The Palace of Pleasure Volume Ii Part 3

THE SIXTY-FOURTH NOUELL.

_The notable charitie of a woman of Tours towards her husbande._

Another hystorie of like example I thincke meete to bee annexed: which telleth howe in the Cittie of Tours in Fraunce, there was a fayre and honest wyfe which for her vertues was not onelye beloued, but also feared and esteemed of her husband. So it was that he followinge the fragilitie of those men, which be wearie of delicate fare, fill in loue with a woman of the Countrye that kepte his house there, and many times departed from Tours to visite his countrie woman, where he commonlye taried II. or III.

dayes before his retorne: and when he came home againe to Tours, he ordinarely did take cold, whereof his good wife had much to do to recouer him. And so sone as he was hole, hee failed not to returne to the place, where pleasure made him forget all his former griefe and sicknes. His wife which aboue all thinges loued his life and tendred his health, seinge him commonly broughte into so poore estate, went into the Countrye, where she founde out the yong woman that her husband loued. Vnto whom (not in choler but with smilinge cheere and countenaunce) shee sayd: "How she knew well that oftentimes her husband repaired thither to visite her, and that she was not well content that she vsed him no more carefully, for when he came home from her he toke so great cold as long time after she had much a doe to recouer him." The poore woman as wel for the reuerence of the Dame, as for the trouth of the matter, could not denie the facte, and therefore fallinge downe vppon her knees, asked her forgiuenes.

The maistresse required to see the bedde and chamber, where her husband laie, which she perceiued to be so cold, ill fauoured, and out of order, as she pitied and lamented the case: wherefore incontinently she sent for a good bedde furnished with sheetes, blanquets and Couerlet, accordingly as she knew her husband loued, causing the chamber to be repaired, hanged, and dressed vp, after the best maner: she gaue her also plate and vessell to serue her husband at meales, together with a punchion of wyne, spice, and other confections: and then prayed the woman to sende home her husbande, no more so sicke, but to interteigne and cherishe him after the most delicate and carefull maner she could. The husband taried not long at home, but after his olde custome wente againe into the countrie to visit his woman, and marueiled much to finde her poore lodging so trimlye garnished, but much more he wondred when calling for drincke he sawe her to bringe him a siluer potte, asking her where she had gotten all those goodes. The poore woman sayde vnto him weeping, that it was his wife, which hauing so great pitie vppon his ill intreatie, had furnished her house, and had committed vnto her the charge and regard of his health. Hee seing the greate humilitie and goodnes of his wyfe, and that shee for the vnkindnes he shewed vnto her, had requited him with that curtesie and louing kindnes, well pondering and regarding his owne frailtie, and the honeste demeanor of his wyfe, afterwards rewarded the poore woman with money, and perswaded her from that time foorth to liue an honest life. And then returned home to his wyfe, confessing vnto her the negligence of his dutie, and that excepte she had vsed that kinde of curtesie and goodnes towards him, it had bin impossible for him to forsake and giue ouer his vnG.o.dlye life: and afterwardes vtterly abandoning his behauiour past, they liued together in great rest and quietnes.

Belieue me if ye list (to you good wiues I speake) that there be verye few ill husbands, whom the pacience and loue of the wyfe, is able at lengthe to winne, or els they be more harde then stones, which the soft and feble water by continuance of time, is able to weare and make holow: for when the wiue's lenitie shall enter his carelesse stomacke, and her pacient suffraunce renew remembraunce of dutie, then doth conscience bite, and gnaw the cancred cord that tyeth vp the good consideracion of his office, and regarde to maried life: then doth age abhorre the lewdnes of former life, and commeth home to cherish the holsome Nourice of his pleasant state. Then regardeth he the bande wherewith matrimonie hath bound him, and both at bedde and borde obserueth the ful perfections of the same.

THE SIXTY-FIFTH NOUELL.

_The simplicitie of an olde woman, that offered a burning candle to S. Iohn of Lions._

In the Church of S. Iohn at Lions, there was a very darke Chappell, and within the same a Tombe made of stone, erected for great personages, with pictures liuely wroughte, and about the same Tombe there doe lie manye worthie knightes of great fame and valiaunce. Vpon a hote Sommer's daye, a souldiour walking vp and downe the Church had great delight to sleape, and beholding that darcke chappell which was colde and fresh of ayre, thoughte to reste vpon the Tombe as other did, besides whom he layde him downe to sleepe. It chaunced that a good old woman very deuoute, came thether when the souldior was in the depth of his sleepe.

And after shee had sayd her deuocions, wyth a wax candle in her hande, she would haue fastened the same vpon the Tombe, and repayring nere the place where the souldiour lay, desirous to sticke it vppon his forehead, thinking it had been the stone, the waxe would take no hold. The old woman, which thought the cause that her candle would not cleaue was the coldnesse of the Image, she warmed the souldior's forehead with the flame of the candle, to sticke it faste. But the Image which was not insensible, beganne to cry oute, whereat the poore woman was so afraide, as like one straught of her wittes, she brake into exclamacion crying: "A miracle! A miracle!" They within the Church hearing an outcry of a miracle, ranne in heapes as though they had been madde, some to ring the belles, and some to see the miracle: whom the good woman broughte to see the Image, which then was remoued: whereat many began to laughe. But diuers priestes not willing so to give ouer so great a Miracle, determined afterwards to vse that tombe in reuerence, therby to get money.

THE SIXTY-SIXTH NOUELL.

_A Doctor of the Lawes boughte a cup, who by the subtiltie of two false varlets, lost both his money and the cuppe._

To conclude our nomber of Nouels, I haue thought good (gentle reader) to bringe in place a Doctour and his wyfe, to giue thee a merye farewell: because thou haste hitherto so frendly and pacientlye suffred thy selfe to be stayed in reading of the reste: wherefore with a pleasaunt Adieu in a short and merie tale, which discloseth the subtiltie of two false knaues to beguile a poore Doctor and his wyfe, I meane to end. And therfore do saye, that in the Citie of Bologna in Italie, there was a wors.h.i.+pful Doctor of the Lawes, called Maister Florien, which in other thinges sauing his profession was but a slouen, and of so ill behauiour as none of his facultie the like: who by sauing of many crustes, had layed vp so good store of Crownes, as he caused to be made a very great and costly Cup of siluer, for payment of which Cup he went to the Goldsmithe's house, and hauinge payed for the siluer, the guilt, and for the fas.h.i.+on, being without his Clarke to carie it home, he prayed the Goldsmith to lend him his man. By chaunce there were newly come to the Citie, two yonge men that were Romaynes, which ranged vp and downe the streates with eares vpright, to view and marke euery thinge done in the same, bearing about them counterfait Iewels and lingots, guilt of S. Martine's touche, to deceiue him that would playe the foole to buy them. One of them was called Liello and the other Dietiquo. These two Marchantes being at good leasure to wander the streates, beholding the pa.s.sangers to and fro, by fortune espied the Goldsmithe's man, who (to set forth the workemans.h.i.+p and making of the cup) caried the same open. These gallants bearing a spite to the cup, more for the siluer than for other malice, purposed to inuent some sleight to get the Cuppe, and a farre of with slie pase, followed the Goldsmithe's man, of whom they craftelie inquired of the owner of the Cup, and where hee had left maister Florien. When they had concluded vppon their enterprise, Liello (the finest boye of them both) went straight to buy a Lamprey of great price, and hiding the same vnder his cloake, repayred directly to Maister Doctour's house, where finding his wife of semblable wit and behauiour that her husband was, with vnshamefast face and like grace, said vnto her: "Maistresse, Maister Florien your husbande hath sent you a fishe, and prayeth you to dresse it and to make dinner readie, because he bringeth a company of other Doctoures with him: in the meane time he requireth you, to retorne vnto him the Cuppe againe, whiche hee sent you this morning by the Goldsmithe's man, because he had forgotten to stampe his armes vppon it." The woman receyuinge the fishe, franckly deliuered him the Cup, and went about to prepare dinner. Liello (which hunted after gaine but better caught his prey) hied him a pace and conueyed himselfe with speede to the house of one of his Countriemen, and there reioyced with his companion, attending for the comming of the Royster Dietiquo, who taried in the Towne, wayting and viewing what pursute was made after his fellowe. Sone after maister Florien retourned to his house and finding his dinner more delicate than it was wont to be, marueyled, and asked his wyfe who was at all that coste. His wyfe very scornefully aunswered: "Why sir, haue you forgotten that you sente me word this morning that you woulde bring home with you diuers Gentlemen to dinner?" "What" (quoth the Doctour) "I thincke you be a foole." "I am not" (sayd shee) "and for better witnesse you sent mee this fishe, that I would you had been better aduised before you had bestowed such coste."

"I a.s.sure thee:" quoth hee, "I sent thee no fishe, but belike it was some folishe knaue that had forgotten his arrant and mistaken the house: but howsoeuer it was wyse, we at this time will be content to fare well, at other mennes charge." "Why sir (sayd his wyfe) call your selfe to better remembraunce, for hee that brought the Lampry, came to me for your Cup, by this token that you would haue your armes engrauen vppon the same." At those words the poore Doctour, after he had discharged three or foure Canons laden with haile shot of scolding words wente out into the streate, running hither and thither demaunding of al them he met, if they saw none carrie a Lampry home to his house.

And you would haue said if you had seen the Doctour wyth his hode hanging at one side, that he had been out of his wittes.

Dietiquo stode still in a corner, and beheld the Doctour's frantike order, and albeit that he was sure the stealinge of the Cuppe by Liello his companion was impossible to be knowen, yet being sorye that the Lampry cost so much, determined also to play his part, and seinge the doctour stayed from making further complaintes and pursute, he went home to the Doctour's house, where smiling with a good grace and bould countenaunce saide vnto his wyfe: "Maistresse Doctour, good newes, the Cup is founde, one whom you know caused the same to be done in sport to bring your husband Maister Florien in a choler, who now is amonges diuers of his frendes iesting at the pleasuant deceipt, and hath sent me hither to fetch their dinner, wherein they praye you to remember the Lamprey, and to come your selfe to take part of the same, bicause they purpose to be mery." The woman ioyful of those newes, began some what to complaine of the griefe which she had taken for losse of the cup, and deliuered to Dietiquo the rosted Lamprey with the sause, betwene two platters who incontinently hid the same vnder his cloke, and wyth so much speede as he could, went to seeke out his companion Lielo, and their countrimen, which all that while had taried for him: and G.o.d knoweth whether those good fellowes did laugh and mocke the poore Doctour, and his wife or not, and when she had made herself gay and trimme to go eate part of the Lamprey, as she was going out she met Maister Florien lookinge lowringlie vppon the matter, to whom she said (smiling like a frumenty pot) "How now, sir, come they hither to dinner? I haue sent you that Lamprey ready dressed." Then Maister Doctor after faire talke, beganne to discharge his double Cannons, callinge his wyfe Wh.o.r.e, b.i.t.c.h, and beaste, and vnderstandinge that he was twice begiled and could not tell by whom, for spite and despayre he tare of his beard, and the heare of his head, which bruted and knowen in the Citie, the Iesters and pleasaunt felowes bent themselues to laugh, and deuise pastime at the poore begiled Doctour and his wyfe.

FINIS.

The ?econd Tome of the Palace of Plea?ure, *conteyning store of goodly Hi?tories,*

Tragicall matters, and other Mo- *rall argument, very re-*

_qui?ite for delighte_ *and profit.*

_Cho?en and selected out of_ _diuers good and commen- dable Authors:_

By William Painter, Clerke of the Ordinance and Armarie.

ANNO.1567.

Imprinted at London, in Pater Noster Rowe, by Henry Bynneman, for Nicholas England.

_To the Right Wors.h.i.+pful Sir George Howard Knight, Maister of the Quene's Maiestie's Armarye._

Every science hauing his peculier commodity, and conducinge to the trauayler and dilligent searcher, a due deserued benefyte (besydes the exercise and shunninge the pestilent monster Idlenes) discloseth the miraculous effect of the Diuinity, and the excellency of his Creature: who breathing life into that sencelesse worke, framed within the mould of humayn Conception, forceth in him by nature and timely inst.i.tution such capacitye of Science, as not onelye by that knowledge hee glorifyeth his Creator, but also besydes himselfe, helpeth and doth good to other. For profe whereof the Science of that surpa.s.sing and delightsome pasture of Theologie, is profitable to teache, argue, reproue, and instruct, that by pacience and consolation, we may conceiue hope of Eternitye. The knowledge of Philosophie cureth the Mynde, auoydeth childish care, expelleth feare, and shunneth fond desyres. O Philosophye, the guide of life, (exclameth Tullie) the inquisitor of Vertue and expeller of vice. Rethorike (affirmeth he) causeth vs to learne that we know not and that we know to teach to other: by the same we exhort, with that we perswade, with that we comfort the afflicted, by it we encourage the astonned, and appease the outragious. Musike, easeth the troubled mynde, lenifyeth sorrowe, comforteth the heauye harted, and erecteth a contemplatyon of heauenlye thinges. Astronomye, reuealeth the nature of the Starres and Planets, presageth dayes and times for the helpe and maintenaunce of life. Poesie teacheth amendment of manners, directeth what things be mete for imitation, and with what detriment wantonnes anoyeth the bodye of man. By meanes of it (Sainct Augustine saith,) he learned many good lessons to profite himselfe and do good to other. To be short euery science is so necessary, as the same taken away, reason is depriued and the Life of Man (of due order and gouernment) defrauded. Thinke (sayth a Greke Oratour) the knowledge of many thinges to bee more precious and excellent, then a Chest heaped vp with abundance of money: for the one quickly fayleth, and the other for euer lasteth. For Scientia (affirmeth hee) is the onelye immortall storehouse of all possessions. Amonges which troupe of Sciences, the knowledge and search of Histories deserueth a place in the chefest rank, and is for example of humaine affayres, a Christal light to shew the pathes of our Auncestors.

The same displaieth the counsels, aduises, pollicies, actes, successe, and endes of Kinges, Princes and great men, with the order and discription of time and place. And like a liuely image representeth before our eies the beginning, end and circ.u.mstaunce of ech attempt. The same (like a Mistresse of our life) by probable examples stirreth vp our sluggish mindes, to aspyre the eternal glorie of praise and fame, and terrifyeth the desperate and aduenturous, from enterprise of things vnseemely.

The same is a pa.s.sing picture of verity, and an absolute paterne framinge the matter greatter nor lesse then it is. And because I am not ignorant what Encomia innumerable Authors in time past, and wryters of our tyme do attribute vnto that science, and with what t.i.tles the Prince of them all decketh the praise of Historicall knowledge, I only refer the worthines to the practisers, and the syngularitye of Histories trauel and delight, to ech willing minde that imploye their leasure and tyme therin. And I for my parte do confesse (that by reading of Histories) I fynd the saying which Tullie aduoucheth of Publius Scipio to bee true: that he was neuer lesse idle, then when he was idle, and neuer lesse alone, then when he was alone, meaning therby, that when he was at best leisure, he was neuer idle, nor when he was alone vnoccupied. For when labor resteth him selfe in me, and leisure refresheth other affaires nothing delights more that vacant tyme, than readinge of Histories in such vulgar speache, wherein my small knowledge taketh repast. And for that my priuat reading might not delyte and pleasure me alone, to auoid the nature of that cankred churle and foe of humain companye, Timon of Athens, that liued but for him selfe, I haue (after my skill) culled some floures and fruites from that pleasaunt store of those my readinges to impart for vniversal gayne and benefite, chosynge rather hereby to followe the liberalitye of Cimon a gentleman of that Cittye, who knowynge hymselfe to bee borne to profite other and for the enriching of his Couutry, not only atchiued maruailous matters for furtherance of Comon wealth, but lefte his Gardens and Orchards open for all men to partic.i.p.ate the Fruictes of his pleasure and trauell. Wherby so wel as I can I follow the tract and practice of other, by whose meanes, so manifold sciences in our known toung and translation of Histories be frequent and rife amonge vs. Al which be done after our commodity, pleasure, solace, preseruation and comfort, and without the which we cannot long be sustayned in this miserable lyfe, but shal become not much vnlyke the barbarous, ne discrepant from the sauage sorte. The inuestigatours and bringers to light, wherof direct their eyes and meaning to none other end but for the benefyte of vs and our posteritye, and that our faces be not taynted with the blus.h.i.+ng coloure to se the pa.s.sing diligence of other Countryes by curious imbelis.h.i.+nge of their states with the troublous trauaile of their brayne, and laboursom course of penne. Who altogeather imploi those paynes, that no Science lurke in Corner, that no Knowledge be shut vp in cloysters, that no History remaine vnder the maske and vnknowne attyre of other tongues. Among which crew (I say) I craue an inferiour place and haue vndertaken the vnfolding of sundry Histories from the couerture of foren language for none other purpose and intent but to vniuersal benefyte. Part whereof, two yeares past (almost) were made commune in a former boke, now succedeth a second, furnished withlike ornaments that the other was. The first (by duties chalenge) was addressed to the right honorable the Earle of Warwik, for respect of his honour, and my calling. This the second by lyke band, your wors.h.i.+p may iustly clayme as a iust tribute now this moneth of Nouember, payable. Or if your curtesye would not deale so roughly with youre bounden creditoure, yet for duty sake I must acquite and content that which hath so long ben due. The same I offer now not with such vsury and gayne as your beneuolence and syngular bounty, by long forbearing hath deserued, but with such affected will and desyre of recompence, as any man alyue can owe to so rare a friend.

Your wors.h.i.+p I haue chosen for the firste person of this boke, and the protector of the same (the matter moste specially therin comprised, treating of courtly fas.h.i.+ons and maners, and of the customes of loue's gallantise, and the good or yll successe therof,) because you be an auncient Courtier, and one of the eldest Trayne, and such as hath bene imployed by sundry our Princes, in their affayres of greatest wayght and importance, and for that your selfe in your l.u.s.tiest tyme (euer bred and brought vp in Court,) haue not ben vnacquainted with those occurrants. If I shoulde stand particularlye to touch the originall of your n.o.ble Auncestry, the succession of that renowmed line, their fidelity for graue aduise and counsel, your honowrable education, the mariage of a mighty kyng with one of your sisters, the valiant exploites of your parents againste the Frenche and Scottes, the worthye seruice of your selfe in fielde, wherby you deseruedly wanne the order of Knighthode, the trust which her maiestie reposeth in you, by disposing vnder your charge the store of her Armure, and your worthy preferment to be Maister of her Armary generall. If I should make recitall of your careful industry and painful trauel sustayned, for aunswearing her Maiestye's expectation, your n.o.ble cheris.h.i.+ng of the skilful in that science, your good aduancemente of the best to supply the vacant romes, your refusall of the vnworthy: and finally of your modest and curteous dealings in that office, I feare lacke of ability (and not of matter) would want grace and order by further circ.u.mstaunce to adde sufficient prayse: yea although my selfe do say nothinge, (but reserue the same in silence to auoyd suspecte of adulation) the very armure and their furnitures do speake, vniuersal testimony doth wonder, and the Readines of the same for tyme of seruice doth aduouch. Which care of things continually resting in your breast, hath atchyued such a tymely diligence, and successe, as when her Maiestye's aduersary shal be readye to molest, she shal be prest (by G.o.d's a.s.sistance) to defend and march. But not to hold your wors.h.i.+p long by length of preamble, or to discourse what I might further saye, either in fauour of this boke, or commendation of youre selfe, I meane (for this instant) to leaue the one to general iudgment, and the other to the particular sentence of ech of your acquaintance. Humblye making this onlye sute that my good wil may supplye the imperfection of myne abilitye. And so with my harty prayer for your preseruation to him that is the auctor of life and health, I take my leaue.

From my pore house besides the Tower of London, the iiij. of Nouember, 1567.

Your most bounden WILLIAM PAINTER.

TO THE READER.

As shewed curtesie deserueth grateful acquital and frendly fauour forceth mutual merit. So for gentle acceptation of my other boke, I render to thy delite and profit a second Tome, for which I craue but like report: albeit, neither worthy of any: or other then the rude artificer gayneth by tryal of his art. Who hauing committed to his skil and workmans.h.i.+p, some substance of gold, or other precious matter, fas.h.i.+oneth the same with such bungled shape and order, as (besydes disprayse) it carieth the vnablenes of the workman. Howsoeuer (then) the ablenes or perfection herof vniuersally shal content or particularly displease: the boke craueth mild construction, for imploied paines. And yet the same (liking or lothing the licorous diet, and curious expectation of som) shal beare regarde with those that more delite in holsom viandes (voyd of variety) than in the confused mixture of foren drugges fetched farr of. Who no doubt will supply with fauorable brute, default of ablenes and riper skil in the Histories of forren spech. Which is the guerdon (besides publike benefyte) after which I gaze, and the best stipend that ech wel willinge mind (as I suppose) aspireth for their trauel, and briefly to touch what comodity thou shalt reape of these succeding Histories, I deme it not vnapt for thine instruction, to vnfold what pith and substance, resteth vnder the context of their discourse.

In the Nouel of the AMAZONES, is displayed a straunge or miraculous port, (to our present skill) of womens gouernment, what state they subdued, what increase of Kingdome, what combats and conflictes they durst attempt contrary to the nature of that s.e.xe.

In ALEXANDER the greate, what ought to bee the grat.i.tude and curtesye in a puissant Prince, toward his slaue and captiue, and to what perilous plunge he slippeth by exchange of vice for vertue.

In TIMOCLIA and THEOXENA the stoutnesse of two n.o.ble Dames to auoyde the beastly l.u.s.t and raging fury of Tyrantes.

ARIOBARZANES telleth the duty of a subiect to his Prince: and how he ought not to contende with his souerayn in matters of curtesy, at length also the condition of courting flatterers: and the poison of the monster Enuy.

ARISTOTIMVS disgarboyleth the intralles of Tiranny, describing the end whereunto Tirants do attein and how that vice plagueth their posterity.

The two Romayne QUEENS do point (as it wer) with their fyngers, the natures of Ambition and cruelty, and the gredy l.u.s.t (hidden in that feeble s.e.xe) of souerainty.

SOPHONISBA reporteth the force of beauty, and what poyson distilleth from that licourous sappe to inuenim the hartes of valiant gentlemen.

The gentlewomen of HYDRVSA the ficlenes of Fortune.

The Empresse FAUSTINA, and the countesse of CELANT, what blossoms blome of whorish life, and what fruictes therof be culled.

The letters of the Emperour TRAIANE, do paynt a right shape of vertue, a good state of gouernment, and the comly form of obedience.

Three Amorous Dames reueale the sleights of loue the redines of n.o.bles to be baited with the amorous hoke, and what desire such infamous strumpets haue to be honored.

Queene ZEn.o.bIA, what the n.o.ble Gentlewomen (whom the fates ordayne to rule) ought to do, how farre their magnanimity ought to stretch, and in what boundes to conteine their souerainty.