an other Lady a widow also that was very rich and so wel allied as any in all the land This Lady had a sonne whom she caused to be trained vp so wel in Armes and good letters as in other honest exercises proper and méete for a Gentleman and great Lord for which respect she had sent him to Barcelona the chiefe Citie of all the Countrey of 〈◊〉 Senior Dom Diego for so was the sonne of that widow called 〈◊〉 so well in all things that when he was 〈◊〉 yeares of age there was no Gentleman of his degrée that did excell him ne yet was able to approche vnto his perfections and commēdable behauior A thing that did so wel content that good Lady his mother as she could not tell what countenaunce to kéepe to couer hir ioy A vice very commen to fonde and folish mothers who flater them selues with a shadowed hope of the future goodnesse of their childrē which many times doth more hurt to that wanton and wilfull age than profit or aduauncement The persuasion also of such towardnesse full oft doth blinde that sprites of youth as that faults which folow the same be far more vile thā before they were wherby the first Table made in his first coloures of that imagined vertue cā take no force or perfection and so by incurring sundry mishaps the parent childe commonly eskape not without equall blame To come againe therefore to our discourse it chaunced in that time that the Catholike king deceased Philippe of Austrich which succéeded him as heire passing through Fraunce came into Spaine to be inuested and take possession of al his seigniories and kingdomes which knowen to the Citizens of Barcelona they determined to receiue him with such pompe magnificence and honor as duely appertaineth to the greatnesse and maiestie of so great a Prince as is the sonne of the Romane Emperour And amongs other things they prepared a triumphe at the Tilt where none was suffred to enter the listes but yong Gētlemen such as neuer yet had folowed armes Amongs whome Dom Diego as that Noblest person was chosen chiefe of one part The Archduke then come to Barcelona after the receiued honors and Ceremonies accustomed for such entertainment to gratifie his subiects and to sée the brauery of the yong Spanish Nobilitie in armes would place himself vpon the skaffolde to iudge the courses and valiance of the runners In that magnifique and Princely conflict all mens eyes were bent vpon Dom Diego who course by course made his aduersaries to féele the force of his armes his manhode and dexteritie on horsebacke and caused them to muse vpon his towarde 〈◊〉 in time to come whose noble gests then acquired the victory of the campe on his side Which moued King Philip to say that in al his life he neuer saw triūph better handled and that the same séemed rather a battell of strong hardy men than an excercise of yong Gentlemen neuer wōted to support the dedes of armes trauaile of warfare For which cause calling Dom Diego before him he sayd God graūt yōg Gentleman that your ende agrée with your goodly beginnings hardy shock of 〈◊〉 done this day In memory wherof I wil this night that ye do your watch for I mean to morow by Gods assistance to dub you knight The yong gentlemā blushing for shame vpō his knees kissed the Princes hāds thanking him most hūbly of the honor and fauor which it pleased his maiestie to do him vowing promising to do so wel in time to come as no mā shold be deceiued of their conceiued opinion nor the king frustrate of his seruice which was one of his most obedient vassals subiectes So the next day he was made Knight receiued the coller of the order at the handes of King Phillip who after the departure of his prince which toke his iourney into Castille retired to his owne 〈◊〉 house more to sée his mother whōe long time before he had not séene than for desire of pleasure that be in fieldes which notwithstāding he exercised so well as in end 〈◊〉 perceiued 〈◊〉 in townes cities to be an imprisōment 〈◊〉 respect of that he felt in Countrey As the Poets whilom fained loue to shote his arrows amid that 〈◊〉 forrests fertile fields sea coasts shores of great riuers and fountaine brinkes and also vpon the tops of huge and high Mountaines at the pursute of the sundry sorted Nymphes and 〈◊〉 dimigods déeming the same to be a meane of libertie to folow loues tract without suspition voide of company and lothsome cries of Cities where 〈◊〉 enuy false report and ill opinion of all things haue pitched their camp and raised their tents 〈◊〉 contrariwise frākly and without dissimulation in the fieldes the friend discouering his passion to his Mistresse they enioy the pleasure of hunting the naturall musike of birds and somtimes in pleasant herbers 〈◊〉 with the murmur of some running brookes they communicate their thoughts beautifie the accorde and vnitie of louers and make the place famous for that first witnesse of their amorous acquaintance In like manner thrice foure times blest 〈◊〉 they there who leaning the vnquiet toile that ordinarily doeth chaunce to them that abide in Cities do rendre 〈◊〉 y of their studies to the Muses whereunto they be most minded 〈◊〉 Dom Diego at his owne house loued cherished of his mother reuerenced and obeyed of his subiects after he had imployed some time at his study had none other ordinary pleasure but in rousing the Déere hunting the wilde Bore run the Hare somtimes to flie at the Heron or fearfull Partrich alongs the fields Forrestes pondes and stepe Mountaines It came to passe one day as hée Hunted the wilde Mountaine Goate which he had dislodged vpon the Hill toppe he espied an olde Harte that his dogges had found who so ioyfull as was possible of that good lucke followed the course of that swift and fearefull beast But suche was his Fortune the dogges lost the foote of that pray and he his men for being horssed of purpose vpon a fair Iennet could not be followed and in ende loosing the sight of the Déere was so farre seuered from companie as hée was vtterly ignoraunt which way to take And that which grieued him most was his horse out of breth skarse able to ride a false galloppe For which cause he putte his horne to his mouthe and blewe so loude as he could But his men were so farre off as they could not heare him The yonge Gentleman being in this distresse could not tel what to doe but to returne backe wherin he was more deceiued than before for thinking to take the way home to his Castle wandred still further off from the same And trotting thus a long time he spied a Castle situated vpon a little Hill wherby he knew himself far from his owne house Neuerthelesse hearing a certaine noyse of hunters thinking they had bene his people resorted
not greatly at his ease and quiet who neded no torments to force him confesse the fact for of his owne accorde 〈◊〉 he disclosed the same but he sayde he was prouoked thervnto by the persuasion of Bianca Maria telling the whole discourse as you haue heard before She had already intelligence of this chaunce might 〈◊〉 fled and saued hir selfe before the fact by the confession of Dom Pietro had bene discouered and attended in some secrete place til that stromie time had ben calmed appeased But God which is a rightful iudge would not suffer hir wickednesse extend any further fith she hauing founde out such a nimble wilfull executioner the Coūte of 〈◊〉 could not long haue 〈◊〉 aliue who then in good time and happie houre was absent out of the Citie So soone as Dom 〈◊〉 had accused the Countesse the Lorde of 〈◊〉 sente hir to prison and being examined confessed the whole matter trusting that hir infinite numbre of crownes would haue corrupted the Duke or those that represented his person But hir crownes and hir life passed all one way For the day after hir imprisonment she was condemned to lose hir heade And in the meane time Dom Pictro was saued by the diligence and sute of the captaines was employed in other warres to whome the Duke gaue him for that hée was 〈◊〉 to lose so notable a souldier and the aide of his brother the Counte of Colisano The Coūtesse hauing sentence pronoūced vpon hir but trusting for pardon she wold not prepare hir self to die ne yet by any means craue forgiuenesse of hir faults at the handes of God vntill she was conueyed out of the Castell and ledde to the common place of execution where a scaffold was prepared for hir to play the last acte of hir tragedie Then the miserable Ladie began to know hir self and to cōfesse hir faultes before the people deuoutely praying God not to haue regarde to hir demerites ne yet to determine his wrath against hir or enter with hir in iudgement for so much as if the same were decréed according to hir iniquitie no saluation was to bée looked for She besought the people to praye for hir and the Counte of Gaiazzo that was absent to pardon hir malice and treason which she had deuised against him Thus miserably and repentantly dyed the Countesse which in hir life refused not to imbrace and folow any wickednesse no mischiefe she accompted euill done so the same were imployed for hir pleasure and pastime A goodly example truely for the youth of oure present time sith the most part indifferētly do launch into the gulfe of disordred life suffring them selues to be plunged in the puddles of their owne vain conceipts without consideration of the mischieues that may ensue If the Lord of Cardonne had not ben beloued of his generall into what calamitie had he fallen for yelding him selfe a praie to that bloodie woman who had more regarde to the light and wilfull fansie of hir whome he serued like a slaue than to his duetie and estimation And truely those be voide of their right wittess which thinke them selues beloued of a whoore For their amitie endureth no longer than they sucke from their pursses and bodies any profit or pleasure And bicause almost euery day semblable examples be séene I will leaue of this discourse to take mée to a matter not farre more pleasant than this although founded vpon better grounde and stablished vpon loue the first onset of lawfull mariage the successe wherof chaunced to murderous end and yet the same intended by neyther of the beloued As you shall be iudge by the continuance of reding of the historie ensuing Beare with me good Ladies for of you alone I craue this pardon for introducing the whoorish life of this Countesse and hir bloodie enterprise bicause I know right well that recitall of murders and bloodie facts werieth the mindes of those that loue to liue at rest and wish for faire weather after the troublesome stormes of ragyng seas no lesse than the pilote and wise Mariner hauing long time endured and cut the perillous straicts of the Ocean sea And albeit the corruption of our nature be so great as folies delite vs more than ernest matters full of reason and wisedome yet I thinke not that our mindes be so peruerted and diuided from frouthe but sometimes we care and séeke to speake more grauely than the countrey Hynde or more sobrely than they whose liues do beare the marke of infamie and be to euery wight notorious for the only name of their vocation Suffiseth vs that an historie bée it neuer so full of sporte and pleasure do bring with it instruction of our lyfe and amendement of our maners And wée ought not to be so curious or scrupulous to reiect merrie and pleasaunt deuises that be voide of harmefull talke or without such glée as may hinder the education of youth procliue and redie to choose that is naught and corrupte The very bookes of holy Scriptures do describe vnto vs persons that be vicious so detestable as nothyng more whose factes vnto the symple may séeme vnséemely vpon the leaste recitall of the same And shal we therfore reiect the reading and eschue those holy bookes God forbid but with diligence to beware that we do not resemble those that be remembred there for example for somuch as spéedily after sinne ensueth grieuous and as sodaine punishement For which cause I haue selected these histories of purpose to aduertise youth howe those that folowe the way of damnable iniquitie faile not shortely after their greate offenses and execution of their outragious vices to féele the iuste and mightie hande of God who guerdoneth the good for their good workes and déedes and rewardeth the euill for their wickednesse and mischese Nowe turne we then to the Historie of two the rarest louers that euer were the performaunce and 〈◊〉 whereof had it ben so prosperous as the begynnyng had ioyed 〈◊〉 the fruictes of their intente and two noble houses of one Citie reconciled to perpetuall friendship Rhomeo and Julietta ¶ The goodly Historie of the true and constant Loue betwene RHOMEO and IVLIETTA the one of whom died of poison and the other of sorow and 〈◊〉 wherin be comprised many aduentures of loue and other deuises touching the same The. xxv Nouel I Am sure that they whiche measure the greatenesse of Gods works according to the capacitie of their rude simple vnderstanding wyll not lightly adhibite credite vnto this historie so wel for the va rietie of strange accidēts which be therin described as for that noueltie straungenesse of so rare and perfect amitie But they that haue redde Plinie Valerius Maximus Plutarche and diuers other writers doe finde that in olde tyme a greate numbre of men and women haue died some of excessiue ioye some of ouermuch sorrowe and some of other passions and amongs the same Loue is not the least which when it seaseth vpon
an hundred thousand deathes did stande about hir haling hir on euery side and plucking hir in pieces féelyng that hir forces diminyshed by litle and litle fearing that through to great debilitie she was not able to do hir enterprise like a furious and insensate womā without further care gulped vp the water within the viol then crossing hir armes vpon hir stomacke she lost at that instant al the powers of hir body and remained in a traunce And when the mornyng light began to thrust his head out of his Orient hir chamber woman which had lockte hir in with the key did open the doore and thinking to awake hir called hir many times and sayde vnto hir Mistresse you sléepe to long the Counte Paris will come to raise you The poore olde woman spake vnto the wall and 〈◊〉 a song vnto the deafe For if all the horrible and tempestuous soundes of the worlde had bene canoned forth oute of the greatest bombardes and sounded through hir delicate eares hir spirits of lyfe were so fast bounde and stopt as she by no meanes coulde awake wherewith the poore olde woman amazed beganne 〈◊〉 shake hir by the armes and handes which she founde so colde as marble stone Then puttyng hande vnto hir mouthe sodainely perceyued that she was deade for she perceyued no breath in hir Wherfore lyke a woman out of hir wyttes shée ranne to tell hir mother who so madde as Tigre bereft of hir faons hyed hir selfe into hir daughters chaumber and in that pitifull state beholdyng hir daughter thinking hir to be deade cried out Ah cruell death which hast ended all my ioye and blisse vse thy laste scourge of thy wrathfull ire against me least by suffering me to lyue the rest of my woful dayes my tormente do increase then she began to fetchsuch straining sighes as hir heart dyd séeme to cleaue in pieces And as hir cries beganne to encrease beholde the father the Counte Paris and a greate troupe of Gentlemen and Ladies which were come to honour the feast hearing no soner tell of that which chaunced were stroke into such sorowfull dumpes as he whiche had behelde their faces wold easily haue iudged that the same had bē a day of ire pitie specially the lord Antonio whose heart was frapped with such surpassing wo as neither teare nor word could issue forth knowing not what to doe streight way sēt to seke that most expert phisitians of the towne who after they had inquired of the life past of Iulietta déemed by common reporte that melancolie was the cause of that sodaine death then their sorowes began to renue a 〈◊〉 And if euer day was lamentable piteous vnhappie and fatall truely it was that wherin Iulietta hir death was published in Verona for shée was so bewailed of great small that by the cōmon plaintes the common wealth séemed to be in daunger not without cause For besides hir natural beautie accompanied with many vertues wherewith nature had enriched hir she was else so humble wise and debonaire as for that humilitie and curtesie she had stollen away the heartes of euery wight and there was none but did lamente hir misfortune And whilest these things were in this lamented state Frier Laurence with diligence dispatched a Frier of his Couent named Frier Anselme whome he trusted as himselfe and deliuered him a letter written with his owne hande commaunding him expressely not to gyue the same to any other but to Rhomeo wherein was conteyned the chaunce which had passed betwene him and Iulietta specially that vertue of the pouder and commaunded him the nexte ensuing night to spéede him self to Verona for that the operation of the pouder that time would take ende that he should cary with him back again to Mantua his 〈◊〉 Iulietta in dissembled apparell vntill Fortune bad otherwise prouided for them The frier made such hast as too late he ariued at Mantua within a while after And bicause the maner of Italie is that the Frier trauailing abroade oughte to take a companion of his couent to doe his affaires within the Citie the Frier went into his couent but bicause he was entred in it was not lawfull for him to come out againe that day for that certain dayes before one religious of that couent as it was sayd did die of the plague Wherefore the magistrates appointed for the healthe and visitation of the sicke commaunded the warden of the house that no Friers shold wander abrode the Citie or talke with any citizen vntill they were licenced by the officers in that behalfe appointed which was the cause of the great mishap which you shal heare hereafter The Frier being in this perplexitie not able to goe forth and not knowing what was cōtained in the letter deferred his iorney for that day Whilest things were in this plight preparation was made at Veronna to doe the obsequies of Iulietta There is a custome also which is common in Italie to place all the beste of one lignage and familie in one Tombe wherby Iulietta was layde in the ordinarie graue of the 〈◊〉 in a Churcheyarde harde by the Churche of the Friers where also the Lorde Thibault was interred And hir obsequies honourably done euery man returned whereunto Pietro the seruant of Rhomeo gaue hys assistance For as we haue before declared his master sente him backe againe from Mantua to Verona to do his father seruice and to aduertise hym of that whiche shoulde chaunce in his absence there who séeing the body of Iulietta inclosed in tombe thinkyng with the rest that she had bene dead in déede incontinently toke poste horse and with diligence rode to Mantua where he founde his maister in his wonted house to whome he sayde with his eyes full of teares Syr there is chaunced vnto you so straunge a matter as if so bée you do not arme your selfe with constancie I am afrayde that I shal be the cruell minister of your death Bée it knowne vnto you syr that yesterday morning my mistresse Iulietta left hir lyfe in this world to seke rest in an other and wyth these eyes I saw hir buried in the Churchyarde of S. Frauncis At the sounde of which heauie message Rhomeo began wofully to 〈◊〉 as though his spirites grieued with the 〈◊〉 of his passion at that instant woulde haue abandoned his bodie But strong Loue whiche woulde not permitte hym to faint vntill the extremitie framed a thoughte in his fantasie that if it were possible for hym to dye besides hir his death shoulde be more glorious and 〈◊〉 as he thought better contented By reason whereof after 〈◊〉 had washed his face for 〈◊〉 to discouer hys sorrow he went out of hys chamber and commaunded hys man to 〈◊〉 behynde hym that hée might walke thorough oute all the corners of the Citie to fynde propre remedie if it were possyble for hys griefe And 〈◊〉 others beholdyng an Apoticaries shoppe of lytle furniture and lesse store of boxes and other thynges requisite
foolyshe mothers are to be accused which suffer their daughters of tender and chyldishe age to bée 〈◊〉 red of theyr seruantes not remembryng 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the fleshe is howe prone and redy men be to doe euill and how the seducing spirite waiting still vpon vs is procliue and prone to surprise and catche vs within his snares to thintent he may reioyse in the ruin of soules washed and redéemed with the blood of the son of God This troupe drawyng nere to the caue of Dom Diego Roderico sent one of his men to 〈◊〉 hym of their commyng who in the absence of hys friende 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 wyth hope shortely to sée the onely Ladie of hys hearte accompanyed wyth a merie 〈◊〉 ioyfull traine so soone as he had somewhat 〈◊〉 hys wylde maner of lyfe he also by litle and litle 〈◊〉 a good parte of his lustie and freshe colour and almoste hadde recouered that beautie whiche he hadde when he first became a Citizen of those desertes Now hauing vnderstanded the message sent vnto him by Roderico God knoweth yf wyth that 〈◊〉 tydyngs he felte a motion of bloode such as made all hys membres to leape and daunce whyche rendred hys mynde astoonned for the onely memorie of the thyng that poysed hys mynde vp and downe not able to stande wyth equall balaunce whyche rather hée ought to haue made reioyse than complaine being assured to sée hir of whome hée demaunded onely grace and pardon but for recouerie thereof he durst not repose any certaine Iudgement In the ende hoystyng vp his head like one rysen from a long and sonnd sléepe hée sayde Praise be to God who yet before I dye hath done me that pleasure to suffer me to haue a sight of hir that by causing my martirdome continueth thys disordered lyfe which shall procure in like sort mine vtter ruine and decay Upō the approch wher of I shall goe more ioyful charged with incomparable loue to visite the ghostes beneath dead in the presence of that cruel swete and who tormenting me with ticklish tentation hath made me taste honie sugred with 〈◊〉 gall more dangerouse than the sucke of poison and vnder the vermilion rudde of a new sprouted rose 〈◊〉 blowen forthe hath hidden secrete thornes the prickes whereof hath me so liuely touched as my wounde can not well be cured with any baulme that maye be therevnto applied without enioying of that mine owne happie missehap or without that remedie which almost I féele the same only resting in death that so long and oftenymes I haue desired as the true remedie of my paines and griefe In the meane whyle Dom Roderico whiche tyll that tyme was not known vnto Gineura drewe néere vnto hir by the way as he rode and talked with hir in thys sorte I doubte not Gentlewoman but that you thynke youre selfe not well contented to sée me in this place in such company and for occasion so vnséemely for my degrée and state and moreouer knowing what iniurie I séeme to do vnto you that euer was and am so affectionate and frendly to that whole stock of your race linage am not ignorant that vpon that first brūt you may iudge my cause vniust to cary you away from the handes of your friende to bring you into these 〈◊〉 wylde and solitarie places But yf ye considered the force of that true amitie whiche by vertue sheweth the common bondes of hearts and mindes of men shall measure to what ende this acte is done without to muche staying 〈◊〉 the light apprehension of choler for a beginnyng somwhat troublesom I am assured then that yf you be not wholly depriued of reason I shall not bee altogether blamed nor you quite of faulte And bycanse 〈◊〉 drawe néere vnto the place whether by the helpe of God I meane to conduct you I beseeche you to consyder that the true seruaunt whiche by all seruice and duetie studieth to execute the comaundementes of him that hath 〈◊〉 ouer hym dothe not deserue to bée beaten or driuen away from the house of his master but to be fauoured and cherished and ought to receyue equall recompense for his seruice I speake not this for my selfe my deuotion being 〈◊〉 elsewhere and not to you sauing for that honest affection which I ought to beare to all vertuous and chaste persons The 〈◊〉 whereof I will not denie vnto you in tyme and place where I shal vse such 〈◊〉 towards you as is mete for a maiden of your age and state For the gretnesse of noble men puisant doth most appeare shew forthit self when they vse mildenesse gentlenesse vnto those to whō by reson of their authoritie they might do 〈◊〉 tie malice Now to that end that I do not make you doutful long Al that which I haue done yet do mean to do is for none other purpose but to ease the greuous paines of that most faithful louer that liueth at this day vnder that circle of the Moone It is for the good Knight Dom Diego that loueth you so derely stil worshippeth your noble fame who bicause he wil not shew him self disobedic̄t liueth miserably amōg brute beasts amid the craggy rocks and mountaines and in the déepe solitudes of comfortlesse dales valleis It is to him I say that I doe bring you protesting vnto you by othe Gentlewoman that that misery wherin I saw him little more than vj. wekes past toucheth me so neare the heart as if the Sacrifice of my life sufficed alone without letting you to féele this painefull voyage for the solace of his 〈◊〉 I wold spare it no more than I do mine owne endeuor and honor besides the hazarding of that losse of your good grace and fauoure And albeit I wel perceiue that I do grieue you by causing you to enter this painfull iourney yet I beseche you that that whole displeasure of this 〈◊〉 may be imputed vnto my charge and that it wold please you louingly to deale with him who for your sake vseth such cruell misdemeanor against himselfe Gineura as a woman halfe in despaire for the death of hir friend behaued hir self like a mad woman voide of wit and sense and the simple remembraunce of Dom Diego his name so astonned hir which name she hated far more than the pāgs of death that she staide a long time hir mouth not able to shape one word to speake In the end vanquished with impacience burning with choler and trembling for sorow loked vpon Dom Roderico with an eye no lesse furious than a Tigresse caught within the net and séeth before hir face hir yong Fawnes murdered wringing hir handes and beating hir delicate brest she vsed these or such like words Ah bloudy traitor and no more Knight is it of thée that I ought to looke for so detestable a villanie and treason 〈◊〉 darest thou be so hardie to entreate me for an o ther that hast in mine own presence killed him whose death I wil pursue vpon