CENTRE
for
REFORMATION
and
RENAISSANCE
STUDIES
VICTORIA
UNIVERSITY
TORONTO
a
THE SHAKESPEARE LIBRARY.
GENERAL EDITOR PROFESSOR
I. GOLLANCZ, LITT.D.
PANDOSTO
OflJ La'e-Paier dltio ofDOR^STllS ^IID Fw/ 52o
iave b,,n rita, of hih 1 oo are for ale.
GREENE'S 'PANDOSTO'
OR DORASTUS AND
FAWNIA' BEING THE
ORIGINAL OF SHAKE-
SPEARE'S ' WINTER'S
TALE' NEWLY EDITED
BY P. G. THOMAS
HUMPHREY MILFORD
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW NEW YORK TOF
MELBOURNE CAPE TOWN BOMBAY CALCUT
CRADLE SONG
QUAND 'I CHANTES BERCE
LE SO1R ENTRE 1V/ES BRASs
ENTEND$-TU MA PENSIVE
Qu1 TE RPOND TOUT BAS ?
TON DOUX CHANT ME RAPPELLE
LES PLUS BEAUX DE MES JOURS ;
AH I CHANTEZ CHANTEZ MA BELLK
CHANTEZ CHANTEZ TOUJOURS I
QUAND TU R1S} SUR TA BOUCHE
L'AMOUR S ''-PANOU1T
ET SOUDAIN LE FAROUCHE
SOUP CON S]VANOU1T.
AH .t LE RIRE FInaLE
PROE UN CUR SANS DTOURS l
AH R1EZ RIEZ MA BELLE
R1EZ Rl TOUJOURS
(Vco Ho)
INTRODUCTION
Editions.--The popularity of Pandosto or Dorastus
and Fawnia may be gauged from the fact that the
British Museum alone contains ten editions of the novel,
dated before the end of the eighteenth century. Of these,
the edilio princeps of 588 is a unique copy, and forms
the basis of the present modernized edition. Unfortun-
ately, the whole of sig. b is missing, and the impression
has, therefore, been completed from the I6C 7 ed. in the
Bodleian. The chief difference between these two
editions is the fact that whereas in the former the words
of the oracle run " The king shall li,e without an
heir," in the latter we have "The king shall die with-
out an heir," which version appears again in the editions
of I6I 4, 163z, I636, I648, 1688, 1696 and i7<33.
The statement in the Variorum edition ofT/]be It%ter's Tale
that Collier, Hazlitt, and Grosart all have "shall live"
and, therefore, did not copy the 1588 edition is not
conclusive. On the other hand, the fact that Shakespeare
ix
INTRODUCTION xi
plied the defect in the original from the x6o7 edition,
seeing that his text differs from the latter in at least three
hundred particulars. Hazlitt's punctuation and arrange-
ment of paragraphs are, however, often suggestive. Furness
follows Collier's text, but Grosart returns to the original,
from which he deviates but slightly. The chief points
of difference between Hazlitt's text and that of x588
(supplemented by the 6o 7 edition) have been indicated
in the notes.
"Dorastus" and "The Winter's Tale."--As
far back as 709, at least, it was known that Shakespeare had
drawn upon Greene's novel for the material of The Winter's
Tale, but the actual debt of the dramatist to the novelist
can be realized only after a careful comparison between
the two works. Greene's style is, of course, character-
istic of himself, and his pleasant conceits find no place in
Shakespeare's mature drama. The curious moralizations
from natural history, the familiar use of proverbial lore,
the dissertations on abstract themes, and the laboured
style abounding in antithesis and alliteration combine to
place 29orastus in the long line of euphuistic novels, of
which Lyly was the originator. Greene is often
coarse, but he has that Elizabethan gift of sweetness,
which is unmistakable. The pathetic scene, in which
xii INTRODUCTION
BeIlaria laments over the loss of her child, appealed to
Shakespeare, and the lines in The kl/'inter's Tale
"The day frowns more and more: thou'rt like to have
A lullaby too rough" (Act !1. iii.)
are reminiscent of Greene's words : "Shalt thou have the
whistling winds for thy lullaby, and the sea foam instead
of sweet milk ?"
The changes, which Shakespeare introduced into
Greene's narrative, are due in the main to the exi-
gencies of dramatic form. The long-winded speeches
and dreary monologues of the novel lack dramatic
propriety. Consequently, the speeches are either omitted
altogether, shortened, or converted into dialogue. At the
same time, the action is concentrated in deference to the
claims of dramatic unity. When, for example, the first
act of the play opens, Polixenes is already about to depart,
and is only restrained by Sicily's importunity. To
dramatic causes, likewise, we owe the creation of Anti-
gonus, Paulina, and Autolycus, in whom respectively are
concentrated the nobles, ladies, and clowns of the novel.
At other times, Shakespeare enlarges from a brief hint
given by Greene. There is no counterpart in the novel
of the pathetic scene in Te lighter's Tale, in which the
INTRODUCTION xiii
character of young Maximillius is developed, merely the
statement that the guards "coming to the Queen's
lodging found her playing with her young son, Garinter."
In the same way, Greene's reference to the storm at sea
is expanded into Act III. sc. iii. of The lffinter's Tale.
Some further points of difference between the play
and the novel are the following : (i) The change of names
throughout. The part of Pandosto of Bohemia is taken by
Leontes of Sicily, that of Egistus of Sicily by Polixenes of
Bohemia. Hermione = Bellaria, Maximillius = Garinter,
Florizel = I)orastus, Perdita = Fawnia, Camillo = Franion
and Capnio. (ii) The reversal of the scenes. Fawnia is
wrecked on the coast of Sicilia, whereas, in the play,
Antigonus lands with the child on the coast of Bohemia.
(iii) The part played by the queen. In the novel the
queen actually dies, is embalmed, and has an epitaph set
over her tomb. Hermione swoons only, in order that the
motif of a return to life may be afterwards intoduced.
(iv) The mitigation of the coarseness and "horrors."
Greene exhibits Pandosto trying to murder himself after
the queen's death, and actually ending by suicide.
It is no small tribute to Greene's literary skill that
Shakespeare, on many occasions, adopted words or phrases
fi'om the novel, employing them often in wholly different
xiv INTRODUCTION
contexts. The expression used by Hermione in reference
to the king's cruelty, "'Tis rigour and not law," is
Greene's. Again, in Paulina's speech--
" 'Tis such as you,
That creeiO lie shadovs ou him and do sigh
At each his needless hearings, such as you
Nourish the cause of his awaking," (Act III. iii.)
we have a reminiscence of Greene's words regarding the
commons of Bohemia, " They went like shadows not
men." The mythological description--
"The gods themselves
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The shape of beasts upon them: Jupiter
Became a bull and bellow'd; the green Neptune
_4. ram and bleated ; and the fire-robed god,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
As I seem now," (Act 1V. iii.)
is closely modelled on Greene's lines : "And yet Dorastus
shame not at thy shepherd's weed: the heavenly gods
have sometimes earthly thoughts : Neptune became a ram,
Jupiter a bull, Apollo a shepherd: they gods, and yet in
love; and thou a man appointed to love." Finally,
such expressions in the play as" bag and baggage,"" make
Fortune blush," " I appeal to your conscience," "I do refer
me to the oracle," "by the seaside, browsing of ivy,"
INTRODUCTION xv
"mistress of the feast," etc., are mere echoes or adaptations
of the original.
It was this close following of his model that led
Shakespeare into many of his anachronisms and geograph-
ical errors. The descriptions of DeIphos as an island and
of Bohemia as surrounded by the sea had occurred earlier
in Greene. No doubt, Shakespeare, in his indifference
to such matters, went one more than the novelist, setting
side by side Apollo's oracle, a reference to Judas Iscariot,
a Puritan " who sings psalms to horn-pipes," " whitsun
pastorals," and the sculptor, Julio Romano. Brandes is
wrong, however, in making Shakespeare alone responsible
for introducing the queen as "a daughter of a Russian
emperor." The hint came from Greene, who applies a
similar title to Egistus' wife (ci. Dorastus, p. t6). It is
interesting, in view of the close relationship between the
two books, to find in the speech of the second gentleman
what seems like Shakespeare's direct reference to his
original: " This news, which is called true, is so like
an old tale that the verity of it is in strong suspicion."
(Act V. ii.)
Sources.--In a series of articles contributed to
Jnglische Studien (I878, I888), Caro traced the germ
of the romance to certain events which occurred in the
xvi INTRODUCTION
fourteenth-century history of Poland and Bohemia. Duke
Ziemowit of Massow, conceiving suspicions of his wife,
cast her into prison, where she bore a son. By the
duke's orders the queen was strangled, but the boy,
carried away in secret, was brought up by a peasant
woman. The king never ceased to lament his action,
and eventually his son was restored to him. We may
see in the unfortunate wife the prototype of Bellaria and
Hermione, and in the cup-bearer Dobek that of Franion
and Camillo. Caro further imagined that in Dorastus'
description of himself as "a knight born and brought up
in Trapolonia" there is a reference to 1Viassow. The
name Sicilia he took to be a corruption of Silesia. It is
significant in this connection, that Greene makes the wife
of Egistus a daughter of the Emperor of Russia. The
story was probably carried to England on the occasion of
the marriage between Richard II and Anne of Bohemia
in 1382, seeing that the lady in question was attached to
the Bohemian court of Carl IV. In the neighbourhood
of Rawa, at all events, the story soon became the subject
of popular ballads.'
It is in regard to the story of the queen that Shake-
speare differs most from Greene, by introducing an Alcestis
rntif. No English adaptation of the .llcestis is known to
INTRODUCTION xvii
have existed before the date of The IFinter's Tale (161 (9--
1I), but it is not impossible that Shakespeare read the
play in a literal Latin version, such as Stephens' ( 1567 ) .-
The influence of the llcestis may be traced again in the
character of Katharine in Henry IrlII. Both Greene's
novel and The IFinter's Tale may have been influenced,
directly or indirectly, by the Phenissa of Euripides, an
adaptation of which by Gascoigne and Kinwelmersh was
produced at Gray's Inn in 1566. The same motif, that
of a child exposed by the cruelty of a parent and dis-
covered by a shepherd, occurs there--
"For so it chanced, a shepherd passing by,
With pity moved, did stay his guiltless death;
He took him home and gave him to his wife
With homelier fare to feed and foster up." (Act I.)
Shakespeare's dramatis lersome may sometimes be traced
to a classic source. Autolycus can be referred back to
the XIXth book of the Odyssey and to the )V[etamor-
phoses of Ovid with which Shakespeare was familiar in
Golding's translation. The name Hermione may have
been derived fi'om the Indromache. Whatever may be
said of Shakespeare's " little Latin and less Greek " he
The story of Alcesti's is found in Pettie's Petite Palace of
Pleasure (see " King's Classics.")
INTRODUCTION xxi
" For as much," he tells us, " as she would persuade
me from wilful wickedness . . . I cast her off, having
spent the marriage money which I had obtained by her."
After his successful career as a pamphleteer Greene
turned to the drama in the hope of rivalling Marlowe.
Tamburlaine had set the fashion. Accordingly, as Greene
himself tells u.s in the prologue to dlphonsus--
- My hand, which used for to pen
The praide of love and Cupid's peerless power,
Will now begin to treat of bloody Mars,
Of doughty deeds and valiant victories."
Unfortunately, 41.plsonsus has all the rant but none of
the saving graces of Tamburlaine. Greene is, perhaps,
happiest in his attempt to imitate the famous Zenocrate
passage (Tamburlaine I.i.). But there is nothing in his
version to rival the effrontery of the Marlowan couplet--
- _And scale the icy mountains' lofty tops
Which with thy beauty will be 8oon resolved."
Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay was written in rivalry with
Faustus, but is conceived in the spirit of comedy rather
than of tragedy. Here again Greene attempts imitations
of particular passages in his model. The lines--
-Shall I be Helen in my forward fates
_As I am Helen in my matchless hue
And set rich Suffolk with my face afire .9 ,,
(Friar Bacon, Iii. 3")
TO THE GENTLEMEN READERS
HEALTH
T paltering Poet Aphranius, being blamed for
troubling the Emperor Trajan with so many doting
poems, adventured notwithstanding still to present him
with rude and homely verses, excusing himself with the
courtesy of the Emperor, which did as friendly accept,
as he fondly offered. So, gentlemen, if any condemn nay
rashness for troubling your ears with so many unlearned
pamphlets, I will straight shroud myself under the
shadow of your courtesies, and with Aphranius lay the
blame on you, as well for friendly reading them, as on
myself for fondly penning them. Hoping, though fond,
curious, or rather currish backbiters breathe out slanderous
speeches, yet the courteous readers (whom I fear to
offend) will requite my travail at the least with silence:
and in this hope I rest, wishing you health and happiness.
RoBERa" GREs.
XXV
TO THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE GEORGE CLIFFORD,
EARL OF CUMBERLAND,
ROBERT GREENE
N1SHETH INCREASE OF HONOUR AND VIRTUE.
THE Rascians (right honourable), when by long
gazing against the sun they become half blind, recover
their sights by looking on the black load-stone. Uni-
corns, being glutted with browsing on roots of liquorice,
sharpen their stomachs with crushing bitter grass.
Alexander vouchsafed as well to smile at the crooked
picture of Vulcan, as to wonder at the curious counterfeit
of Venus. The mind is sometimes delighted as much
with small trifles as with sumptuous triumphs; and as
well pleased with hearing of Pan's homely fancies, as of
Hercules' renowned labours.
Silly :Baucis could not serve Jupiter in a silver plate,
but in a wooden dish. All that honour Esculapius deck
not his shrine with jewels. Apollo gives oracles as well
to the poor man for his mite, as to the rich man for his
treasure. The stone Echites is not so much liked for
xxvii
THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY xxix
your honour, measuring my work by my will, and
weighing more the mind than the matter, will, when you
have cast a glance at this toy, with Minerva, under your
golden target cover a deformed owl. And in this hope
I rest, wishing unto you, and the virtuous Countess your
wife, such happy success as your honours can desire or I
imagine.
Your Lordship's most dutifully to command,
THE HISTORY
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA
MONG all the passions wherewith human minds
are perplexed, there is none that so galleth with
restless despite as the infectious sore of jealousy; for
all other griefs are either to be appeased with sensible
persuasions, to be cured with wholesome counsel, to be
relieved in want, or by tract of time to be worn out,
jealousy only excepted which is so sauced with sus-
picious doubts and pinching mistrust, that whoso seeks
by friendly counsel to rase out this hellish passion, it
forthwith suspecteth that he giveth this advice to cover
his own guiltiness. Yea, who so is pained with this
restless torment doubteth all, distrusteth himself, is always
frozen with fear and fired with suspicion, having that
wherein consisteth all his joy to be the breeder of his
misery. rea, it is such a heavy enemy to that holy
estate of matrimony, sowing between the married couples
B
2 THE HISTORY OF
such deadly seeds of ecret hatred, as, love being once
rased out by spiteful distrust, there oft ensueth bloody
revenge, as this ensuing history manifestly proveth:
wherein Pandosto, furiously incensed by causeless
jealousy, procured the death of his most loving and loyal
wife and his own endless sorrow and misery.
In the country of Bohemia, there reigned a king called
Pandosto, whose fortunate success in wars against his
foes, and bountiful courtesy towards his friends in peace,
made him to be greatly feared and loved of all men.
This Pandosto had to wife a lady called Bellaria, by birth
royal, learned by education, fair by nature, by virtues
famous, so that it was hard to judge whether her beauty,
fortune, or virtue won the greatest commendations.
These two, linked together in perfect love, led their lives
with such fortunate content that their subjects greatly
rejoiced to see their quiet disposition. They had not
been married long, but Fortune, willing to increase their
happiness, lent them a son, so adorned with the gifts of
nature, as the perfection of the child greatly augmented
the love of the parents and the joy of their commons ;
in so much that the Bohemians, to show their inward joys
by outward actions, made bonfires and triumphs throughout
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA
all the kingdom, appointing jousts and tourneys tbr the
honour of their young prince: whither resorted not only
his nobles, but also divers kings and princes which were
his neighbours, willing to shew their friendship they
ought to Pandosto, and to win fame and glory by their
prowess and valour. Pandosto, whose mind was fraught
with princely liberality, entertained the kings, princes, and
noblemen with such submiss courtesy and magnifical
bounty, that they all saw how willing he was to gratify
their good wills, making a general feast for his subjects,
which continued by the space of twenty days ; all which
time the jousts and tourneys were kept to the great content
both of the lords and ladies there present. This solemn
triumph being once ended, the assembly, taking their leave
of Pandosto and 13ellaria, the young son, who was called
Garinter, was nursed up in the house to the great joy and
content of the parents.
Fortune envious of such happy success, willing to shew
some sign of her inconstancy, turned her wheel, and
darkened their bright sun of prosperity with the misty
clouds of mishap and misery. For it so happened that
Egistus, king of Sicilia, who in his youth had been
brought up with Pandosto, desirous to shew that neither
tract of time nor distance of place could diminish their
4 THE HISTORY OF
former riendship, provided a navy of ships and sailed into
Bohemia to visit his old fi'iend and companion; who,
hearing of his arrival, went himself in person and his
wife Bellaria, accompanied with a great train of lords and
ladies, to meet Egistus; and espying him, alighted from
his horse, embraced him very lovingly, protesting that
nothing in the world could have happened more accept-
able to him than his coming, wishing his wife to welcome
his old friend and acquaintance: who, to shew how she
liked him whom her husband loved entertained him with
such familiar courtesy as Egistus perceived himsel[ to be
very well welcome. After they had thus saluted and
embraced each other, they mounted again on horseback
and rode toward the city, devising and recounting how
being children they had passed their youth in friendly
pastimes: where, by the means of the citizens, Egistus
was received with triumphs and shows, in such sort that
he marvelled how on so small a warning they could make
such preparation.
Passing the streets thus with such rare sights they rode
on to the palace, where Pandosto entertained Egistus and
his Sicilians with such banqueting and sumptuous cheer,
so royally as they all had cause to commend his princely
liberality ; yea, the very basest slave that was known to
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 5
come from Sicilia was used with such courtesy that
Egistus might easily perceive how both he and his were
honoured for his friend's sake. Bellaria, who in her time
was the flower of courtesy, willing to shew how un-
feignedly she loved her husband by his friend's enter-
tainment, used him likewise so familiarly that her
countenance bewrayed how her mind was affected to-
wards him, oftentimes coming herself into his bed
chamber to see that nothing should be antiss to mislike
hint. This honest familiarity increased daily more and
more betwixt them ; for Bellaria, noting in Egistus a
princely and bountiful mind, adorned with sundry and
excellent qualities, and Egistus, finding in her a virtuous
and courteous disposition, there grew such a secret
uniting of their affections, that the one could not well be
without the company of the other: in so much, that
when Pandosto was busied with such urgent affairs that
he could not be present with his friend Egistus, Bellaria
would walk with hint into the garden, where they two in
private and pleasant devices would pass away the time to
both their contents. This custom still continuing betwixt
them, a certain melancholy passion entering the mind of
Pandosto drave him into sundry and doubtful thoughts.
First, he called to mind the beauty of his wife Bellaria,
6 THE HISTORY OF
the comeliness and bravery of his friend Egistus, thinking
that love was above all laws and, therefore, to be stayed
with no law; that it was hard to put fire and flax
together without burning ; that their open pleasures might
breed his secret displeasures. He considered with him-
self that Egistus was a man and must needs love, that his
wife was a woman and, therefore, subject unto love, and
that where fancy forced friendship was of no force.
These and such like doubtful thoughts, a long time
smothering in his stomach, began at last to kindle in his
mind a secret mistrust, which, increased by suspicion, grew
at last to a flaming jealousy that so tormented him as he
could take no rest. He then began to measure all their
actions, and to misconstrue of their too private familiarity,
judging that it was not for honest affection, but" for dis-
ordinate fancy, so that he began to watch them more
narrowly to see if he could get any true or certain proof
to confirm his doubtful suspicion. While thus he noted
their looks and gestures and suspected their thoughts and
meanings, they two silly souls, who doubted nothing of
this his treacherous intent, frequented daily each other's
company, which drave him into such a frantic passion,
that he began to bear a secret hate to Egistus and a
louring countenance to Bellaria ; who marvelling at such
8 THE HISTORY OF
determinate mischief, shewing him what an offence murder
was to the Gods ; how such unnatural actions did more
displease the heavens than men, that causeless cruelty
did seldom or never escape without revenge: he laid
before his face that Egistus was his friend, a king, and
one that was come into his kingdom to confirm a league
of perpetual amity betwixt them; that he had and did
shew him a most friendly countenance ; how Egistus was
not only honoured of his own people by obedience, but
also loved of the Bohemians for his courtesy, and that if
he now should without any just or manifest cause poison
him, it would not only be a great dishonour to his majesty,
and a means to sow perpetual enmity between the Sicilians
and the Bohemians, but also his own subjects would repine
at such treacherous cruelty. These and such like per-
suasions ot Franion--for so was his cupbearer called---
could no whir prevail to dissuade him from his devilish
enterprise, but, remaining resolute in his determination (his
fury so fired with rage as it could not be appeased with
reason), he began with bitter taunts to take up his man,
and to lay before him two baits, preferment and death;
saying that if he should poison Egistus, he would advance
him to high dignities; if he refused to do it of an
obstinate mind, no torture should be too great to requite
o THE HISTORY OF
is a whetstone to courage: there is nothing sweeter than
promotion, nor lighter than report. Care not then though
most count thee a traitor, so all call thee rich. Dignity,
Franion, advanceth thy posterity, and evil report can
hurt but thyself. Know this, where eagles build falcons
may prey ; where lions haunt, foxes may steal. Kings
are known to command, servants ate blameless to consent :
fear not thou then to lift at Egistus ; Pandosto shall bear
the burthen. Yea but, Franion, conscience is a worm
that ever biteth, but never ceaseth: that which is rubbed
with the stone Galactites will never be hot. Flesh dipped
in the sea geum will never be sweet : the herb Trigion
being once bit with an aspis never groweth, and conscience
once stained with innocent blood is always tied to a guilty
remorse. Prefer thy content before riches, and a clear
mind before dignity; so being poor thou shalt have rich
peace, or else rich, thou shalt enjoy disquiet.'
Franion having muttered out these or such like words,
seeing either he must die with a clear mind, or live with
a spotted conscience, he was so cumbered with divers
cogitations that he could take no rest, until at last he
determined to break the matter to Egistus; but, fearing
that the king should either suspect or hear of such
matters, he concealed the device till opportunity would
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA i
permit him to reveal it. Lingering thus in doubtful fear,
in an evening he went to Egistus' lodging, and desirous to
break with him of certain affairs that touched the king,
after all were commanded out of the chamber, Franion
made manifest the whole conspiracy which Pandosto had
devised against him, desiring Ugistus not to account him
a traitor for bewraying his master's counsel, but to think
that he did it for conscience: hoping that although his
master, inflamed with rage or incensed by some sinister
reports or slanderous speeches, had imagined such cause-
less mischief, yet when time should pacify his anger, and
try those talebearers but flattering parasites, then he would
count him as a faithful servant that with such care had
kept his master's credit. Egistus had not fully heard
Franion tell forth his tale, but a quaking fear possessed all
his limbs, thinking that there was some treason wrought,
and that Franion did but shadow his craft with these false
colours: wherefore he began to wax in choler, and said
that he doubted not Pandosto, sith he was his friend, and
there had never as yet been any breach of amity. He had
not sought to invade his lands, to conspire with his enemies,
to dissuade his subjects from their allegiance ; but in word
and thought he rested his at all times : he knew not, there-
fore, any cause that should move Pandosto to seek his
2 THE HISTORY OF
death, but suspected it to be a compacted knavery of the
Bohemians to bring the king and him at odds.
Franion, staying him in the midst of his talk, told him
that to dally with princes was with the swans to sing
against their death, and that, if the Bohemians had intended
any such nfischief, it might have been better brought to
pass than by revealing the conspiracy: therefore his Ma-
jesty did ill to misconstrue of his good meaning, sith his
intent was to hinder treason, not to become a traitor ; and
to confirm his promises, if it pleased his Majesty to fly
into Sicilia for the safeguard of his life, he would go with
him, and if then he found not such a practise to be pre-
tended, let his imagined treachery be repaid with most
monstrous torments. Egistus, hearing the solemn pro-
testation of Franion, began to consider that in love and
kingdoms neither faith nor law is to be respected,
doubting that Pandosto thought by his death to destroy
his men, and with speedy war to invade Sicilia. These
and such doubts throughly weighed, he gave great thanks
to Franion, promising if he might with life return to
Syracusa, that he would create him a duke in Sicilia,
craving his counsel how he might escape out of the
country. Franion, who having some small skill in navi-
gation was well acquainted with the ports and havens, and
4 THE HISTORY OF
as they were quietly floating on the sea, so Pandosto and
his citizens were in an uproar ; for, seeing that the Sicilians
without taking their leave were fled away by night, the
Bohemians feared some treason, and the king thought that
without question his suspicion was true, seeing his cup-
bearer had bewrayed the sum of his secret pretence.
Whereupon he began to imagine that Franion and his
wife Bellaria had conspired with Egistus, and that the
frvent affection she bare him was the only means of his
secret departure ; in so much that, incensed with rage, he
commands that his wife should be carried to straight
prison until they heard further of his pleasure. The
guard, unwilling to lay their hands on such a virtuous
princess and yet fearing the king's fury, went very sorrow-
ful to fulfil their charge. Coming to the queen's lodging
they found her playing with her young son Garinter, unto
whom with tears doing the message, Bellaria, astonished
at such a hard censure and finding her clear conscience a
sure advocate to plead in her case, went to the prison most
willingly, where with sighs and tears she passed away the
time till she might come to her trial.
But Pandosto, whose reason was suppressed with rage
and whose unbridled folly was incensed with fury, seeing
Franion had bewrayed his secrets, and that lgistus might
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA
well be railed on, but not revenged, determined to wreak
all his wrath on poor Bellaria. He, therefore, caused a
general proclamation to be made through all his realm
that the queen and Egistus had, by the help of Franion,
not only committed most incestuous adultery, but also had
conspired the king's death; whereupon the traitor Franion
was fled away with Egistus, and Bellaria was most justly
imprisoned. This proclamation being once blazed through
the country, although the virtuous disposition of the queen
did half discredit the contents, yet the sudden and speedy
passage of Egistus and the secret departure of Franion in-
duced them, the circumstances throughly considered, to
think that both the proclamation was true, and the king
greatly injured: yet they pitied her case, as sorrowful
that so good a lady should be crossed with such adverse
fortune. But the king, whose restless rage would admit no
pity, thought that although he might sufficiently requite
his wife's falsehood with the bitter plague of pinching
penury, yet his mind should never be glutted with revenge
till he might have fit time and opportunity to repay the
treachery of Egistus with a fatal injury. But a curst cow
hath ofttimes short horns, and a willing mind but a weak
arm ; for Pandosto, although he felt that revenge was a
spur to war, and that envy always proffereth steel, yet he
6 THE HISTORY OF
saw that Egistus was not only of great puissance and prowess
to withstand him, but had also many kings of his alliance
to aid him, if need should serve for he married the
Emperor's daughter of Russia. These and the like
considerations something daunted Pandosto his courage, so
that he was content rather to put up a manifest injury
with peace, than hunt after revenge, dishonour and
loss; determining, since Egistus had escaped scot-
free, that Bellaria should pay for all at an unreasonable
price.
Remaining thus resolute in his determination, Bellaria
continuing still in prison and hearing the contents of the
proclamation, knowing that her mind was never touched
with such affection, nor that Egistus had ever offered her
such discourtesy, would gladly have come to her answer
that both she might have known her just accusers and
cleared herself of that guiltless crime.
But Pandosto was so inflamed with rage and infected
with jealousy, as he would not vouchsafe to hear her, nor
admit any just excuse ; so that she was fain to make a
virtue of her need and with patience to bear those heavy
injuries. As thus she lay crossed with calamities a great
cause to increase her grief she found herself quick with
child, which as soon as she felt stir in her body she burst
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 7
forth into bitter tears, exclaiming against fortune in these
terms :
Alas, Bellarla, how unfortunate art thou, because for-
tunate! Better thou hadst been born a beggar than a
prince, so shouldest thou have bridled fortune with want,
where now she sporteth herself with thy plenty. Ah,
happy life, where poor thoughts and mean desires live in
secure content, not fearing fortune because too low for
fortune! Thou seest now, Bellaria, that care is a
companion to honour, not to poverty ; that high cedars
are crushed with tempests, when low shrubs are not
touched with the wind; precious diamonds are cut with
the tle, when despised pebbles lie safe in the sand.
Delphos is sought to by princes, not beggars, and For-
tune's altars smoke with kings' presents, not with poor
men's gifts. Happy are such, Bellaria, that curse fortune
for contempt, not t'ear, and may wish they were, not
sorrow they have been. Thou art a princess, Bellaria,
and yet a prisoner ; born to the one by descent, assigned
to the other by despite ; accused without cause, and there-
fore oughtest to die without care, for patience is a shield
against fortune, and a guiltless mind yieldeth to sorrow.
Ah, but infamy galleth unto death, and liveth after death :
report i. plumed with Time's feathers, and envy oftentime.
C
THE HISTORY OF
soundeth Fame's trumpet : thy suspected adultery shall fly
in the air, and thy known virtues shall lie hid in the
earth ; one mole staineth the whole face, and what is once
spotted with infamy can hardly be worn out with time.
Die then, Bellaria ; Bellaria, die ; for if the Gods should
say thou art guiltless, yet envy would hear the Gods, but
never believe the Gods. Ah, hapless wretch, cease these
terms : desperate thoughts are fit for them that fear shame,
not for such as hope for credit. Pandosto hath darkened
thy fame, but shall never discredit thy virtues. Suspicion
may enter a false action, but proof shall never put in his
plea: care not then for envy, sith report hath a blister
on her tongue, and let sorrow bite them which offend,
not touch thee that art faultless. ]3ut alas, poor soul, how
canst thou but sorrow .} Thou art with child, and by him
that in stead of kind pity pincheth thee in cold prison.'
And with that, such gasping sighs so stopping her
breath that she could not utter any more words, but
wringing her hands, and gushing forth stream of tears,
she passed away the time with bitter complaints. The
jailor, pitying those her heavy passions, thinking that if the
king knew she were with child he would somewhat appease
his fury and release her from prison, went in all haste and
certified Pandosto what the effect of Bellaria's complaint
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 9
was ; who no sooner heard the jailor say she was with child,
but as one possessed with a frenzy he rose up in a rage, swear-
ing that she and the bastard brat she was Ebig-] withal should
die if the Gods themselves said no ; thinking that surely
by computation of time that Egistus and not he was the
father to the child. This suspicious thought galled afresh
this half healed sore, in so much as he could take no rest
until he might mitigate his choler with a just revenge,
which happened presently after. For Bellaria was brought
to bed of a fair and beautiful daughter, which no sooner
Pandosto heard, but he determined that both Bellaria and
the young infant should be burnt with fire. His nobles
hearing of the king's cruel sentence sought by persuasions
to divert him from his bloody determination, laying before
his face the innocency of the child, and virtuous disposition
of his wife, how she had continually loved and honoured
him so tenderly that without due proof he could not, nor
ought not to appeach her of that crime. And if she had
faulted, yet it were more honourable to pardon with mercy
than to punish with extremity, and more kingly to be
commended of pity than accused of rigour. And as for
the child, if he should punish it for the mother's offence,
it were to strive against nature and justice ; and that un-
natural actions do more offend the Gods than men ; how
zo THE HISTORY OF
causeless cruelty nor innocent blood never seapes without
revenge. These and such like reasons could not appease
his rage, but he rested resolute in this, that Bellaria being
an adultress the child was a bastard, and he would not
suffer that such an infamous brat should call him father.
Yet at last, seeing his noblemen were importunate upon
him, he was content to spare the child's life, and yet to
put it to a worse death. For he found out this device,
that seeing, as he thought, it came by fortune, so he
would commit it to the charge of fortune ; and, therefore,
he caused a little cock-boat to be provided, wherein he
meant to put the babe, and then send it to the mercies of
the seas and the destinies. From this his peers in no wise
could persuade him, but that he sent presently two of his
guard to fetch the child: who being come to the prison,
and with weeping tears recounting their master's message,
Bellaria no sooner heard the rigorous resolution of her
merciless husband, but she fell down in a swound, so that
all thought she had been dead : yet at last being come to
herself, she cried and scritched out in this wise:
' Alas, sweet unfortunate babe, scarce born before envied
by fortune ! would the day of thy birth had been the term
of thy life; then shouldest thou have made an end to care
and prevented thy father's rigour. Thy faults cannot yet
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA z
deserve sucli hateful revenge ; thy days are too short for
so sharp a doom; but thy untimely death must pay thy
mother's debts, and her guiltless crime must be thy ghastly
curse. And shalt thou, sweet babe, be committed to
fortune, when thou art already spited by fortune ? Shall
the seas be thy harbour and the hard boat thy cradle .
Shall thy tender mouth, instead of sweet kisses, be nipped
with bitter storms ? Shalt thou have the whistling winds
for thy lullaby, and the salt sea foam instead of sweet milk ?
_Alas, what destinies would assign such hard hap ? What
father would be so cruel, or what gods will not revenge
such rigour ? Let me kiss thy lips, sweet infant, and
wet thy tender cheeks with my tears, and put this chain
about thy little neck, that if fortune save thee, it may help
to succour thee. Thus, since thou must go to surge in the
ghasfful seas, with a sorrowful kiss I bid thee farewell,
and I pray the gods thou mayest fare well.'
Such and so great was her grief, that her vital spirits
being suppressed with sorrow, she fell again down into a
trance, having her senses so sorted with care that after she
was revived yet she lost her memory, and lay for a great
time without moving, as one in a trance. The guard left
her in this perplexity, and carried the child to the king,
who, quite devoid of pity, commanded that without delay
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 2 3
band, but their pretence being partly spied, she counselled
them to fly away by night for their better safety. Bellaria,
who standing like a prisoner at the bar, feeling in herself
a clear conscience to withstand her false accusers, seeing
that no less than death could pacify her husband's wrath,
waxed bold and desired that she might have law and
justice, for mercy she neither craved nor howd for ; and
that those perjured wretches which had falsely accused
her to the king might be brought before her face to give
in evidence. But Pandosto, whose rage and jealousy was
such as no reason nor equity could appease, told her that,
for her accusers, they were of such credit as their words
were sufficient witness, and that the sudden and secret
flight of Egistus and Franion confirmed that which they
had confessed and as for her, it was her part to deny
such a monstrous crime, and to be impudent in forswear-
ing the fact, since she had past all shame in committing
the fault : but her stale countenance should stand for no
coin, for as the bastard which she bare was served, so she
should with some cruel death be requited. Bellaria, no
whir dismayed with this rough reply, told her husband
Pandosto that he spake upon choler and not conscience,
for her virtuous life had been ever such as no spot of
suspicion could ever stain. And if she had borne a
2 4 THE HISTORY OF
friendly countenance to Egist, it was in respect he was
his friend, and not for any lusting affection therefore, if
she were condemned without any further proof it was
rigour and not law.
The noblemen, which sate in judgment, said that
]ellaria spake reason, and intreated the king that the
accusers might be openly examined and sworn, and if
then the evidence were such as the jury might find her
guilty (for seeing she was a prince she ought to be tried
by her peers), then let her have such punishment as the
extremity of the law will assign to such malefactors.
The king presently made answer that in this case he
might and would dispense with the law, and that the jury
being once panelled they should take his word for
sufficient evidence ; otherwise he would make the proudest
of them repent it. The noblemen seeing the king in
choler were all whist ; but ]ellaria, whose life then
hung in the balance, fearing more perpetual infamy than
momentary death, told the king if his fury might stand
for a law that it were vain to have the jury yield their
verdict and, therefore, she fell down upon her knees, and
desired the king that for the love he bare to his young
on Garinter, whom she brought into the world, that he
vould grant her a request ; which was this, that it would
z6 THE HISTORY OF
journey sent them to Delphos : they willing to fulfil the
king's command, and desirous to see the situation nd
custom of the island, dispatched their affairs with as much
speed as might be, and embarked themselves to this
voyage, which, the wind and weather serving fit for their
purpose, was soon ended. For within three weeks they
arrived at Delphos, where they were no sooner set on
land but with great devotion they went to the ten:pie of
Apollo, and there offering sacrifice to the God and gifts
to the priest, as the custom was, they humbly craved an
answer of their demand. They had not long kreeled at
the altar, but Apollo with a loud voice said : ' Bohemians,
what you find behind the altar take, and depot.' They
forthwith obeying the oracle found a scroll of parchment,
wherein was written these words in letters of gold--
Ti4E ORACLE
SUSPICION IS NO PROOF -" JF..ALOUSY IS AN UNEQUAL JUDGE BELLARIA
IS CHASTE ." EGITUS BLAMELESS -" FKANON A TRUE SUBJECT -"
PANDOSTO TREACHEROUS I H|S BABE A INNOCENT AND THE
KING SHALL LIVE XVITHOUT AN HEIR -I THAT XVHICH IS LOST
BE NOT FOUND.
As soon as they had taken out this scroll the priest of
the God commanded them that they should not presume
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA z 7
to read it before they came in the presence of Pandosto,
unless they would incur the displeasure of Apollo. The
Bohemian lords carefully obeying his command, taking
their leave of the priest with great reverence, departed out
of the temple, and went to their ships, and as soon as wind
would permit them sailed toward Bohemia, whither in
short time they safely arrived; and with great triumph
issuing out of their ships went to the king's palace, whom
they found in his chamber accompanied with other noble-
men. Pandosto no sooner saw them but with a merry
countenance he welcomed them home, asking what news .
they told his majesty that they had received an answer o
the God written in a scroll, but with this charge, that
they should not read the contents before they came in the
presence of the king, and with that they delivered him the
parchment : but his noblemen entreated him that, sith
therein was contained either the safety of his wife's life
and honesty or her death and perpetual infamy, that he
would have his nobles and commons assembled in the
judgment hall, where the queen, brought in as prisoner,
should hear the contents. If she were found guilty by
the oracle of the God, then all should have cause to
think his rigour proceeded of due desert: if her grace
were found faultless, then she should be cleared before
28 THE HISTORY OF
all, sith she had been accused openly. This pleased the
king so, that he appointed the day, and assembled all his
lords and commons, and caused the queen to be brought
in before the judgment seat, commanding that the indict-
ment should be read wherein she was accused of adultery
with Egistus and of conspiracy with Franion. Bellaria
hearing the contents was no whit astonished, but made
this cheerful answer--
' If the divine powers be privy to human actions--as no
doubt they are--I hope my patience shall make fortune
blush, and my unspotted life shall stain spiteful discredit.
For although lying report hath sought to appeach mine
honour, and suspicion hath intended to soil my credit with
infamy, yet where virtue keepeth the fort, report and sus-
picion may assail, but never sack : how I have led my life
before Egistus' coming, I appeal, Pandosto, to the gods
and to thy conscience. What hath passed betwixt him
and me, the gods only know, and I hope will presently
reveal: that I loved Egistus I cannot deny ; that I
honoured him I shame not to confess : to the one I was
forced by his virtues, to the other for his dignities. But as
touching lascivious lust, I say Egistus is honest, and hope
myself to be found without spot: for Franion, I can
neither accuse him nor excuse him, for I was not privy to
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA z 9
his departure; and that this is true which I have here
rehearsed I refer myself to the divine oracle.'
Bellaria had no sooner said but the king commanded
that one of his dukes should read the contents of the
scroll, which after the commons had heard they gave a
great shout, rejoicing and clapping their hands that the
queen was clear of that false accusation. But the king,
whose conscience was a witness against him of his witless
fury and false suspected jealousy, was so ashamed of his
rash folly that he entreated his nobles to persuade Bellaria
to forgive and forget these injuries; promising not only
to shew himself a loyal and loving husband, but also to
reconcile himself to Egistus and Franion; revealing then
before them all the cause of their secret flight, and how
treacherously he thought to have practised his death, if
the good mind of his cupbearer had not prevented his
purpose. As thus he was relating the whole matter, there
was word brought him that his young son Garinter was
suddenly dead, which news so soon as Bellaria heard,
surcharged before with extreme joy and now suppressed
with heavy sorrow, her vital spirits were so stopped that
she fell down presently dead, and could be never revived.
This sudden sight so appalled the king's senses, that he
sank from his seat in a swound, so as he was fain to be
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 3
friend I have sought to betray, and yet the gods are slack
to plague such offences. Ah, unjust Apollo ! Pandosto
is the man that hath committed the fault; why should
Garinter, silly child, abide the pain ? Vell, sith the gods
mean to prolong my days to increase nay dolour, I will
offer my guilty blood a sacrifice to those sackless souls
whose lives are lost by my rigorous folly.'
And with that he reached at a rapier to have murdered
himself, but his peers being present stayed him from such
a bloody act, persuading him to think that the common-
wealth consisted on his safety, and that those sheep could
not but perish that wanted a shepherd; wishing that if
he would not live for himself, yet he should ha,e care of
his subjects, and to put such fancies out of his mind, sith
in sores past help salves do not heal but hurt, and in
things past cure, care is a corrosive. Vith these and
such like persuasions the king was overcome, and began
somewhat to quiet his mind ; so that as soon as he could
go abroad he caused his wife to be embalmed, and wrapt
in lead with her young son Garinter ; erecting a rich and
famous sepulchre wherein he entombed them both, making
such solemn obsequies at her funeral as all Bohemia might
perceive he did greatly repent him of his forepassed folly ;
3 2 THE HISTORY OF
causing this epitaph to be engraven on her tomb in letters
of gold--
THE EPITAPH
HERE LIES ENTOMBED BELLARIA FAIR
FALSELY ACCUSED TO BE UNCHASTE
CLEARED BY APOLLO'S SACRED DOOM
YET SLAIN BY JEALOUSY AT LAST.
,VHAT ERE THOU BE THAT PASSEST BY
CURSE HIM THAT CAUSED THIS QUEEN TO
This epitaph being engraven, Pandosto would once a
day repair to the tomb, and there with watery plaints
bewail his misfortune, coveting no other companion but
sorrow, nor no other harmony but repentance. But
leaving him to his dolorous passions, at last let us come
to shew the tragical discourse of the young infant.
Who being tossed with wind and wave floated two
whole days without succour, ready at every puff to be
drowned in the sea, till at last the tempest ceased and
the little boat was driven with the tide into the coast of
Sicilia, where sticking upon the sands it rested. Fortune
minding to be wanton, willing to shew that as she hath
wrinkles on her brows so she hath dimples in her cheeks,
thought after so many sour looks to lend a feigned smile,
and after a puffing storm to bring a pretty calm, she began
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA
thus to dally. It fortuned a poor mercenary shepherd
that dwelled in Sicilia, who got his living by other men's
flocks, missed one of his sheep, and, thinking it had
strayed into the covert that was bard by, sought very
diligently to find that which he could not see, fearing
either that the wolves or eagles had undone him (for he
was so poor as a sheep was half his substance), wandered
down toward the sea cliffs to see if perchance the sheep
was browsing on the sea ivy, whereon they greatly do
feed ; but not finding her there, as he was ready to return
to his flock he heard a child cry, but knowing there was
no house near, he thought he had mistaken the sound and
that it was the bleating of his sheep. ,Vherefore, looking
more narrowly, as he cast his eye to the sea he spied a
little boat, from whence, as he attentively listened, he
might hear the cry to come. Standing a good while in
a maze, at last he went to the shore, and wading to the
boat, as he looked in he saw the little babe lying all
alone ready to die for hunger and cold, wrapped in a
mantle of scarlet richly embroidered with gold, and
having a chain about the neck.
The shepherd, who before had never seen so fair a
babe nor so rich jewels, thought assuredly that it was
some little god, and began with great devotion to knock
34 THE HISTORY OF
on his breast. The babe, who writhed with the head to
seek for the pap, began again to cry afresh, whereby the
poor man knew that it was a child, which by some
sinister means was driven thither by distress of weather ;
marvelling how such a silly infant, which by the mantle
and the chain could not be but born of noble parentage,
should be so hardly crossed with deadly mishap. The
poor shepherd, perplexed thus with divers thoughts,
took pity of the child, and determined with himself to
carry it to the king, that there it might be brought up
according to the worthiness of birth, for his ability could
not afford to foster it, though his good mind was willing
to further it. Taking therefore the child in his arms, as
he folded the mantle together the better to defend it
fi'om cold there fell down at his foot a very fair and
rich purse, wherein he found a great sum of gold; which
sight so revived the shepherd's spirits, as he was greatly
ravished with joy and daunted with fear; joyful to see
such a sum in his power, and fearful, if it should be
known, that it might breed his further danger. Necessity
wished him at the least to retain the gold, though he
would not keep the child : the simplicity of his conscience
feared him from such deceitful bribery. Thus was the
poor man perplexed with a doubtful dilemma until at
36 THE HISTORY OF
having that rich chain about the neck. But at last, when
he shewed her the purse full of gold, she began to
simper something sweetly, and, taking her husband about
the neck kissed him after her homely fashion, saying that
she hoped God had seen their want and now meant to
relieve their poverty, and, seeing they could get no
children, had sent them this little babe to be their heir.
' Take heed, in any case,' quoth the shepherd, ' that you
be secret, and blab it not out when you meet with your
gossips, for, if you do, we are like not only to lose the
gold and jewels, but our other goods and lives.' ' Tusb,'
quoth his wife, 'profit is a good hatch before the door:
fear not, I have other things to talk of than this ; but I
pray you let us lay up the money surely and the jewels,
lest by any mishap it be spied.'
After that they had set all things in order, the shepherd
went to his sheep with a merry note, and the good wife
learned to sing lullaby at home with her young babe,
wrapping it in a homely blanket instead of a rich mantle;
nourishing it so cleanly and carefully as it began to be a jolly
girl, in so much that they began both of them to be very fond
of it, seeing as it waxed in age so it increased in beauty.
The shepherd every night at his coming home would sing
and dance it on his knee and prattle, that in short time it
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 37
began to speak and call him Dad and her Mam : at last
when it grew to ripe years that it was about seven years
old, the shepherd left keeping of other men's sheep, and
with the money he found in the purse he bought him the
lease of a pretty farm, and got a small flock of sheep,
which, when Fawnia (for so they named the child) came
to the age of ten years, he set her to keep, and she with
such diligence performed her charge as the sheep prospered
marvellously under her hand. Fawnia thought Porrus
had been her father and Mopsa her mother (for so was
the shepherd and his wife called), honoured and obeyed
them with such reverence that all the neighbours praised
the dutiful obedience of the child. Porrus grew in short
time to be a man of some wealth and credit, for fortune
so favoured him in having no charge but Fawnia, that he
began to purchase land, intending after his death to give
it to his daughter, so that divers rich farmers' sons came
as wooers to his house. For Fawnia was something
cleanly attired, being of such singular beauty and excellent
wit, that whoso saw her would have thought she had been
some heavenly nymph and not a mortal creature, in so
much that, when she came to the age of sixteen years, she
so increased with exquisite perfection both of body and
mind, as her natural disposition did bewray that she was
38 THE HISTORY OF
born of some high parentage ; but the people thinking she
was daughter to the shepherd Porrus rested only amazed
at her beauty and wit; yea, she won such favour and
commendations in every man's eye, as her beauty was not
only praised in the country, but also spoken of in the court ;
yet such was her submiss modesty, that although her praise
daily increased, her mind was no whit puffed up with pride,
but humbled herself as became a country maid and the
daughter of a poor shepherd. Every day she went forth
with her sheep to the field, keeping them with such care
and diligence as all men thought she was very painful,
defending her face from the heat of the sun with no other
veil but with a garland made of boughs and flowers, which
attire became her so gallantly as she seemed to be the
goddess Flora herself for beauty.
Fortune, who all this while had shewed a friendly face,
began now to turn her back and to shew a louring counten-
ance, intending as she had given Fawnia a slender check,
so she would give her a harder mate ; to bring which to
pass, she laid her train on this wise. Egistus had but one
only son, called Dorastus, about the age of twenty years;
a prince so decked and adorned with the gifts of nature,
so fraught with beauty and virtuous qualities, as not only
his father joyed to have so good a son, but all his commons
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 39
rejoiced that God had lent them such a noble prince
to succeed in the kingdom. Egistus placing all his joy
in the perfection of his son, seeing that he was now
marriageable, sent ambassadors to the king of Denmark
to entreat a marriage between him and his daughter, who
willingly consenting made answer that the next spring,
if it please Egistus with his son to come into Denmark,
he doubted not but they should agree upon reasonable
conditions. Egistus, resting satisfied with this friendly
answer, thought convenient in the meantime to break with
his son: finding therefore on a day fit opportunity, he
spake to him in these fatherly terms :
' Dorastus, thy youth warneth me to prevent the worst,
and mine age to provide the best. Opportunities neglected
are signs of folly : actions measured by time are seldom
bitten with repentance. Thou art young, and I old; age
hath taught me that which thy youth cannot yet conceive.
I, therefore, will counsel thee as a father, hoping thou wilt
obey as a child. Thou seest my white hairs-are blossoms
for the grave, and thy fresh colour fruit for time and
fortune, so that it behoveth me to think how to die and
for thee to care how to live. My crown I must leave by
death, and thou enjoy my kingdom by succession, wherein
I hope thy virtue and prowess shall be such, as though my
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 4
increasing. Time passed with folly may be repented, but not
recalled. If thou marry in age, thy wife's fresh colours
will breed in thee dead thoughts and suspicion, and thy
white hairs her loathsomeness and sorrow ; for Venus'
affections are not fed with kingdoms, or treasures, but with
youthful conceits and sweet anaours. Vulcan was allotted
to shake the tree, but Mars allowed to reap the fruit.
Yield, Dorastus, to thy father's persuasions, which may
prevent thy perils. I have chosen thee a wife, fair by
nature, royal by birth, by virtues famous, learned by
education and rich by possessions, so that it is hard to
judge whether her bounty or fortune, her beauty or virtue
be of greater force. I mean, Dorastus, Euphania, daughter
and heir to the king of Denmark.'
Egistus pausing here awhile, looking when his son should
make him answer, and seeing that he stood still as one in
a trance, he shook him up thus sharply:
' Well, I)orastus, take heed ; the tree Jklpya wasteth not
with fire, but withereth with the dew : that which love
nourisheth not, perisheth with hate. If thou like
Euphania, thou breedest nay content, and in loving her
thou shalt have nay love ; otherwise 'and with that he
flung from his son in a rage, leaving him a sorrowful man,
in that he had by denial displeased his father, and half
4 z THE HISTORY OF
angry with himself that he could not yield to that passion
whereto both reason and his father persuaded him. But
see how fortune is plumed with time's feathers, and how
she can minister strange causes to breed strange effects.
It happened not long after this that there was a meeting
of all the farmers' daughters in Sicilia, whither Fawnia
was also bidden as the mistress of the feast, who, having
attired herself in her best garments, went among the rest
of her companions to the merry meeting, there spending
the day in such homely pastimes as shepherds use. As
the evening grew on and their sports ceased, each
taking their leave at other, Fawnia, desiring one of her
companions to bear her company, went home by the flock
to see if they were well folded, and, as they returned, it
fortuned that Dorastus, who all that day had been hawking,
and killed store of game, encountered by the way these
two maids, and, casting his eye suddenly on Fawnia, he
was half afraid, fearing that with Actaeon he had seen
Diana ; for he thought such exquisite perfection could not
be found in any mortal creature. As thus he stood in a
maze, one of his pages told him that the maid with the
garland on her head was Fawnia, the fair shepherd whose
beauty was so much talked of in the court. Dorastus,
desirous to see if nature had adorned her mind with any
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 43
inward qualities, as she had decked her body with outward
shape, began to question with her whose daughter she was,
of what age, and how she had been trained up ? who
answered him with such modest reverence and sharpness
of wit that Dorastus thought her outward beauty was but
a counterfeit to darken her inward qualities, wondering
how so courtly behaviour could be found in so simple a
cottage, and cursing fortune that had shadowed wit and
beauty with such hard fortune. As thus he held her a
long while with chat, beauty seeing him at discovert
thought not to lose the vantage, but struck him so deeply
with an envenomed shaft, as he wholly lost his liberty
and became a slave to love, which before contemned love,
glad now to gaze on a poor shepherd, who before refused
the offer of a rich princess ; for the perfection of Fawnia
had so fired his fancy as he felt his mind greatly changed
and his affections altered, cursing love that had wrought
such a change, and blaming the baseness of his mind that
would make such a choice ; but, thinking that these were
but passionate toys that might be thrust out at pleasure, to
avoid the siren that enchanted him he put spurs to his
horse, and bade this fair shepherd farewell.
Fawnia, who all this while had marked the princely
gesture of Dorastus, seeing his face so well featured, and
44 THE HISTORY OF
each limb so perfectly fi'amed, began greatly to praise his
perfection, commending him so long till she found herself
faulty, and perceived that, if she waded but a little
further, she might slip over her shoes: she, therefore,
seeking to quench that fire which never was put out, went
home and feigning herself not well at ease got her to bed ;
where casting a thousand thoughts in her head, she could
take no rest : for, if she waked, she began to call to mind
his beauty, and, thinking to beguile such thoughts with
sleep, she then dreamed of his perfection. Pestered thus
with these unacquainted passions, she passed the night as
she could in short slumbers.
Dorastus, who all this while rode with a flea in his ear,
could not by,any means forget the sweet favour of Fawnia,
but rested so bewitched with her wit and beauty, as he
could take no rest. He felt fancy to give the assault and
his wounded mind ready to yield as vanquished: yet he
began with divers considerations to suppress this frantic
affection, calling to mind that Fawnia was a shepherd one
not worthy to be looked at of a prince, much less to be
loved of such a potentate ; thinking what a discredit it
were to himself, and what a grief it would be to his father,
blaming fortune and accusing his own folly that should be
so fond as but once to cast a glance at such a country slut.
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 45
As thus he was raging against himself, Love, fearing if she
dallied long to lose her champion, stept more nigh and
gave him such a fresh wound as it pierced him at the
heart, that he was fain to yield, maugre his face, and to
forsake the company and get him to his chamber, where
being solemnly set he burst into these passionate terms :
' Ah, Dorastus, art thou alone . No, not alone, while
thou art tired with these unacquainted passions. Yield
to fancy thou canst not by thy father's counsel, but in
a frenzy thou art by just destinies. Thy father were
content if thou couldst love, and thou, therefore, discontent
because thou dost love. O, divine love ! feared of men
because honoured of the Gods, not to be suppressed by
wisdom, because not to be comprehended by reason ;
without law, and, therefore, above all law. How now,
Dorastus ! why dost thou blaze that with praises, which
thou hast cause to blaspheme with curses . yet why
should they curse love that are in love . Blush, Dorastus,
at thy fortune, thy choice, thy love : thy thoughts cannot
be uttered without shame, nor thy affections without
discredit. Ah, Fawnia, sweet Fawnia, thy beauty,
Fawnia! Shamest not thou, Dorastus, to name one
unfit for thy birth, thy dignities, thy kingdoms . Die,
Dorastus ; Dorastus, die. Better hadst thou perish with
4 8 THE HISTORY OF
then, Fawnia, those thoughts which thou mayest shame
to express. But ah, Fawnia, love is a lord who will
command by power, and constrain by force. Dorastus,
ah, Dorastus is the man I love ! the worse is thy hap, and
the less cause hast thou to hope. Will eagles catch at
flies ? will cedars stoop to brambles, or mighty princes
look at such homely trulls. No, no; think this:
Dorastus' disdain is greater than thy desire ; he is a prince
respecting his honour, thou a beggar's brat forgetting thy
calling. Cease then not only to say, but to think to love
Dorastus, and dissemble thy love, Fawnia ; for better it
were to die with grief, than to live with shame. Yet, in
despite of love, I will sigh to see if I can sigh out love.'
Fawnia, somewhat appeasing her griefs with these pithy
persuasions, began, after her wonted manner, to walk about
her sheep, and to keep them from straying into the corn,
suppressing her affection with the due consideration of her
base estate, and with the impossibilities of her love;
thinking it were frenzy, not fancy, to covet that which the
very destinies did deny her to obtain.
But Dorastus was more impatient in his passions, for
love so fiercely assailed him, that neither company nor
music could mitigate his martyrdom, but did rather far the
more increase his malady: shame would not let him
50 THE HISTORY OF
he wondered how a country maid could afford such
courtly behaviour. Dorastus, repaying her curtesy with a
smiling countenance, began to parley with her on this
manner :
' Fair maid,' quoth he, ' either your want is great, or a
shepherd's life very sweet, that your delight is in such
country labours. I cannot conceive what pleasure you
should take, unless you mean to imitate the nymphs, being
yourself so like a nymph. To put me out of this doubt,
shew me what is to be commended in a shepherd's life,
and what pleasures you have to countervail these drudging
labours.'
Fawnia, with blushing face, made him this ready answer :
' Sir, what richer state than content, or what sweeter life
than quiet ? we shepherds are not born to honour, nor
beholding unto beauty the less care we have to fear
fame or fortune. We count our attire brave enough if
warm enough, and our food dainty if to suffice nature:
our greatest enemy is the wolf our only care in safe
keeping our flock : instead of courtly ditties we spend the
days with country songs:our amorous conceits are
homely thoughts : delighting as much to talk of Pan and
his country pranks as ladies to tell of Venus and her
wanton toy6. Our toil is in shifting the folds and
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 5;3
presence of his men broke off their parle, so that he went
with them to the palace and left Fawnia sitting still on
the hill side, who, seeing that the night drew on, shifted
her folds, and busied herself about other work to drive
away such fond fancies as began to trouble her brain.
But all this could not prevail ; for the beauty of Dorastus
had made such a deep impression in her heart, as it could
not be worn out without cracking, so that she was forced
to blame her own folly in this wise :
Ah, Fawnia, why dost thou gaze against the sun, or
catch at the wind ? stars are to be looked at with the eye,
not reached at with the hand : thoughts are to be measured
by fortunes, not by desires ; falls come not by sitting low,
but by climbing too high. What then, shall all fear to
fall because some hap to fall ? No, luck cometh by lot,
and fortune windeth those threads which the destinies
spin. Thou art favoured, Fawnia, of a prince, and yet
thou art so fond to reject desired favours: thou hast
denial at thy tongue's end, and desire at thy heart's
bottom ; a woman's fault to spurn at that with her foot,
which she greedily catcheth at with her hand. Thou
lovest Dorastus, Fawnia, and yet seemest to lour. Take
heed:if he retire thou wilt repent; for unless he love,
thou canst but die. Die then, Fawnia, for Dorastus doth
54 THE HISTORY OF
but jest: the lion never preyeth on the mouse, nor falcons
stoop not to dead stales. Sit down then in sorrow, cease
to love and content thyself that Dorastus will vouchsafe
to flatter Fawnia, though not to fancy Fawnia. Heigh
ho! ah fool, it were seemlier for thee to whistle, as a
shepherd, than to sigh as a lover.' And with that she
ceased from these perplexed passions, folding her sheep
and hieing home to her poor cottage.
But such was the incessant sorrow of Dorastus to think
on the wit and beauty of Fawnia, and to see how fond he
was being a prince, and how froward she was being a
beggar, that he began to lose his wonted appetite, to look
pale and wan ; instead of mirth, to feed on melancholy, for
courtly dances to use cold dulnps: in so much that not
only his own men, but his father and all the court began
to marvel at his sudden change, thinking that some
lingering sickness had brought him into this state.
Wherefore he caused physicians to come, but Dorastus
neither would let them minister, nor so much as suffer
them to see his urine ; but remained still so oppressed with
these passions, as he feared in himself a farther incon-
venience. His honour wished him to cease from such
folly, but love forced him to follow fancy. Yea, and in
despite of honour, love won the conquest, so that his hot
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 55
desires caused him to find new devices; for he presently
made himself a shepherd's coat, that he ,1,ight go unknown
and with the less suspicion to prattle with Fawnia, and
conveyed it secretly into a thick grove hard joining to the
palace, whither, finding fit time and opportumty, he went
all alone, and, putting off his princely apparel, got on those
shepherd's robes, and, taking a great hook in his hand,
which he had also gotten, he went very anciently to find
out the mistress of his affection. But, as he went by the
way, seeing himself clad in such unseemly rags, he began
to smile at his own folly and to reprove his fondness in
these terms.
' Well,' said Dorastus, ' thou keepest a right decorum--
base desires and homely attires ; thy thoughts are fit for
none but a shepherd, and thy apparel such as only becomes
a shepherd. A strange change from a prince to a peasant !
what, is it thy wretched fortune or thy wilful folly ? Is
it thy cursed destinies, or thy crooked desires, that
appointeth thee this penance ? Ah, Dorastus, thou canst
but love ; and, unless thou love, thou art like to perish
for love. Yet, fond fool, choose flowers, not weeds ;
diamonds, not pebbles ; ladies which may honour thee, not
shepherds which may disgrace thee. Venus is painted in
silks, not in rags ; and Cupid treadeth on disdain when
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA
be a prince and to become a shepherd, and see I have
made the change, and, therefore, not to miss of my choice.'
Truth,' quoth Fawnla, but all that wear cowls are not
monks : painted eagles are pictures, not eagles. Zeuxis'
grapes were like grapes, yet shadows: rich clothing make
not princes, nor homely attire beggars: shepherds are not
called shepherds because they wear hooks and bags, but
that they are born poor and live to keep sheep; so this
attire hath not made I)orastus a shepherd, but to seem like
a shepherd.'
' Well, Fawnia,' answered Dorastus, ' were I a shepherd,
I could not but like thee, and, being a prince, I am forced
to love thee. Take heed, Fawnia: be not proud of
beauty's painting, for it is a flower that fadeth in the
blossom. Those, which disdain in youth, are despised in
age. Beauty's shadows are tricked up with time's colours,
which, being set to dry in the sun, are stained with the sun,
scarce pleasing the sight ere they begin not to be worth
the sight; not much unlike the herb Ephemeron, which
flourisheth in the morning and is withered before the sun
setting. If my desire were against law, thou mightest
justly deny me by reason ; but I love thee, Fawnia, not
to misuse thee as a concubine, but to use thee as my wife
I can promise no more, and mean to perform no less.'
8 THE HISTORY OF
Fawnia, hearing this solemn protestation of I)orastus,
could no longer withstand the assault, but yielded up the
fort in these friendly terms :
' Ah, Dorastus, I shame to express that thou forcest
me with thy sugared speech to confess: my base birth
causeth the one, and thy high dignities the other. Beggars'
thoughts ought not to reach so far as kings, and yet my
desires reach as high as princes. I dare not say, Dorastus,
I love thee, because I am a shepherd ; but the Gods know
I have honoured I)orastus (pardon if I say amiss), yea,
and loved Dorastus with such dutiful affection as Fawnia
can perform, or Dorastus desire. I yield, not overcome
with prayers but with love, resting Dorastus' handmaid,
ready to obey his will, if" no prejudice at all to his honour,
nor to my credit.'
Dorastus, hearing this friendly conclusion of Fawnia,
embraced her in his arms, swearing that neither distance,
time, nor adverse fortune, should diminish his affection;
but that, in despite of the destinies, he would remain loyal
unto death. Having thus plighted their troth each to
other, seeing they could not have the full fruition of their
love in Sicilia, for that Egistus' consent would never be
granted to so mean a match, Dorastus determined, as
soon as time and opportunity would give them leave, to
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 59
provide a great mass of money and many rich and costly
jewels for the easier carriage, and then to tiansport them-
selves and their treasure into Italy, where they should lead
a contented life, until such time as either he could be
reconciled to his father, or else by succession come to the
kingdom. This device was greatly praised of Fawnia,
for she feared if the king his father should but hear of the
contract, that his fury would be such as no less than death
would stand for payment. She, therefore, told him that
delay bred danger ; that many mishaps did fall out between
the cup and the lip ; and that, to avoid danger, it were best
with as much speed as might be to pass out of Sicilia,
lest fortune might prevent their pretence with some new
despite. Dorastus, whom love pricked forward with
desire, promised to dispatch his affairs with as great haste
as either time oropportunity would give him leave, and so,
resting upon this point, after many embracings and sweet
kisses, they departed.
Dorastus, having taken his leave of his best beloved
Fawnia, went to the grove where he had his rich apparel,
and there, uncasing himself as secretly as might be, hiding
up his shepherd's attire till occasion should serve again to
use it, he went to the palace, shewing by his merry coun-
tenance that either the state of his body was amended, or
60 THE HISTORY OF
the case of his mind greatly redressed. Fawnia, poor
soul, was no less joyful, that, being a shepherd, fortune
had favoured her so as to reward her with the love of a
prince, hoping in time to be advanced from the daughter
of a poor farmer to be the wife of a rich king ; so that
she thought every hour a year, till by their departure they
might prevent danger, not ceasing still to go every day to
her sheep, not so much for the care of her flock, as for
the desire she had to see her love and lord, Dorastus, who
oftentimes, when opportunity would serve, repaired thither
to feed his fancy with the sweet content of Fawnia's
presence. And although he never went to visit her but in
his shepherd's rags, yet his oft repair made him not only
suspected, but known to divers of their neighbours ; who,
for the good will they bare to old Porrus, told him secretly
of the matter, wishing him to keep his daughter at home, lest
she went so oft to the field that she brought him home a
young son, for they feared that Fawnia, being so beautiful,
the young prince would allure her to folly. Porrus was
stricken into a dump at these news, so that, thanking his
neighbours for their good will, he hied him home to his
wife, and calling her aside, wringing his hands and shed-
ding forth tears, he brake the matter to her in these terms :
' I am afraid, wife, that my daughter Fawnia hath made
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 6
her self so fine, that she will buy repentance too dear. I
hear news, which, if they be true, some will wish they had
not proved true. It is told me by my neighbours that
Dorastus, the king's son, begins to look at our daughter
Fawnia ; which, if it be so, I will not give her a halfpenny
for her honesty at the year's end. I tell thee, wife, now-
adays beauty is a great stale to trap young men, and fair
words and sweet promises are two great enemies to a
maiden's honesty ; and thou knowest, where poor men
entreat and cannot obtain, there princes may command and
will obtain. Though kings' sons dance in nets, they
may not be seen ; but poor men's faults are spied at a little
hole. Well, it is a hard case where kings' lusts are laws,
and that they should bind poor" men to that which they
themselves wilfully break.'
' Peace, husband,' quoth his wife, ' take heed what you
ay: speak no more than you should, lest you hear what
you would not : great streams are to be stopped by sleight,
not by force, and princes to be persuaded by submission,
not by rigour. Do what you can, but no more than you
may, lest in saving Fawnia's maidenhead you lose your
own head. Take heed, I say : it is ill jesting with edged
tools, and bad sporting with kings. The wolf had his
skin pulled over his ears for but looking into the lion's
62 THE HISTORY OF
den.' ' Tush, wife,' quoth he, ' thou speakest like a fool :
if the king should know that I)orastus had begotten our
daughter with child, as I fear it will fall out little better,
the king's fury would be such as, no doubt, we should
both lose our goods and lives, lecessity, therefore, hath
no law, and I will prevent this mischief with a new device
that is come in my head, which shall neither offend the
king nor displease Oorastus. I mean to take the chain
and the jewels that I found with Fawnia and carry them to
the king, letting him then to understand how she is none
of my daughter, but that I found her beaten up with the
water, alone in a little boat, wrapped in a rich mantle,
wherein was inclosed this treasure. By this means I hope
the king will take Fawnia into his service, and we, what-
soever chanceth, shall be blameless.' This device pleased
the good wife very well, so that they determined, as soon
as they might know the king at leisure, to make him privy
to this case.
In the meantime, Dorastus was not slack in his affairs,
but applied his matters with such diligence that he provided
all things fit for their journey. Treasure and jewels he
had gotten great store thinking there was no better friend
than money in a strange country : rich attire he had pro-
vided for Fawnia, and, because he could not bring the
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 63
matter to pass without the help and advice of some one, he
made an old servant of his, called Capnio, who had served
him fi'om his childhood, privy to his affairs ; who, seeing
no persuasions could prevail to divert him from his settled
determination, gave his consent, and dealt so secretly in the
cause that within short space he had gotten a ship ready
for their passage. The mariners, seeing a fit gale of wind
for their purpose, wished Capnio to make no delays, lest, if
they pretermitted this good weather, they might stay long
ere they had such a fair wind. Capnio, fearing that his
negligence should hinder the journey, in the night time
conveyed the trunks full of treasure into the ship, and by
secret means let Fawnia understand that the next morning
they meant to depart. She, upon this news, slept very little
that night, but got up very early, and went to her sheep,
looking every minute when she should see Dorastus, who
tarried not long for fear delay might breed danger, but
came as fast as he could gallop, and without any great
circumstance took Fawnia up behind him, and rode to the
haven where the ship lay, which was not three quarters of a
mile distant from that place. He no sooner came there, but
the mariners were ready with their cock-boat to set them
aboard, where, being couched together in a cabin, they
passed away the time in recounting their old loes, till their
6 4 THE HISTORY OF
man Capnio should cone. Porrus, who had heard that
this morning the king would go abroad to take the air,
called in haste to his wife to bring him his holiday hose
and his best jacket, that he might go, like an honest
substantial man, to tell his tale. His wife, a good cleanly
wench, brought him all things fit, and sponged him up very
handsomely, giving him the chains and jewels in a little
box, which Porrus, for the more safety, put in his bosom.
Having thus all his trinkets in a readiness, taking his staff
in his hand he bade his wife kiss him for good luck, and
so he went towards the palace. But, as he was going,
fortune, who meant to sbew him a little false play, pre-
vented his purpose in this wise.
He met by chance in his way Capnio, who, trudging as
fast as he could with a little coffer under his arm to the
ship, and spying Porrus, whom he knew to be Fawnia's
father, going towards the palace, being a wily fellow,
began to doubt the worst, and, therefore crossed him by the
way, and asked him whither he was going so early this
morning ? Porrus, who knew by his face that he was one
of the court, meaning simply, told him that the king's son
I)orastus dealt hardly with him, for he had but one
daughter who was a little beautiful, and that the neigh-
bours told him the young prince had allured her to folly:
66 THE HISTORY OF
Capnio, seeing that by fair means he could not get him
aboard, commanded the mariners that by violence they
should carry him into the ship ; who, like sturdy knaves,
hoisted the poor shepherd on their backs, and bearing him
to the boat launched from the land.
Porrus, seeing himself so cunningly betrayed, durst not
cry out, for he saw it would not prevail, but began to
entreat Capnlo and the mariners to be good to him, and to
pity his estate: he was but a poor man that lived by his
labour. They, laughing to see the shepherd so afraid,
made as much haste as they could, and set him aboard.
Porrus was no sooner in the ship but he saw Dorastus
walking with Fawnia; yet he scarce knew her, for she
had attired herself in rich apparel, which so increased her
beauty that she resembled rather an angel than a mortal
creature.
Dorastus and Fawnia were hali astonished to see the
old shepherd, marvelling greatly what wind had brought
him thither, till Capnio told him all the whole discourse ;
how Porrus was going to make his complaint to the king,
if by policy he had not prevented him, and therefore now,
sith he was board, for the avoiding of further danger it
were best to carry him into Italy.
Dorastus praised greatly his man's device, and allowed
68 THE HISTORY OF
himself to go see the sport ; where, passing away the day,
returning at night from hunting, he asked for his son, but
he could not be heard of, which drave the king into a
great choler: whereupon most of his noblemen and other
courtiers posted abroad to seek him, but they could not
hear of him through all Sicilia, only they missed Capnio
his man, which again made the king suspect that he was
not gone far.
Two or three days being past and no news heard ot
I)orastus, Egistus began to fear that he was devoured
with some wild beasts, and upon that made out a great
troop of men to go seek him ; who coasted through all
the country, and searched in every dangerous and secret
place, until at last they met with a fisherman that was
mending his nets, when Dorastus and Fawnia took shipping;
who, being examined if he either knew or heard where the
king's son was, without any secrecy at all revealed the
whole matter, how he was sailed two days past, and had
in his company his man Capnio, Porrus and his fair
daughter Fawnia. This heavy news was presently
carried to the king, who, half dead for sorrow, commanded
Porrus' wife to be sent for. She, being come to the
palace, after due examination, confessed that her neigh-
bours had oft told her that the king's son was too fanfiliar
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 6 9
with Fawnia, her daughter; whereupon, her husband,
fearing the worst, about two days past, hearing the king
should go an hunting, rose early in the morning and
went to make his complaint ; but since she neither heard
of him, nor saw him. Egistus, perceiving the woman's
unfeigned simplicity, let her depart without incurring further
displeasure, conceiving such secret grief for his son's reck-
less folly, that he had so forgotten his honour and
parentage by so base a choice to dishonour his father and
discredit himself, that with very care and thought he fell
into a quartan fever, which was so unfit for his aged
years and complexion, that he became so weak as the
physicians would grant him no life.
But his son Dorastus little regarded either lather, coun-
try, or kingdom in respect of his lady Fawnia; for fortune,
smiling on this young novice, lent him so lucky a gale of
wind for the space of a day and a night, that the mariners
lay and slept upon the hatches ; but, on the next morning,
about the break of day the air began to overcast, the winds
to rise, the seas to swell, yea, presently there arose such a
fearful tempest, as the ship was in danger to be swallowed
up with every sea, the mainmast with the violence of the
wind was thrown overboard, the sails were torn, the
tacklings went in sunder, the storm raging still so furiously
7 2 THE HISTORY OF
Bohemia. ' Sir,' quoth Dorastus, 'know that my name
Meleagrus is, a knight born and brought up in Trapolonia,
and this gentlewoman, whom I mean to take to my wife,
is an Italian, born in Padua, from whence I have now
brought her. The cause I have so small a train with me
is for that, her fi'iends unwilling to consent, I intended
secretly to convey her into Trapolonia ; whither, as I
was sailing, by distress of weather I was driven into these
coasts : thus, have you heard my name, my country, and
the cause of my voyage.' Pandosto, starting fi'om his
seat as one in choler, made this rough reply:
' Meleagrus, I fear this smooth tale hath but small truth,
and that thou coverest a foul skin with fair paintings.
No doubt, this lady by her grace and beauty is of her
degree more meet for a mighty prince than for a simple
knight, and thou, like a perjured traitor, hath bereft her
of her parents, to their present grief and her ensuing
sorrow. Till, therefore, I hear more of her parentage
and of thy calling I will stay you both here in ]3ohemia.'
Dorastus, in whom rested nothing but kingly valom;
was not able to suffer the reproaches of landosto, but
that he made him this answer:
' It is not meet for a king, without due proof, to appeach
any man of ill behaviour, nor, upon suspicion, to infer
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 73
belief: strangers ought to be entertained with courtesy,
not to be entreated with cruelty, lest, being forced by
want to put up injuries, the gods revenge their cause
with rigour.'
Pandosto, hearing Dorastus utter these words, com-
manded that he should straight be committed to prison,
until such time as they heard further of his pleasure; but,
as for Fawnia, he charged that she should be entertained
in the court with such courtesy as belonged to a stranger
and her calling. The rest of the shipmen he put into the
dungeon.
Having, thus, hardly handled th e supposed Trapolonians,
Pandosto, contrary to his aged years, began to be some-
what tickled with the beauty of Fawnia, in so much that
he could take no rest, but cast in his old head a thousand
new devices : at last, he fell into these thoughts :
' How art thou pestered, Pandosto, with fi'esh affections,
and unfit fancies, wishing to possess with an unwilling
mind and a hot desire, troubled with a cold disdain ! shall
thy mind yield in age to that thou hast resisted in youth ?
Peace, Pandosto : blab not out that which thou mayest
be ashamed to reveal to thyself. Ah, Fawnia is beauti-
ful, and it is not for thine honour, fond fool, to name her
that is thy captive, and another man's concubine. Alas,
74 THE HISTORY OF
I reach at that with my hand which nay heart would fain
refuse; playing like the bird Ibis in Egypt, which hateth
serpents, yet feedeth on their eggs. Tush, hot desires
turn oftentimes to cold disdain: love is brittle, where
appetite, not reason, bears the sway: king's thoughts
ought not to climb so high as the heavens, but to look no
lower than honour : better it is to peck at the stars with
the young eagles, than to prey on dead carcasses with the
vulture : tis more honourable for Pandosto to die by con-
cealing love, than to enjoy such unfit love. Doth
Pandosto then love ? Yea : whom ? A maid unknown,
yea, and perhaps immodest, straggled out of her own
country: beautiful, but not therefore chaste ; comely in
body, but perhaps crooked in mind. Cease then,
Pandosto, to look at Fawnia, much less to love her: be
not overtaken with a woman's beauty, whose eyes are
framed by art to enamour, whose heart is framed by
nature to enchant, whose false tears know their true
times, and whose sweet words pierce deeper than sharp
swords.'
Here Pandosto ceased from his talk, but not from his
love : for, although he sought by reason and wisdom to
suppress this frantic affection, yet he could take no rest,
the beauty of Fawnia had made such a deep impression in
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 75
his heart. But, on a day, walking abroad into a park
which was hard adjoining to his house, he sent by one of
his servants for Fawnia, unto whom he uttered these
words :
' Fawnia, I commend thy beauty and wit, and now pity
thy distress and want; but, if thou wilt forsake Sir
Meleagrus, whose poverty, though a knight, is not able
to maintain an estate answerable to thy beauty, and yield
thy consent to Pandosto, I will both increase thee with
dignities and riches.' 'No, sir,' answered Fawnia;
'Meleagrus is a knight that hath won me by love, and
none but he shall wear me : his sinister mischance shall not
diminish my affection, but rather increase my good will :
think not, though your grace hath imprisoned him without
cause, that fear shall make me yield my consent: I had
rather be Meleagrus' wife and a beggar than live in
plenty and be Pandosto's concubine.' Pandosto, hearing
the assured answer of Fawnia, would, notwithstanding,
prosecute his suit to the uttermost, seeking with fair words
and great promises to scale the fort of her chastity, swear-
ing that if she would grant to his desire Meleagrus should
not only be set at liberty, but honoured in his court
amongst his nobles. But these alluring baits could not
entice her mind from the love of her new betrothed mate
76 THE HISTORY OF
Meleagrus; which Pandosto seeing, he left her alone
for that time to consider more of the demand. Fawnia,
being alone by herself, began to enter into these solitary
meditations :
'Ah, unfortunate Fawnia! thou seest to desire above
fortune is to strive against the gods and fortune.
gazeth at the sun weakeneth his sight : they, which stare at
the sky, fall oft into deep pits: haddest thou rested con-
tent to have been a shepherd, thou needcst not to have
feared mischance: better had it been for thee by sitting
low to have had quiet, than by climbing high to have
tallen into misery. But alas, I fear not mine own
danger, but Dorastus' displeasure. Ah, sweet Dorastus,
thou art a prince, but now a prisoner, by too much love
procuring thine own loss: haddest thou not loved Fawnia
thou hadst been fortunate: shall I then be false to him
that hath forsaken kingdoms for my cause ? no: would
my death might deliver him, so mine honour might be
preserved ! ' With that, fetching a deep sigh, she ceased
from her complaints, and went again to the palace,
enjoying a liberty without content, and proffered pleasure
with small joy. But poor Dorastus lay all this while
in close prison, being pinched with a hard restraint, and
pained with the burden of cold and heavy irons, sorrowing
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 77
sometimes that his fond affection had procured him this
mishap, that by the disobedience of his parents he had
wrought his own despite: another while cursing the
gods and fortune that they should cross him with such
sinister chance, uttering at last his passions in these words :
'Ah, unfortunate wretch! born to mishap, now thy
folly hath his desert: art thou not worthy for thy base
mind to have bad fortune ? could the destinies favour thee,
which hast forgot thine honour and dignities ? will not the
gods plague him in despite, that paineth his father with
disobedience ? Oh, gods ! if any favour or justice be
left, plague me, but favour poor Favnia, and shroud her
from the tyrannies of wretched Pandosto ; but let my
death free her from mishap, and then welcome death'
Dorastus, pained with these heavy passions, sorroved and
sighed, but in vain, for which he used the more patience.
But again to Pandosto, vo, broiling at the heat of un-
lawful lust, could take no rest, but still felt his mind
disquieted with his new love, so that his nobles and
subjects marvelled greatly at this sudden alteration, not
being able to conjecture the cause of this his continued
care. Pandosto, thinking every hour a year till he had
talked once again with Favia, sent for her secretly into
his chamber, whither though Fawnia unvllingly coming
7 8 THE HISTORY OF
Pandosto entertained her very courteously, using these
familiar speeches, which Fawnia answered as shortly in
this wise.
Pandosto.
' Fawnia, are you become less wilful and more wise to
prefer the love of a king before the liking of a poor knight ?
I think, ere this, you think it is better to be favoured of a
king than of a subject.'
f avnia.
' Pandosto, the body is subject to victories, but the
mind not to be subdued by conquest: honesty is to be
preferred before honour; and a dram of faith weigheth
down a ton of gold. I have promised to Meleagrus to
love, and will perform no less.'
Pandosto.
' Fawnla, I know thou art not so unwise in thy choice
as to refuse the offer of a king, nor so ungrateful as to
despise a good turn. Thou art now in that place where
I may command, and yet thou seest I entreat : my power
is such as I ,nay compel by force, and yet I sue by
prayers. Yield, Fawnia, thy love to him which burneth
in thy love: Meleagrus shall be set free, thy countrymen
discharged, and thou both loved and honoured.'
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 79
Fa,wnia.
I see, Pandosto, where lust ruleth it is a miserable
thing to be a virgin; but know this, that I will always
prefer fame before life, and rather choose death than
dishonour.'
Pandosto, seeing that there was in Fawnia a determinate
courage to love Meleagrus, and a resolution without fear
to hate him, flung away from her in a rage, swearing, if in
short time she would not be won with reason, he would
forget all courtesy, and compel her to grant by rigour:
but these threatening words no whlt dismayed Fawnia,
but that she still both despited and despised Pandosto.
While thus these two lovers strove, the one to win love,
the other to live in hate, Egistus heard certain news by
merchants of Bohemia, that his son Dorastus was im-
prisoned by Pandosto, which made him fear greatly that
his son should be but hardly entreated: yet, considering
that Bellaria and he was cleared by the Oracle of Apollo
from that crime wherewith Pandosto had unjustly charged
them, he thought best to send with all speed to Pandosto,
that he should set free his son Dorastus, and put to death
Fawnia and her father Porrus. Finding this by the
advice of counsel the speediest remedy to release his son,
80 THE HISTORY OF
he caused presently two of his ships to be rigged, and
thoroughly furnished with provision of men and victuals,
and sent divers of his nobles ambassadors into Bohemia ;
who, willing to obey their king and receive their young
prince, made no delays for fear of danger, but with as
much speed as might be sailed towards Bohemia. The
wind and seas favoured them greatly, which made
them hope of some good hap, for within three days they
were landed ; which Pandosto no sooner heard of their
arrival, but he in person went to meet them, entreating
them with such sumptuous and familiar courtesy, that they
might well perceive how sorry he was for the former injuries
he had offered to their king, and how willing, if it might be,
to make amends.
As Pandosto made report to them, how one Meleagrus,
a knight of Trapolonia, was lately arrived with a lady,
called Fawnia, in his land, coming very suspiciously,
accompanied only with one servant and an old shepherd,
the ambassadors perceived by the half, what the whole tale
meant, and began to conjecture that it was Dorastu, who,
for fear to be known, had changed his name; but, dis-
sembling the matter, they shortly arrived at the court,
where, after they had been very solemnly and sumptuously
feasted, the noblemen of Sicilia being gathered together,
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 8
they made report of their embassage, where they certified
Pandosto that Meleagrus was son and heir to the king
Egistus, and that his name was Dorastus ; how, contrary
to the king's mind, he had privily conveyed away that
Fawnia, intending to marry her, being but daughter to
that poor shepherd Porrus : whereupon, the king's request
was that Capnio, Fawnia, and Porrus might be murdered
and put to death, and that his son Dorastus might be sent
home in safety. Pandosto, having attentively and with
great marvel heard their embassage, willing to reconcile
himself to Egistus and to shew him how greatly he
esteemed his favour, although love and fancy forbade him
to hurt Fawnia, yet in despite of love he determined to
execute Egistus' will without mercy ; and, therefore, he
presently sent for Dorastus out of prison, who, marvelling
at this unlooked-for courtesy, found at his coming to the
king's presence that which he least doubted of, his father's
ambassadors ; who no sooner saw him, but with great
reverence they honoured him, and Pandosto embracing
Dorastus set him by him very lovingly in a chair of estate.
Dorastus, ashamed that his folly was bewrayed, sate a long
time as one in a muse, till Pandosto told him the sum of
his father's embassage; which he had no sooner heard,
but he was touched at the quick, for the cruel sentence
G
8z THE HISTORY OF
that was pronounced against Fawnia. But neither could
his sorrow nor his persuasions prevail, for Pandosto
commanded that Fawnia, Porrus, and Capnio should be
brought to his presence ; who were no sooner come, but
Pandosto, having his former love turned to a disdainful
hate, began to rage against Fawnia in these terms:
' Thou disdainful vassal, thou currish kite, assigned by
the destinies to base fortune, and yet with an aspiring
mind gazing after honour, how durst thou presume, being
a beggar, to match with a prince ? by thy alluring looks
to enchant the son of a king to leave his own country to
fulfil thy disordinate lusts ? O despiteful mind ! a proud
heart in a beggar is not unlike to a great fire in a small
cottage, which warmeth not the house, but burneth it:
assure thyself that thou shalt die. And thou, old doting
fool, whose folly hath been such as to suffer thy daughter
to reach above thy fortune, look for no other meed but
the like punishment. But Capnio, thou which hast
betrayed the king, and hast consented to the unlawful lust
of thy lord and master, I know not how justly I may
plague thee: death is too easy a punishment for thy
falsehood, and to live (if not in extreme misery)
were not to shew thee equity. I, therefore, award that
thou shalt have thine eyes put out, and continually
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 83
while thou diest, grind in a mill like a brute beast.'
The fear of death brought a sorrowful silence upon
Fawnia and Capnio, but Porrus seeing no hope of life
burst forth into these speeches :
t-'andosto, and ye noble ambassadors of 8icilia, seeing
without cause I am condemned to die, I am yet glad I have
opportunity to disburden my conscience before my death.
I will tell you as much as I know, and yet no more than
is true. Whereas I am accused that [ have been a
supporter of Fawnla's pride, and she disdained as a vile
beggar, so it is, that I am neither father unto her, nor she
daughter unto me. For so it happened, that I being a
poor shepherd in 8icilia, living by keeping other men's
flocks, one of my sheep straying down to the sea side, as
I went to seek her, I saw a little boat driven upon the shore,
wherein I found a babe of six days old, wrapped in a mantle
of scarlet, having about the neck this chain. I, pitying the
child and desirous of the treasure, carried it home to my
wife, who with great care nursed it up and set it to keep
sheep. Here is the chain and the jewels, and this Fawnia
is the child whom I found in the boat. What she is or
of what parentage I know no, but this 1 am assured, that
she is none of mine.'
t-'andosto would scarce suffer him to tell out his tale
8 4 THE HISTORY OF
but that he inquired the time of the year, the manner of
the boat, and other circumstances ; which when he found
agreeing to his count, he suddenly leapt fi'om his seat and
kissed Fawnia, wetting her tender cheeks with his tears, and
crying, ' My daughter Fawnia ! ah sweet Fawnia ! I am
thy father, Fawnia.' This sudden passion of the king drave
them all into a maze, especially Fawnia and Dorastus.
But, when the king had breathed himself a while in this
new joy, he rehearsed before the ambassadors the whole
matter, how he had entreated his wife Bellaria for jealousy,
and that this was the child, whom he had sent to float in
the seas.
Fawnia was not more joyful that she had found such a
father, than Dorastus was glad he should get such a wife.
The ambassadors rejoiced that their young prince had made
such a choice, that those kingdoms, which through enmity
had long time been dissevered, should now through perpetual
amity be united and reconciled. The citizens and subjects
of Bohemia, hearing that the king had found again his
daughter, which was supposed dead, joyful that there was
an heir apparent to his kingdom, made bonfires and shows
throughout the city. The courtiers and knights appointed
jousts and tourneys to signify their willing minds in
gratifying the king's hap.
DORASTUS AND FAWNIA 8 5
Eighteen days being past in these princely sports, Pan-
dosto, willing to recompense old Porrus, of a shepherd made
him a knight ; which done, providing a sufficient navy to
receive him and his retinue, accompanied with Dorastus,
Fawnia, and the Sicilian ambassadors, he sailed towards
Sicilia, where he was most princely entertained by Egistus ;
who, hearing this most comical event, rejoiced greatly at his
son's good hap, and without delay (to the perpetual joy of
the two young lovers) celebrated the marriage : which was
no sooner ended, but Pandosto, calling to mind how first he
betrayed his friend Egistus, how his jealousy was the cause
of ]3ellaria's death, that contrary to the law of nature he had
lusted after his own daughter, moved with these desperate
thoughts, he fell into a melancholy fit, and, to close up the
comedy with a tragical stratagem, he slew himself; whose
death being many days bewailed of Fawnia, Dorastus, and
his dear friend Egistus, Dorastus, taking his leave of his
father, went with his wife and the dead corpse into
Bohemia, where, after they were sumptuously entombed,
Dorastus ended his days in contented quiet.
FINIS.
GLOSSARY
IO 3
SACK, to plunder, z8
SACKLESS, harnfless, 3 I
SAFETY ; ' for the more s.,'
for the greater safety, 64
SALVES, ointments, 3 I
SCAPES, escapes, Zo
SCOT-FREE, without pay-
ment, 16
SCYRUM, river in south of
Arcadia (Pauly), 46
S.ASON ; ' in the mean s.,'
meantime, z 5
SET, seated, 45
SHADOW, to conceal, xxviii,
I!
SHADOWED, shaded, sad-
dened, 43
SHEPHERD, shepherdess, 42 ,
47, 54
S HIFT ; ' S. the folds,' change
the sheep-pens, 47, 5%
SHIPPING t took s.,' took
ship, 68
SHOES ; ' slip over her s.;
sink deep into the mire,
44
SHOOK; 's. him up,' re-
buked him, 4 I
SHROUD, to cover, protect,
XXV, XXVlll, 22
SIBYI.LA, a woman gifted
with special powers of
prophecy and divination,
46
SFT, tO examine, 5 I
SILL', innocent, 6, 3% 34
SIMPLICITY, innocence, 34,
69
SIMrLY ; ' meaning s.,' in
all innocence, 64
SINISTER, inauspicious, 7 5,
77
SITH, since, I I, I2, etc.
SLACK, SLOW, 3 I
SLEIGHT, skill, 6I
SLENDER, slight, xxviii, 38
SLV, heavy, idle person, 44
SMOOTH ; ' S. tale,' plausible
story, 65, 7z
So ; 's. parents' wills are
laws, s. they pass not all
laws,' parents' wishes
are laws, provided they
do not go beyond all
laws, 4o
SONG ; in one s.,' in one
tone, 25
Sot ; ' to give his wife a s.
of the same sauce,' to
treat his wife in the same
way, 9
io8 APPENDIX
1DAN OP PEo
Cete felicit6 ne t'enteral jamais mort enuie. Et ie
m'estonne que vostre ceur genereux s'attache a des objetz
si bus, & si vils.
DOKASTE.
Ie m'estonne bien dauantage de ton auueug]ement, &
de ton ignorence, n'ayant point d'yeux pour admirer ce
chef deuure de la nature, n'y d'esprit pore" en cognoitre
|es perfections.
PANOPPE.
Ie veux quelle soit la plus parfaite du monde; quelle
gloire ; & qu'el aduantage peut tirer vostre amour de ses
merites, dans la condition ou vous estez elleu6, & elle
rabaiss6e.
DORASTE.
A ce quc ic roy tu metz lcs dons du Cic], & lcs
faueurs de la Nature au rang des choses que tu mesprises
le plus. Il y a quelque rapport d'elle a moy car si ie suis
Roy de Epirotes, elle est Reyne des vertus, & la moindre
de ses graces vaut plus que tous les trhesors que ie possede.
PANOPPE.
La vertu est tousjours a estimer ; mais ne pouuez vous
pus luy dresser des autels, & luy rendre des sacrifices en
un sujet plus digne. Acquitez vous de ces debuoirs enuers
une Princesse qui possede ]es mesmes qualitez.
1 tentera. In this text a comma is often introduced in similar
fashion.
APPENDIX
FAVVYE.
Ie vous permetz le change, & si ie vous d'effens d'estre
inconstant.
DORASTE.
Ie n'auray point beaucoup d'honneta" a vous obeir en
cela n'y ayant pas beaucoup de peine ; car la Fidelit? &
,non inclination ne different que de nora. A demain les
effectz de mes promesses.
FAVVYE.
.4terceuant le Paysan qu'elle tenoit iour son Pere,
s'estonne " continue a parler a mesure qu'il
s'aproche d'elle.
I'e crains que mon Pere n'aye escout les discours de
nostre entretien, il me faut changer d'action & de visage.
PAYSAN.
Fauuye ie lofie ta vertu. Cest de la sorte qu'iI faut
resister aces courtisans, toutesfois ils sont si rusez qu'il
vaut mieux les fuir, que les combattre. Lentretien de ce
ieune Prince t'apportera plus de honte que de gloric, puis
qu'il n'en veut qu'a ton honneur.
FAVVYE.
Ie ne saurols me deffendre de ses visites, mais ie suis
fort aize que vous en soyez temoing, pour faire taire la
medisence.
PAYSAN.
Tu parles bien, mais il faut faire encore mieux, & cet
le moyen de luy imposer silence.
APPENDIX 7
DORASTE.
Et bien ma belle doubterez vous encore de la verit de
ma passion.
FAvV'E.
hies yeux n'en doubtent plus ; mais mon esprit est
tousiours dans sa rues fiance.
DORASTE.
Nay-je pas acomply rues promesses.
FAVVYE.
Ouy mais ie crains qu'en changeant d'habit ; vous ne
changiez d'amour.
DORASTE.
Mon obeissance est attache6 a mon habit, & non pas
mon affection. I1 me faudroit changer d'amc, & de cceur,
auant qu'estre capable d'inconstance.
FAvvvE.
Quelle assurance m'en voulez vous donner.
DORASTE.
Celle qui vous plairra.
FAVVYE.
Mon honneur cherche labry du mariage.
DORASTEo
Ie vous en offre le port entre rues bras.
i 18 APPENDIX
FAVVYE.
Cc servient les Ecueils de ma Pudicit & la mort
nl'est plus agreable.
I)ORASTE.
Croyez vous que ie voulusse rauir par tiranie ce que ie
pros conquerrir par amour, gardez ma roy pour assurance
FAVVYE.
La Foy d'un Amant est sujete a caution.
I)ORASTE.
Mais si ie vous ayme que pouuez vous craindre.
FAVVYE.
La violence de ce mesme amour.
DoRASTE.
Le Respect & l'Amour ne se faucent iamais compagnie.
FAvvy.
Ie le veux croire, mais non pas l'experimenter.
]:)OR.AS'I'E.
Si est ce que dans la seruitude ou vous m'auez reduit,
ie n'ay que ma parole a vous donner pour gaige.
FAVVYE.
Comme les paroles se forment de vent, le vent les
emporte. I'ayme mieux les effectz.
zo APPENDIX
sentent bon, les apas de leur odeur me font pasmer de
joye. Mais le trepas en est trop delicieux pour le craindre,
ie veux mourir tout afait.
FAVVYE.
Ne parlez point de mort quand vous mourriez de joye, ie
ne laisserois pas de mourir de tristesse.
DORASTE,
Mourons donc tous deux d'amour. Mais il me semble
que vostre sein soupire de cholere, ou de jalousie, de ce
que ie ne cueil pas des fleurs de son jardin j'en veux faire
un nouueau bouquet.
I1 baise son sein.
II continue tousiours a parler.
Les epines de ses roses mon pique, mais iecroy qu'elles
ont la vertu des armes de Telephe, aprez m'auoir caus6 le
real, eiles m'en donneront le remede. EII rebaize son sein.]
Me voila guery mais ie me plains de ma guerison, I'ayme
mieux ma blessure.
FAVVYE.
Vous ne prenez pas garde que le 8oleil ialoux de noz
felicitez seua chacher dans l'onde.
DORASTE.
I1 s'est echaufd au feu de noz caresses. Ce qui luy fair
hater sa course pour esteindre l'ardeur d6t il est embras6.
Vos cbmandemens me pressent plus que luy. Adieu ie
vous laisse mon cceur, mon ame, & mes pens6es, &
n'enporte rien que mon corps anim6 de vostre amour.
APPENDIX 12 3
DORASTE.
Tu veux done soubz un faux pretexte damiti, troubler
le rep.os de ma vie. Ie roy bien que tune cognois pas le
pouuor de la belle passion que me possede, ton courage,
& ta force me seruiront de nouuelles armes darts ta resist-
ence, pour t'immoler a ma fureur. Mon esprit resolu n'a
que faire de ton conseil, & mon authorit6 absolue, me
fournira le secours que tu me refuses.
PANOPPE,
La partie est mal faite d'un suiet contre son Prince, &
d'ailleurs vostre amour & vostre cholere sont si redoutab|es,
dans vostre puissance souueraine, que ie ne s;aurois vous
resister, & quoy que j'en aye la volont6, j'en perdz le
courage. Commandez moy ce qui vous plaira, ie vous
obeiray, & simon obcissance eat criminelle, j'en effaceray
la tache auec mon sang.
DORAS.
Ne t'est ce pas tousiours de l'aduantage de partager
auec moy & la glorie, & la honte qui pourroient accom-
paigner rues entreprises. Tu doibs attandre ta fortune de
mon Destin puis que cet luy seul qui peut ourdir la trame
des beaux ]ours de ta vie. Dispose donc toutes choses
a l'accomplissement de mon dessain, L'heure du depart
s'aproche.
PANOPPEo
I'y apporteray autant de soing que de diligence.
F&VVYE.
Que jay peu de courage pour auoir rant d'amour. Ie
126 APPENDIX
Panope auec un Page.
PANOPPE.
Cest estre bien malheureux de porter la peyne du crime
d'autruy. Nous ne contribuons que par force au dessain
de nostre Prince. Et toutesfois nous courons le hasard
d'estre punis du mal qu'il a fair. Ma roy si ie n'estois
engag6 si auant ie changerois de condition, ou de maistre.
Lr PAc.
Vous auez raison, mais on doibt tousiours prendre le
temps, comme il vient. I1 faut courre des grands hasards
pour faire une grande fortune.
1.e Paysan sort.
PANOPPEo
Ou vas tu arrete.
LE PAYSAN.
1Vessleurs ie vous crie mercy sauuez moy la vie, voila
ma bourse. I'e men alois treuuer le Roy pour me faire
rendre ma lille que le Prince ]_)oraste son lilz a enleue.
8uys nous, & remercie les Dieux du bonheur de nostre
rencontre.
ACTE TROISIESME.
zIgatocles auec un de ses Consdllers.
AGATOCLES.
A. que les Dieux me vendent cher les felicitez de mon
Hymene. Ie me pouuois vanter d'auoir un jeune Hercule
APPENDIX z 7
qui en son enfance auoit des ja ecras les Serpens des
guerres ciuiles. C'etoit la consolation de ma viellesse,
l'esperance de mort peuple, l'appuy de mon Royaume
l'hornement de ma Cour. Et la Terreur, & l'Effroyde
rues ennemis. Mais de ce bien les Dieux ne m'en ont
donn la jouissance que pour m'en faire ressentir la priua-
tion. Perte si sensible, que comme ie n'ay rien plus a
esperer, aussi n'ay-je rien plus a craindre.
CONSEILLER.
Sire vostre Majest se plaint d'un malheur d'ont elle
n'aura que les menaces. L'absance de Monseigneur le
Prince, Monseigneur vostre Fils, nous presage plutost une
suite volontaire, qu'une perte infaillible. Et son depart
precipit6 me fair croire que l'Amour luy tient companie.
AG/TOCLES.
Les eclairs deuancent les foudres. L'absance de mon
Filz est l'auantcouriere de sa mort. Mon ame est trop
afflig6e pour estre capable de consolation.
CONSEILLER.
Sire les grands malheurs sont reseruez pour les grands
espritz, assin que la force de leur courage, soit propor-
tion6e a la pesanteur de leur fardeau. Desorte que vostre
magnanimit6 peut supporter aizement cete infortune, quand
les nouuelles en seroient aussi veritables qu'incertaines.
AG_TOCLES.
Cet manquer de courage de vouloir resister a une douleur
dont la playe est incurable. En prolongeant rues jours
j'accrois le hombre de rues peynes.
APPENDIX I a9
AGATOCLES.
L'Esperance ne vit plus en moy, & l'aprehension
mortelle dont ie suis attaint est un funeste presage de mon
infortune. Puis que Doraste est priu6 de la lumiere du
jour, celuy cy sera le dernier de ma vie.
Doraste, Fauuye, Panoppe, Paysan, " Pilote.
DoRASTE.
Que ne te puis ie oster le sentiment de tes maulx, de
mesme que i'en souffre la douleur, ma chere vie. Ie
n'endure que pour toy, & toutesfois tes peines n'en sont
point d'iminuees.
FAVVYE.
Tom ces nouueaux temoignages de vostre amour, sont
autant de nouuelles playes que vous faites dam mon ame.
Car comme vous ne souffrez que pour moy ie n'endure que
pOl/r vou8.
OKASTEo
Ie ne diray donc plus que ie t'ayme puis qu'aussi bien
rues paroles ne sauroient exprimer la verit de mon amour ;
mais comment pourray ie cacher le resentiment que j'ay de
tes peynnes.
II faut changer de discours. Ce n'et pas tout d'auoir
euitt les ecueils de la mer, on doibt songer maintenant
aux dangers que nous pouuons encourir sur la Terre.
K
APPENDIX
PANOPPE.
Puis que la fortune nous donne ]e choix de ces diuers
dangers, cherchons la Piti6 parmy les hommes, p]utost que
parmy les ondes; que si nos peinnes st inutilles, cete
consolation nous demeurera, d'auoir manqu6 de bonheur,
plutost que de Prudence.
PAYsAN.
I1 faut s'esloigner des dangers aparens comme des
Ecueils, 8c des Syrenes. Pour moy iamerois mieux estre
mang des vers, que des poissons.
PILOTE.
Nostre perte est infalible sur la met; que si elle est
incertaine sur la terre, il n'y a point de conseil a prendre.
DORASTE.
Changeons doric de nom, & de qualit6, & disons
nous habitans de Candie, pour donner moins de iour a la
refit6, de peur que ce perfide Pandoste ne nous dresse
quelque enbuche.
FawYE.
Ie ne scaurois changer de nora, n'y de qualitd en qu'elque
lieu que ie fois. Ie vetux tousiours porter le nora de vostre
ceeur, & la qualit6 de vostre seruante.
DORASTE.
Vous pouuez bien porter le nora de mort Cmur puis que
vous l'etez en effect, mais pour la qualit6 de seruante, vos
perfections nous trahiroient, celle de M'aitresse vous sera
plus conuenable, & a nous plus utille.
x 3 z APPENDIX
PANOPPE.
Ne Changeons donc point d'opinion, le Temps seschape
peu a peu de nous : & Comme les astres versent sans cesse
sur nos testes leurs influences : peut estre qu'en ce moment
les bones se repandent inutillement.
PAYSAN.
L'occasion s'enfuit aussi bien que le Temps, & tous
deux courent si rite, qu'il est bien malaize de les attaindre.
PILOTE.
Prenons tousiours les I)ieux pour protecteurs, puis que
darts le port nous courons danger de naufrage.
DOaSTE.
C'et le seul appuy qui nous reste, en l'estremit6 ou nous
sommez reduitz.
ACTE QUATRIESME.
Le Roy Pandoste, 5' le reost.
PANDOSTE.
I ar apris qu'une ieune dame estrgere estoit arriuee
hier au soir. Le Recit qu'on ma fair de sa beautd me
donne l'enuie de la voir, & j'en meurs d'inpatience, sans
scauoir pourquoy.
Lz Pvos'r.
Vostre Majest6 peut receuoir ce contentement a route
h eure. Sa puissance absolue change tous ses desks en
APPENDIX
Le Roy auec Fauuye seule.
LE Roy.
II faut que ie confesse que ie n'ay jamais rien veu de si
beau que vous. Vos appas sont si d'oux, & vos graces
si charmantes qu'en lage ou ie suis, ie n'en puis parler
qu'en soupirant. Vos yeux ont alum la glace de mon
cceur,& ie ne mestonne pas de cete merueille, puis que
vostre rein est tout de feu, quoy qu'il soit tout de neige.
FawvE.
Comme ie ne suis belle qu'aux yeux de mon Epoux, ie
n'ose le croire que quand luy mesme m'en assure. Et de
me vouloit persuader que mes yeux vous ayent rendu
amoureux, il n'y a pas beaucoup d'aparance. Parce que
ilzont donn tout l'amour qu'ils auoient a celuy qui me
possede: & hors de luy, tous les objetz du monde leur
sont indiferens.
LE RoY.
Ce n'et pas pour vous tenter de vannit6 que ie parle de
vos perfections, j'en publie la grandeur parce que j'en
ressens la force. Et quoy que vos yeux ayent donn6 tout
l'amour qu'ils auoient, leur nature aymable les faict tousiours
aymer, & cete Verit6 m'est si sensible, que ie ne la
puis taire.
Ie n'ay point d'autre perfection que celle de sqauoir
aymer uniquement mon Epoux. Et rues yeux presagent
plutost la pluye, que le beau temps, en l'abzance de leur
Soleil.
APPENDIX
LE RoY.
Ne me sera t'il point permis de vous demander la
guerison du real que vous m'auez fair; Que si vos yeux
me menact de la pluye mon sort n'en sera pas moins
glorieux. I'ayme autant encourir le naufrage dans leau
de leurs l'armes, clue l'embrasement dans le feu de leurs
regards.
FAVVYE.
Si vostre mal est veritable, demandez en le remede a la
Raison; si'l est immaginere vostre immagination vous
guerira.
LE Rox.
Si la Raison me pouuoit guerit ie n'impIorerois pas
vostre piti6; Que faut il que ie face; que voulez vous
que ie deuiene. Rendez moy la libert6 que vous m'auez
ost6e, ou agr6ez ma seruitude.
F AVVYE,
Vostre Majest6 m'accuse d'un crime dont mes pensees
sont innocentes ; Comment pourroisie auoir rauy sa libert6
dans la seruitude ou ie suis reduite.
LE RoY.
Ie veux croire que vos pensees sont innocentes de ce
rauissement pui8 que vous l'auez fair sans y penser, mais
voz beautez en sont coupables ; Et comme vous debuez
repondre d'elles, ie vous demande le remede du mal
quelles me font.
APPENDIX
FAvvYE.
Si vostre Majest ne meurt que des blessures que ie luy
ay faites elle se peut ranter d'estre immortelle.
L RoY.
Les douleurs d'un real incurable sont plus insupportables
que la mort, & [e mien est de cette nature, si vous m'en
refusez la guerison.
FAVVYE.
Vostre Majest presche un Rocher: Car jay le coeur
de roche contre toutes ces attaintes. IVlon honneur &
ma vie ne sont qu'une mesme chose, qui aspire a Pun,
conspire contre l'autre.
L RoY.
Ie rends les armes a vostre chastet, elle merite les
couronnes du triomphe. Et ie suis fort aize d'estre temoing
de sa gloire, aussi bien qu'admirateur. Mais sans mentir
ie ne saurois dire quel des deux emporte 1'aduantage, ou
de vostre esprit, ou de vostre corps: Car le Ciel a
combl Pun de tant de vertus, & la nature, l'autre de
tt de ]3eautez, que j'en demeure egalement rauy, sans
s;auoir a qui donner le prix.
F/vvvl.
Ie ne merite point des loianges pour ma chastet Parce
que cet une vertu qui est propre & affectee a celles de notre
sexce. La seule gloire que ie pretens, cet de pouuoir
semoigner a vostre Majest6 que ie suis sa tres humble
teruante.
I 3 8 APPENDIX
AGATOCLES.
L'employ que ie vous donne, vous doibt fake cognoitre
en qu'elle consideration ie vous tiens. Et si vostre fortune
de pend de ma puissance, rues faueurs surpasseront vostre
ambition.
Le Roy Pandoste avec son Preuost.
PANDOSTE.
O que l'amour est redoubtable; Que son bandeau est
obscur puis qu'il auueugle egalement, & mes sens & ma
raison; Que son flablea est ardant. Puis que mon sang
tout geld des rues veines s'enflame d'une nouuelle vigueur ;
que see traitz sont acerez, puis qu'ils ont blessd mon cceur,
que l'age rendoit aussy dur que la pierre; Et que see
coups sont ineuitables puis que par un seul regard, mon
ame a estd reduite en seruitude. Cete jeune estrangere
est la belle cause de tous ces maulx, & la douce ennemye
de mon repos. Et pour un dernier malheur, sa vertu
veut que ie meure de la blessure que sa t3eaut6 ma faire.
L PREVOST.
Sire vostre puissance absolue est l'unique remede de
vostre mal.
LE Roy.
Comment puis ie faire la loy a mon Vainqueur Le Regne
de ma puissance absolue est expird L'amour est assis sur
le trone de mon Empire.
L PRVOST.
Les Ames Ies plus passionn&s treuuent souuent Ie
remede de leur real dans le desepoir 1 de sa guerison.
x d&espoir.
APPENDIX
145
Qu'on Eslargisse cet estranger, nous saurons ce qui en
est. Ie conjure les Dieux de fauoriser egalement en cela ;
& mes desirs, & vos esperances.
Ls 28XMBASSADEUR$.
Sire nos veux sont acomplis. Cet ]uy mesme. Nous
demandons maintenant justice a vostre MajestY, pour
fake punir cete bergere.
Doraste " le Paysan.
DORASTE.
El]e est compaigne de ma fortune. Sa rye & la mienne
nont qu'un mesme sort.
LE RoY.
Son age la rend excusable, il vaut mieux punir ce vielard
en qualit de Pere, pour aprandre a ses semblable.
d'instruire mieux leurs enfans.
Le Pa3,san agenoux.
Sire ce n'et point ma fille. I1 y a tantost quinze ans que
ie la treuuay dans une petite nassele sur le riuage de la mer,
ou le vent de sa bonne fortune l'auoit faite surgir. Et
voicy la bague qu'elle auoir pendue au col.
L Roy.
Qu'el Prodige de bonheur, cete hague dechire le bandeau
de mon auueuglement, pour me faire recognoitre ma fille ;
Que ie t'embrasse, cher obiet de mes felicitez. Ie n'oze
me dire ton Pere, si tu ne me pardones lecrime qui m'en a
fait perdre la qualit& Mais tu ne me refuseras pas ta
1 avait.
L
APPENDIX 47
mes joyes se terminent dans vos prosperitez. Messieurs
les Ambassadeurs vous ctracteres de ma part, cette
alliance auec le Roy de Cicile, vostre Maistre soubz la roy
de la parole que ie vous donne.
LEs AM BASSADEURS.
N6us executerons fidelement les commandemens de
vostre 1V[ajeste.
Lr Roy.
Alons cependant celebrer darts mon Palais, la feste d'une
joye si publique.
FIN
RICHARD CLAY & SONS LIMITED
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