes then shee grieves that it is so unfortunate both in a wicked father and poore disconsolate mother who hath more meanes to lament and pitty then milke to feed and nourish it Shee often shewes her husband his child and importunately begges him hence forth to have a more provident care of himselfe for his childes sake and of his childe for his owne sake But hee as a lewd husband and too degenerate a father doth neither love nor care for either but hates both of them yea his vices crueltie makes her sorrow so infinit that she reputes herselfe a burthen to herselfe a thousandtimes wisheth she were in heaven And one time among the rest after her husband without cause had given her many bitter words and some sharpe and cruell blowes her childe being in its cradle he gone forth from her in choller she fals downe on her knees to prayer the which so soone as shee had ended and her childe awaking and crying she takes it up in her armes and mournfully sitting downe on the floore by her bed side she weeping as fast as her poore infant babe sucked having bolted her chamber doore was over-heard by one of her neighbours twixt whom and her selfe there was but a wainscot enterclose and partition to pronounce these or the like sorrowfull speeches to her selfe O poore Fermia it had beene an infinite happinesse for thee if thou hadst never seene thy Husband Lorenzo or perished and sunke in the Sea when thou fleddest with him from Sevona to Genova before hee was thy Husband For surely thou hast great causeto thinke and reason to beleeve that this cruelty of his towards thee is a just plague and punishment sent thee from God for disobeying thy father in marrying without his consent and blessing with whom when thou livedst single thou hadst so much felicity and joy as thou knewest not what belonged to sorrow and misery and now living a wife to this thy Husband thou art enforced to taste so much griefe and misery as thou knowest no more what belongs to joy and felicity Then thou didst surfet with the choice of the costliest meats and viands and now thou art ready to starve meerly for want of bread Then thy apparrell was rich but now rent and torne Then thy beauty made thee sought in mariage by divers and now the griefes and sorrowes having defaced and withered it thou art contemned and hated of him who maried thee For can thy griefes
these passions AMARANTHA to STRENI MY obedience hath not deserved so much contempt and hatred as that without cause or reason you should thus againe banish me from Florence to Cardura and with how much griefe and sorrow I digest it I can better relate with discontent then conceale with pattence How deare your sight and presence was and ever shall be to me if you will not know and withall remember God doth for my soule appeales unto him and my heart to Heaven that I made it the chiefest life of my joy and the sweetest joy of my life So as if you are not the cause I am sure my Sister Babtistyna is of this undeserved cruelty towards me who out of her pride ambition and malice strives to bee as unnaturally imperious to mee as my deceased Sister Iaquinta was both to her selfe and mee The remedy hereof is every way worthy of you as you are my Father and of my selfe as God and Nature have made mee your Daughter for if you will not permit mee to respire and breath the ayre of Florence I will shortly hazard my life to injoy that of heaven for already this my inforced exile hath brought mee to extreame discontent and that almost to utter despaire AMARANTHA Her Letter to her Sister Babtistyna carryed this Message AMARANTHA to BABTISTYNA COuldst thou not bee contented to live happy in Florence but that thou must needes constraine our Father to make mee live miserable here in Cardura Is our Sister Iaquinta's blood already colde or is the memory as well as the manner and cause of her death already of thee forgotten and so raked up in the dust of her Grave Iudge with thy selfe if thou art not wholly as devoyde of judgement as of affection and charity what a palpable yea what a grosse and sottish vice it is in thee heereby to make thy selfe both guilty of her pride and Heire apparant to her malice I remember those ingratefull crimes and vices of hers towards us with pitty and I pitty these of thy selfe to mee with admiration in that thou wilt not suffer mee to live at the curtesie of thy tongue when thou well knowest that thy life stands at the mercie of mine Not that I am eyther so malicious to thee or so uncharitable or undiscreet to my selfe to wish thee any disaster or danger to the prejudice of mine owne happinesse and safety for I desire all peace affection and atonement betwixt us the which if thou wilt graunt mee by causing our Father speedily to recall mee home to Florence hee shall then see and thou assuredly finde that I will bee as much thy Handmayd as thy Sister and that I will farre sooner both hope and pray for a good Husband for thee then for my selfe but if thou denye mee this curtesie then blame not me but thy selfe if the event and issue of this thy cruelty come too short of thy hopes and so peradventure flie a pitch farre beyond thy expectation AMARANTHA Bernardo being thus charged by his Lady Amarantha for the safe and speedy delivery of these her two Letters as also to procure her Fathers and Sisters Answers to them hee rides away to Florence where hee is no sooner arrived at Streni his house but meeting with the young Lady Babtistyna and thinking to deliver her Letter whether it were out of haâ—…te or misfortune or both hee delivers her her Fathers Letter in stead of her owne the which shee well observing shee hastily and purposely breakes up the seales thereof and silently reades it to her selfe whereat growing first red with choller and then againe pale with envie shee foldes it up and committing it to her pocket turnes to Bernardo and demands him for her Sister Amarantha's Letter to her selfe for quoth shee that which I have already read and perused is hers to my Father when Bernardo as much amazed at his errour as afflicted at his foolish simplicity reading the direction of the second Letter and finding her speeches and his mistaking true hee then gives her her owne Letter and desires backe the other for her Father as also both their answers thereunto for his Lady and Mistresse Amarantha whereunto when shee had perused her owne Letter shee with disdaine in her lookes and malice in her eyes teares her Fathers Letter before Bernardo's face and then returnes him this bitter answer Tell that proud Girle thy Mistresse from me that it is my Fathers pleasure and mine that she shall stay in Cardura and not see Florence till she receive other order from us and for any further answer either from our Father or my self it is both a vanity and a folly for her to expect And so in much choller and indignation shee flies from him and violently throwes fast the doore against him Bernardo not expecting such sharp and cold entertainement and seeing it now wholly impossible for him to have any accesse to Streni or answer from Babtistyna hee leaves Florence and speedily returnes to Cardura to his Lady Amarantha to whom hee punctually and fully relates the bitter reply and sharpe and proud answere which her Sister Babtistyna had given and sent her and leaveth not a syllable unrehearsed but onely silenceth his mistaking in giving of her her Fathers Letter in stead of her owne as right now we understood Amarantha is all inflamed with choller at this proud and cruell carriage of her Sister Babtistyna towards her yea the remembrance thereof so transporteth her thoughts with envie and her heart with revenge against her that shee vowes shee neither can nor will brooke it at her hands and heere not hearkening either to Reason or Religion or to her Conscience or Soule shee now violently seduced and exasperated by the Devill doth afresh revive her old malice and resumes her former pernicious resolutions to her Sister Babtistyna Shee hath neither the wit much lesse the grace to consider That Choller increaseth her own torment and misery and that if wee vanquish not our owne malice and revenge it is more to bee feared then doubted that it will in the end both vanquish and ruine us Shee hath formerly conâ—…ented to poyson her eldest Sister Iaquinta and now she likewise vowes that shee will cause her elder Sister Babtistyna either to bee poyson'd or pistoll'd to death but which of these to make choice of as yet shee is irresolute and upon this bloudy businesse her thoughts runne incessantly to her heart as so many lines to their centre O that so young a Lady and so sweete a beauty should make her selfe accessary and guilty of so foule and inhumane crimes but this I may write to her shame and the Reader may please to observe it to his comfort and retaine it to his instruction That had she had the grace to have beene formerly sorrowfull and repentant for her first Murther she had then never proceeded so farre as to have made het selfe guilty of contriving and resolving a second Babtistyna hath a Chamber-mayd named Pierya of
cautious in his malice and subtill in his revenge that hee imployed no other Minister nor used no other agent or assistant herein but himselfe so being deprived of any witnesse either to accuse or make him guiltie heereof God I say out of the immensitie of his power and profundity of his providence will make himselfe to become a witnesse against himselfe and wanting all other meanes will make himselfe the onely meanes both to detect and destroy himselfe The manner thus As there is no felicitie to peace so there is no felicitie or peace comparable to that of a quiet and innocent conscience It is a precious Iewell of an inestimable â—…alue and unparalelld price yea a continuall Feast than which Heaven may but Earth cannot afford us either a more rich or delitious and the contrary it is where the heart and conscience have made themselves guiltie of some foule enormous crimes and especially of Murther wherein we can never kill Man the creature but we assuredly wound God the Creator for then as those so this with lesse doubt and more assurance gives in a heavy and bloody evidence against us and which commonly produceth us these three woefull and lamentable effects Dispaire Horrour Terrour the which wee shall now see verified and instanced in this bloody and miserable wretch Don Martino who as I have formerly sayd hath not fully past over the tearme of three moneths in externall mirth jollitie and braverie thereby to cast a cheerefull countenance and varnish on those his bloody villanies but God so distracted his wits senses struck such astonishment to his thoughts and amazement to his heart and Conscience as it seemed to him that both by night and day the ghosts of his harmelesse brother Don Pedro and of innocent Don Monfredo still pursue him for revenge and justice of these their murthers And now his lookes are extravagant fearefull and ghastly which are still the signes and symptomes either of a distempered braine a polluted conscience and soule or of both Hee knowes not to whom or where or where not to goe for remedy herein but still his heart is in a mutinie and rebellion with his Conscience and both of them against God He is afraid of every creature he sees and likewise of those who see him not If he looke backe and perceive any one to runne behinde him he thinkes 't is a Sergeant come to arrest him and if he chance to be hold any Gentleman in a scarlet cloake comming towards him he verily beleeves feares 't is a Iudge in his scarlet Robes to arraigne and condemne him He hath not the grace to go into a Church nor the boldnesse to looke up to the Tower therof for feare lest the one swallow him up alive and the other fall on him and crush him to death If hee walke in any woods fields or gardens and see but a leafe wagge or a bird stirre hee is of opinion there some furies or executioners come to torment him or doth he heare any Dog howle Cat crie or Owle whoot or screech he is thereat so suddenly appalled and amazed as hee thinkes it to bee the voyce of the Devill who is come to fetch him away Hee will not passe over any bridge brooke or River for feare of drowning nor over any planke gate or style lest hee should breake his necke The sight of his shadow is a corosive to his heart and a Panique terrour to his thoughts because he both thinkes and beleeves that it is not his owne but the hang-mans and when any one out of charitie or pitie come to see and visite him hee flyes from them as if Hell were at his backe and the Devill at his heeles The very sight of a Rapier stabs him at his heart and the bare thought or name of Poyson seemes to infect and kill his soule and yet miserable wretch and miscreant that he is all this while he hath not the goodnesse to looke downe into his heart and Conscience with contrition nor the grace to lookeup to Heaven and to God with repentance The Lady Catherina his Mother is wonderfully perplexed and grieved hereat and so are all his kinsfolkes and friends in and about Burgos who cause some excellent Physicians and Divines to deale with him about administring him the meanes to cure him of this his lunacie and distraction But God will not permit that either the skilfull Art of those or the powerfull perswasions of these doe as yet prevaile with him or performe it Two Moones have fully finished their Celestiall course whiles thus his phrensie and madnesse possesseth him and in one of the greatest and most outragious fits therof hee without wit or guide runnes to Saint Sebastiano's Church finds out Father Thomas his Confessor and in private and serious confession reveales him how he hath poysoned his brother Don Pedro and also murthered Don Monfredo adding withall that God out of his indulgent mercie would no longer permit him to charge his soule with the concealing thereof and then beggs his absolution and remission for the same His Confessor being a religious Church-man much lamenting and wondring at the foulnesse of these his Penitents two bloody facts although hee finde more difficultie than reason to grant his desire yet enquiring of him if there were any other accessary with him in these murthers and Don Martino freely and firmely acknowledging to him there was none but the Devill and himselfe hee after a serious checke and religious repremendo in hope of his future contrition and repentance gives him a sharpe and severe penance though no way answerable to his crimes and so absolves him and yet for the space of at least a whole moneth after his lunacie by the permission of God still followes him when for a further triall of his comportment and hope of his repentance God is againe pleased to slacke the hand of his judgement and so frees him from his madnesse and distraction to see whether he will prove Gold or Drosse a Christian or a Devill Not long after this his Confessor Father Thomas being Curate of one of the neighbouring parishes falls extreame sicke of a Piurisie and so dangerously sicke that his Physician despairing of his life bids him prepare his body for death and his soule for Heaven and God Who then revoking to minde what hee hath heard and seene how grievously and sorrowfully the Lady Cecilliana takes the Deaths of her Brother and Husband and the more in that she is ignorant who are their Murtherers he is no longer resolved to burthen his conscience and soule with concealing thereof but to write it to her in a Letter the which he chargeth and conjureth his owne Sister Cyrilla to deliver into her owne hands some three dayes after his buriall the which we shall see her shortly performe for the Priest Father Thomas her brother lived not three weekes after In the meane time come we to the Lady Dona Catherina the Mother who having outwardly wept
he by this time polluting himselfe with filthy and pernicious Company it is no marvell if he leave his temperancie to follow drunkennesse his chastity to commit fornication and adultery yea it is no marvell I say if these foule sins as Bawds to rage and revenge exact such power in his heart and predominancie in his soul as in the end to draw him to murther for goodmen cannot receive a greater plague nor the Devill afford or give them a worse pestilence then bad company It is the fatall Shelves and dismall Rocks whereon a world of people have and doe daily suffer shipwracke yea it is the griefe of a Kingdome and Countrey the bane of our Age and the corruption and poyson of our Times for it turnes those who professe and pursue it out of their estates and homes which they are then inforced either to sell or rather to give away to Vsurers and Cormorants and consequently which makes themselves and their poore wives and children ready to starve and dye in our streets So this is now the cause of our Vasti and therefore it will be his happinesse if it prove not his misery hereafter for after twelve yeares time of a most peaceable cohabitation and Godly conversation betweene him and his vertuous wife Hester it is a thousand griefes and pitties that she must now be inforced to see so brutish and beastly a Metamorphosis in her husband for hee is no more the man which hee was nor the husband which shee formerly found him to bee Hee loves neither his house nor his wife but stayes abroad every day with his whores and then at night returnes home to her starke drunke and in lamentable sort reviles and beats her whereas heretofore he would rather have lost his life then have strucken her and whereas heretofore he affected and loved her so dearely as he thought he could not be kinde enough to her now in the extravagancie of these his deboshed humours he hates her so deadly as he deemes and supposeth hee cannot be sufficiently cruell to her although her affection be still so fervent to him and her care so vigilent and respectfull of him as shee gives him nothing but either sweet words teares sighs silence or prayers yea shee proves her selfe so good a woman to so bad a man and so courteous and vertuous a wife to so unkinde and vitious a husband as to the eyes and judgements of all their kinsfolkes and neighbours they know it is now her praise and glory and feare it will hereafter prove his shame and misery She leaves no meanes unassayed or invention unsought and unattempted to divert and turne this foule inundation of his Vice into the sweet streames of Vertue and the pure rivers of Godlinesse But Ahlas good woman her care proves vaine and her affection and zeale impossible herein although her pale cheekes mournefull eyes brinish teares far-fetcht sighs religious prayers and sweet perswasions doe still second and accompany her indeavours in this her desired hope of his reformation for she is inforced to know that hee keepes a young strumpet named Salyna at the Towne of Cleraux some sixe Leaugues from Fribourg whither most mornings hee goes to her and to make himselfe the more treacherous a dissembler to his wife and the more execrable a traytor to his soule he fortifyeth and coloureth out this his accustomed journey to his strumpet with this false Apologie that he goes to Cleraux to heare the Sermons of M r Abraham Tifflin a very famous and religious Preacher there when God and his ulcerated soule and conscience know the contrary and that this pretended excuse of his is but only a false cloak to overvail his true Adultery and prophane Impiety for he needed not to have formerly added Whordom to his Drunkennesse and now Ingratitude Cruelty and Impiety to his Whordome in regard the least of these enormous crimes and sinnes assuredly have the power and will infallibly finde the meanes to make him futurely as miserable as now he foolishly thinkes himselfe happy for these his journeyes to Cleraux are onely the Pilgrimage of his wanton Lust. Salyna is the Saint of his voluptuous devotion her House the Temple of his obscene wishes and Adultery the Oblation and Sacrifice of his lascivious desires Wee can difficultly make our selves guilty of a fouler sinne on earth then to seeme sanctifyed in our devotions towards God when we are prophane or to indeavour to appeare sound without when we are rotten within in our Faith and Religion For as Man is the best and noblest of all Gods creatures so an Hypocrite towards God is the worst of men yea or rather a Devill and no man for our hearts and actions and our most retired thoughts and secret darling sinnes are as conspicuous and transparant to Gods eyes as his decrees and resolutions are invisible to ours sith he sees all things and we see nothing when we doe not see him A miserable hight of impiety in making of our selves foolishly sinners and wilfully Hypocrites and yet it is a more fatall and fearefull degree thereof when we so delight in sinne and glory in hypocrisie as to make Apologies for the same But Vasti not thinking either of Religion or God frolicks it out with Salyna his strumpet in Cleraux whiles his owne vertuous wife Hester weepes at home at Fribourg and when he returnes thence hee is still so hard hearted and cruell to her as he continually beates her Now by this time George their Sonne is sixteene yeares of age of a mans courage and stature and of a very pregnant wit so that as young as he is hee hath beene long enough a sorrowfull eye-witnesse of his Fathers cruelty in beating of his Mother Hee hath formerly seene the lamentable effects and now he falls on his knees to her and with teares and prayers beseecheth her to acquaint him with the true cause thereof and from whence it proceeds when his Mother adding more confidence to his wisedome then to his youth from point to point fully relates it to him accordingly as we have formerly understood George bursts forth into sorrowfull passions at her repetition and his knowledge hereof as not able to refraine from sighing to see her sigh nor from weeping to see her weepe Hee as much grieves to be the Sonne of so vicious a Father as he rejoyceth and gloryeth to be that of so vertuous a Mother so he makes her sorrowes his and here weds himselfe to her quarrell with promise and oath either to right it with his Father or to revenge it on Salyna whom he knowes to be the originall cause of all these stormes and tempests of all these afflictions and miseries which befall his Mother and in her himselfe He will no longer bee a child because God and nature hath now made him a man so the very next time hee sees his Father beate his Mother hee steps to her assistance and defends her from the tyrannie of his blowes and then
very sorrowfull and repentant for his former ill carriage and unkindnesse towards her whereof he prayes her pardon and constantly vowes reformation so this his vertuous and kinde wife Hester freely forgets and forgives Vasti her husband and then hee gives her many kisses in requitall and bids his sonne George to provide good cheere for Supper and the better to seale and solemnize this their reconciliation and atonement hee bids him to invite some of their Kinsfolkes and Neighbours to bee present thereat who were formerly acquainâ—…d with their debates and differences where no good cheere and choice wine is wanting So they are wonderfull frolicke pleasant and merry all rejoyce at this good newes and highly applaud their Sonne George for his discreet carriage and care in the managing of this busines Thus all things seeme to be fully reconciled and here Vasti drinkes many times to his wife Hester and shee againe to her husband with much affection and joy When supper being ended their guests departed and their Sonne George having received both of their blessings they betake themselves to their Chamber and Bed Now in all humane sense and reason who would once conceive or thinke that after this Meadow conference of Vasti to his Son George but that this his now Table reconciliation with his wife Hester were true and pronounced with much iâ—…egrity from himselfe with deep affection to her and infinite zeale and devotion to God but Ahlas nothing lesse for here I am inforced to relate that Vasti the same night had not laien in bed by his wife five or six houres but she good woman sleeping in her innocencie he as a devill incarnate was waking in his malice and revenge and laughing in his sleeve to see how cunningly and subtilly he hath lulld â—…eep the courage of his Sonne with a Meadow conference and the iealousiâ—… of 〈◊〉 Wife with a Supper and a few sweet words and kisses When here againe the the Devill blowing the coles to his lust and marshalling up his former obscene desires and resolutions onely his body is in bed with his wife Hester here in Fribourg but his affection and heart is still in the bosome of his strumpet Salyna in Cleraux yea the Devill I say is now both so busie and so strong with him that as a hellish councellour and prodigious pen-man he writes downe this definitive sentence in his thoughts and fatall resolution in his heart That Salyna he will love and his wife Hester he cannot and that shortly he will give so sharpe a revenge to his son George for his disobedience towards him and for beating of his Salyna as she shall have no further cause to feare his cruelty nor himselfe his courage and because he prefers her love to his owne life as being dangerously intangled and captivated in the snares of her youth and beauty hee likewise resolves to write and send her a Letter the very next morning Now judge Christian Reader is not this like to prove a sweet reformation and reconciliatlon of Vasti to his wife and sonne sith these are the sparkes which diffuse and flie out from the fire of his lust and the fatall lines which issue forth from the Centre of his bloudy heart and sinfull soule for in the morning before his wife is out of her bed hee is stirring and writes this Letter to Salyna which hee sends her by a trusty messenger VASTI to SALYNA I Am plotting of a businesse which will infinitely import both our contents so if thou wilt resolve to brooke my absence with as much patience as I doe thine with sorrow I shall finish it the sooner and consequently the sooner see thee I have met with an Accident which I thought was wholly impossible for mee to meet with and though at first it brought me feare and affliction yet at length I was inforced to interpose discretion insteed of courage thereby to draw security out of policie which I could not hope for out of resistance for I must informe thee of this truth that if my Zeale and Affection to thee had not beene of greater power and consideration then that of mine owne life I should then with more facility and willingnesse rather have hazarded it for thy sake then have reserved it for mine own But the mists of those doubts are now dissipated and the â—…lowds of these feares blowne away or if not I will shortly take that order that thou shalt have no cause to feare the one or I to doubt the other When I shall be so happy to see thee I know not but if Fortune prove propitious to my desires and wishes my returne shall be acted with as much celerity as it is eagerly longed for of me with Affection and Passion VASTI Salyna receives this letter of Vasti with equall feare and joy for as she was glad to hear of him and his news so she was sorowfull as fearing that for her sake he should imbarke himselfe in some bloudy businesse which might proove ruinous to them both And although her apprehension doe farre exceed her knowledge herein yet her suspicion will give her no truce neither can her jealousie administer any peace either to her heart or minde before she be resolved by Vasti of the doubtfull and different truth hereof Shee is so prophane and lascivious as she can content her selfe to make him guilty of Fornication but yet Religion hath left some sparkes and impressions of Piety in her that she would still have him innocent of Revenge and Murther to which effect by his own messenger she returnes him this answer SALYNA to VASTI BEcause you deeme mee unworthy to know your Designes therefore I have assumed the boldnesse to feare them in which regard and consideration finde it not strange that I 〈◊〉 intreat you to ingrave in your heart and imprint in your memory that Malice is most commonly squint ey'd and Revenge still blinde therefore if you will not ruine our affections and fortunes take heed that you imbrue not your heart or hand in innocent bloud for Murther is a crying and a Scarlet sinne which God may forgive and make white by his Mercie but will not by his Iustice whereof this my Letter of Advice to you shall be a witnesse betwixt God your selfe and mee and therefore as you love mee bazard not your life for my sake but preserve it for your owne As it is in your will to make your stay from me as long or short as you please so it shall be in my pleasure to judge thereof and thereby likewise of your affection to me I wish I could be more yours then I am and your selfe as often in my sight and company as I desire God prosper you in your stay and mee in your absence SALYNA Vasti having thus settled his affection and affaires with Salyna he sees with griefe that it is now almost impossible for him to see her in Cleraux because of the vigilant and watchfull eye of his