Now if

of my fancie, and in these homely roabes mayst thou note the retchlesness of my fortunes, that for thy love have strained a note too high in love. I offend nature as repugnant to my father, whose displeasure I have purchast to please thee: I have given a finall farewell to my friends, to bee thy familiar: I have lost all hope of preferment, to confirme the simpathie of both our desires. Ah, Franceseo, see, I come thus poore in apparrell, to make thee rich in content. hereafter, (oh let me sigh at that, lest I bee forced to repent too late) when thy eie is glutted with my beautie, and thy hotte love prooved soone cold, then beginst thou to hate her that thus loveth thee, and proove as Demophoon did to Phyllis, or as Eneas did to Dido. What then may I doe, rejected, but accurse mine owne follie, that hath brought me to such hard fortunes? Give me leave, Francesco, to feare what may fall, for men are as inconstant in performance, as cunning in practice. She could not fully discourse what she was about to utter. but he broke off with this protestation: Ah Isabel, although the windes of Lepanthus are ever inconstant, the chrisrol ever brittle, the polipa ever changeable, yet measure not my minde by other motions, nor the depth of my affection by the fleeting of other fancies, for, as there is topace that will yeeld to every stampe, so there is an emerald that will yeeld to no impression. The selfe-same Troy, as it had an Eneas that was fickle, so it had Troilus that was constant. Greece had a Pyramus, as it had a Demophoon, and though some have been ungratefull, yet accuse not all to be unthankfull, for when Francesco shall let his eie slip from thy beauty, or his thoughts from thy qualities, or his hart from thy vertues, or his whole life from ever honouring thee, then shall heaven cease to have starres, the earth trees, the world elements, and every thing reversed, shall fall to their former chaos.'

"Why then (quoth Isabel), to horsebacke, for feare the faith of two such lovers be impeached by my father's wakefull jealousie.' And

with that (poore woman) halfe naked as she was, she mounted, and as fast as horse could pace away, they post towards a towne in the said country of Brittaine, called Duncastrum.

6

Where let us leave them in their gallop, and returne to old Fregoso, who, rising early in the morning, and missing his daughter, askt for her through the whole house: but seeing none could discover where she was, and assured of her escape, he cried out as a man halfe lunaticke, that hee was by Francesco robd of his onely jewell.' Whereupon, in despairing fury, he caused al his men and his tenants to mount them, and to disperse themselves with hue and cry for the recovery of his daughter, hee himselfe being horst, and riding the readie way to Duncastrum. Where hee no sooner came, but fortune meaning to dally with the old dotard, and to present him with a bone to gnaw on, brought it so to passe, that as he came riding downe the towne hee met Francesco and his daughter comming from the church, which although it pierst him to the quicke, and straind every string of his heart to the highest note of sorrow, yet he concealed it till he tooke his inne: and then stumbling as fast as hee could to the Maior's house of the towne, he revealed unto him the whole cause of his distresse, requiring his favour by the clapping up of this unruely gentleman and to make the matter more heinous, he accused him of felony, that he had not onely, contrary to the custome bereft him of his daughter against his will, but with his daughter, had taken away certain plate. This evidence caused the Mayor straight, guarded with his officers, to march down with Fregoso, to the place where Isabel and her Francesco were at breakfast, little thinking (poore soules) such a sharpe storme should follow so quiet a calme: but fortune would have it so. And, therefore, as they were carowsing each to other in a sweete frolike of hoped for content, the Mayor rusht in, and apprehended him of felony, which drave the poor perplexed lovers into such a dumpe, that they stoode as the pictures that Perseus with his shield turned into stones. Francesco presently with a sharpe insight entered into the cause, and perceived it was the drift of the old foxe his father in law; wherefore he took it with more patience. But Isabel, seeing her new husbaud so handled, fell into a swoun for sorrow, which could not prevaile with the serjeants, but they conveyed

him to prison, and her to the Maior's house."

Francescoe's imprisonment, however, is not for long. The Mayor takes the side of the young people, and discovering there is no truth in the charge of felony, he takes Isabel to the prison that she may liberate her lover. They arrive at the young man's dungeon just as he is "taking a citterne in his hand," and commences "warbling out an ode." As the reader has already had a specimen of Francescoe's odes, we will not insert the one he warbled out on the present occasion, but take up the story at the conclusion of the harmony.

"Having thus chaunted over his ode, hee heard the chamber doore open, whereupon he grew melancholie: but when he saw the goddesse of his affection, on whose constant loyalty depended the essence of his happinesse, hee started, as when love-sick Mars saw Venus entring his pavilion in triumph, entertaining them all generally with such affabilities, and her particularly with such courtesie, that hee shewed himselfe as full of nurture as of nature. Interchange of entertainment then past betweene these two lovers, as well with emphasis of wordes, as exstasie of mindes, concluding with streames of patheticall teares. The Mayor at last entred parley, and told Francesco, though his father-in-law had alleadged felony against him, yet because he perceived that it rather proceeded of

some

secret revenge than any manifest truth, and that no further evidence came to censure the allegation, he was content to set him at libertie conditionally: Francesco should give his hand, to bee auswerable to what hereafter in that behalfe might be objected against him. These conditions accepted, Francesco was set at libertie, and hee and Isabel joyntly together taking themselves to a little cottage, began to be as Ciceronicall as they were amorous with their hands' thrift coveting to satisfie their harts' thirst, and to bee as diligent in labours as they were affectionate in loves, so that the parish in which they lived so affected them for the course of their life, that they were accounted the very mirrors of a Democraticall methode, for he being a scholler, and nurst up in the universities, resolved rather to live by his witte than any way to be

pinched by want, thinking this old sen tence to be true, that wishers and woulders were never good householders; therefore he applied himselfe in teaching of a schoole, where by his industry, hee had not only grate favour, but gat wealth to withstand fortune. Isabel, that she might seeme no less profitable than her husband carefull, fell to her needle, and with her worke, sought to prevent the injurie of necessitie. Thus they laboured to maintain their loves, being as busie as bees and as true as turtles; as desirous to satisfie the world with their desert, as to feede the humours of their owne desires. Living thus in a league of united vertues, out of this mutuall concorde of confirmed perfection, they had a son aunswerable to their own proportion, which did increase their amitie, so as the sight of their young infant was a double ratifying of their affection. Fortune and love thus joyning in league to make these parties forget the stormes that nipped the blossomes of their former yeres, addicted to the content of their loves this conclusion of blisse. the terme of five yeares, Segnior Fregoso, hearing by sundrie reports the fame of their forwardnes, howe Francesco coveted to be most loving to his daughter, and she most dutifull to him, and both strive to exceede one another in loyaltie: glad at this mutual agreement, hee fell from the furie of his former melancholly passions, and satisfied himselfe with a contented patience, that at last he directed letters to his sonne-in-law, that he should make repair to his house with his daughter, which newes was no sooner come to the eares of this maried couple, but providing for al things necessarie for the furniture of their voyage, they posted as fast as they could towards Caerbranke, where, speedily arriving at their father's house, they found such friendly entertainement at the old mans hands that they counted this smile of fortune able to countervaile al the contrarie stormes, that the adverse planets had inflicted uppon them."

After

From this period of good nature, however, fortune changes to the young couple, and their matrimonial course becomes troubled. Francesco has occasion to leave his wife, and to travel on business to the city of Troynovant, at which place he falls in love

with a very worthless lady named Infida, to whom he pays his addresses in Euphuistic style, and she responds in the same strain. At first they only ogle each other across the street, but soon they interchange letters and odes -eventually they commit improprieties for which there is not the slightest excuse.' Isabel hears of Francesco's infidelity, and tries to reclaim him from the siren's influence by sending him the most exemplary letters, which he, base man! treats with neglect. During the continuance of this state of things, the deserted Isabel well nigh falls a victim to the machinations of a wicked old judge. The story of "Susannah and the Elders" (which History by-the-bye Robt. Greene amplified and made into a novel, and published under the title of "The Myrrour of Modestie") is acted once again. Isabel displays the virtue of Susannah, and, when on the point of being condemned of a heinous crime, is shown to be innocent by a providential interposition. The fame of Isabel's excellence hereupon spreads through the country, and reaches the ears of her husband at Troynovant, who has already split with Infida. Francesco, on receiving the intelligence so honourable to his wife, suddenly bethinks himself that he has been guilty of injustice to her, repents, and determines to return home to Caerbranke. After a festive entertainment and an affecting farewell to his bachelor acquaintance at Troynovant, our hero acts on his good resolution, starts for home, and without any mishap reaches the presence of the muchwronged Isabel.

"Within five daies he arrived at Caerbranke, where, as soone as he was lighted, he went to the house where his wife sojourned; and one of the maids espying Francesco, yet knew him for al his long absence, and ranne in and told it to Isabel, that her husband was at the dore. She being at work in her chamber, sate as one in extasie, until Francesco came up, who, at the first sight of his wife, considering the excellency of her beautie, her vertues, chastity, and other perfections, and measuring her constancy with his disloyaltie, stoode as a man metamorphosed at last he began thus:- Ah, Isabel, what shall I say to thy fortunes or my follies? what exordium shall I use to show my penance, or

VOL. XLVII.-NO, CCLXXVIII.

discover my sorrowes, or expresse my present joyes? For I tel thee I conceave as great pleasure to see thee wel, as grief in that I have wronged thee with my absence. Might sighs, Isabel, teares, plaintes, or any such exterior passions pourtray out my inward repentence, I would shew thee the anatomie of a most distressed man: but amongst many sorrowing thoughts, there is such confusion, that superfluitie of griefes stops the source of my miscontent. To figure out my follies, or the extremity of my fancies, were but to manifest the bad course of my life, and to rub the scar, by setting out mine own scathe: and therefore let it suffice, I repent heartily, I sorrow deeply, and meane to amend and continue in the same constantly. At this Francesco stood and wept, which Isabel seeing, conceived by his outward griefs his secret passions, and therefore taking him about the neck, wetting his cheekes with the teares that fel from her eies, she made him this womanly and wise answer: 'What, Francesco, comest thou home full of woes, or seekest thou at thy returne to make me weepe? Hast thou been long absent, and now bringest thou mee a treatise of discontent? I see thou art penitent, and therefore I am like not to heare what follies are past. It sufficeth for Isabel, that henceforth thou wilt love Isabel, and upon that condition, without any more wordes, welcome to Isabel!' With that she smiled and wept, and, in doing both together, sealed up all her contrarie passions in a kisse."

After this reconciliation, Isabel conducts her husband into an adjoining apartment to a banquet provided by the host of the house in which she dwells. After the neighbours bidden to the feast have well supped, the host tells a tale.

"Francesco, Isabel, and all the rest of the guests applauded this discourse of the pleasant host, and for that it was late in the night, they al rose, and taking their leave of Francesco, departed; he and his wife bidding their host good night, and so going to bed, where we leave them to leade the rest of their lives in quiet."-[Query: Are they never to get up again?]

The courteous Palmer having gratified Robert Greene with this lengthy narrative, takes a polite adieu of that gentleman and Mrs. Greene.

P