knew it was but a ball. But in the end the bitter sauce of the sport was, that we had either our hearts broken with sorrow, or our estates spoiled by being at his direction, or our honours for ever lost, partly by our own faults, but principally by his faulty using of our faults. For never was there man that could with more scornful eyes behold her, at whose feet he had lately lain, nor with a more unmanlike bravery use his tongue to her disgrace, which lately had song sonnets of her praises being so naturally inconstant, as 1 marvel his soul finds not some way to kill his body, whereto it had been so long united. For so hath he dealt with us, unhappy fools, as we could never tell, whether he made greater haste after he once liked, to enjoy, or after he once enjoyed, to forsake. But making a glory of his own shame, it delighted him to be challenged of unkindness, it was triumph to him to have his mercy called for: and he thought the fresh colours of his beauty were painted in nothing so well, as in the ruins of his lovers: yet so far had we engaged ourselves, unfortunate souls, that we listed not complain, since our complaints, could not but carry the greatest accusation to ourselves. But every one of us, each for herself, laboured all means how to recover him, while he rather daily sent us companions of our deceit, than ever returned in any sound and faithful manner. Till at length he concluded all his wrongs with betrothing himself to one, I must confess, worthy to be liked if any worthiness might excuse SO unworthy a changeableness; leaving us nothing but remorse for what was past, and a despair of what might follow. Then indeed the common injury made us all join in fellowship, who till that time had employed for we thought than the justi our endeavours one against the other, nothing was a more condemning of us, fying of his love to her by marriage: then despair made fear valiant, and revenge gave shame countenance : whereupon, we, that you saw here, devised how to get him among us alone: which he, suspecting no such matter of them whom he had by often abuses, he thought, made tame to be still abused, easily gave us opportunity to do. 66 And a man may see, even in this, how soon rulers grow proud, and in their pride foolish: he came with such an authority among us, as if the planets had done enough for us, that by us once he had been delighted. And when we began in courteous manner, one after the other, to lay his unkindness unto him, he seeing himself confronted by so many, like a resolute orator, went not to denial, but to justify his cruel falshood, and all with such jests, and disdainful passages, that if the injury could not be made greater, yet were our conceits made the apter to apprehend it. Among other of his answers, forsooth, I shall never forget, how he would prove it was no inconstancy to change from one love to another, but a great constancy; and contrary, that which we call constancy, to be most changeable. For, said he, I ever loved my delight, and delighted always in what was lovely: and wheresoever, I found occasion to obtain that, I constantly followed it. But these constant fools you speak of, though their mistress grow by sickness foul, or by fortune miserable, yet still will love her, and so commit the absurdest inconstancy that may be, in changing their love from fairness to foulness, and from loveliness to his contrary; like one not content to leave a friend, but will streight give over himself, to his mortal enemy: where I, whom you call inconstant, am ever constant to beauty, in others, and delight in my self. And so in this jolly scoffing bravery he went over us all, saying, he left one, because she was over-wayward: another, because she was too soon won: a third, because she was not merry enough: a fourth, because she was over-gamesome: the fifth, because she was grown with grief subject to sickness: the sixth, because she was so foolish, as to be jealous of him: the seventh, because she had refused to carry a letter for him to another that he loved: the eighth, because she was not secret: the ninth, because she was not liberal: but to me. who am named Dido, and indeed have met with a false Æneas: to me I say, O the ungrateful villain, he could find no other fault to object, but that, perdy, he met with many fairer. "But when he had thus played the careless prince, we having those servants of ours in readiness, whom you lately so manfully overcome, laid hold of him; beginning at first but that trifling revenge, in which you found us busy; but meaning afterwards to have mangled him so, as should have lost his credit for ever abusing more. But as you have made my fellows fly away, so for my part the greatness of his wrong over-shadows, in my judgment, the greatness of any danger. For was it not enough for him to have deceived me, and through the deceit abused me, and after the abuse forsaken me, but that he must now, of all the company, and before all the company, lay want of beauty to my charge? many fairer. I trow even in your judgment, sir, if your eyes do not beguile me, not many fairer; and I know, whoever says the contrary, there are not many fairer. And of whom should I receive this reproach, but of him who hath best cause to know there are not many fairer? and therefore howsoever my fellows pardon his injuries, for my part I will ever remember, and remember to revenge his scorn of all scorns. With that she to him afresh; and surely would have put out his eyes, who lay mute for shame, if he did not sometimes cry for fear, if I had not leapt from my horse, and mingling force with entreaty, stayed her fury, "But while I was persuading her to meekness, comes a number of his friends, to whom he forthwith cried, that they should kill that woman, that had thus betrayed and disgraced him. But then I was fain to forsake the ensign, under which I had before served, and spend my uttermost force in the protecting of the lady: which so well prevailed for her, that in the end, there was a faithful peace promised of all sides. And so I, leaving her in a place of security, as she thought, went on my journey towards Anaxius, for whom I was forced to stay two days in the appointed place, he disdaining to wait for me till he were sure I were there. "I did patiently abide his angry pleasure, till about that space of time he came, indeed, according to promise, alone: and, that I may not say too little, because he is wont to say too much, like a man, whose courage was apt to clime over any danger. And as soon as ever he came near me, in fit distance for his purpose, he with much fury, but with fury skilfully guided, ran upon me; which I, in the best sort I could, resisted; having kept myself ready for him, because I had understood that he observed few compliments in matter of arms, but such as a proud anger did indite unto him. And so putting our horses into a full career, we hit K each other upon the head with our launces: I think he felt my blow; for my part, I must confess, I never received the like: but I think, though my senses were astonished, my mind forced them to quicken themselves,. because I had learned of him, how little favour he is wont to shew in any matter of advantage. And indeed he was turned and coming upon me with his sword. drawn, both our staves having been broken, at that encounter: but I was so ready to answer him, that truly I know not who gave the first blow. But whosoever gave the first, was quickly seconded by the second.— And indeed, excellentest lady, I must say true, for a time it was well fought between us; he undoubtedly being of singular valour, I would to God, it were not abased by his too much loftiness: but as, by the occasion of the combat, winning and losing ground, we changed places, his horse, happened to come upon the point of the broken spear, which, fallen to the ground, chanced to stand upward, so as it lighting upon his heart the horse died. He driven to dismount, threatened, if I did not the like, to do as much for my horse, as fortune had done for his. But whether for that, or because I would not be beholden to fortune for any part of the victory, I descended. So began our footfight in such sort, that we were well entered to blood on both sides, when there comes by that unconstant Pamphilus, whom I had delivered, easy to be known, for he was barefaced, with a dozen armed men after him; but before him he had Dido, that lady, who had most sharply punished him, riding upon a palfrey, he following her with most unmanlike cruelty; beating her with wands he had in his hand, she crying for sense of pain, or hope of succour which was so pitiful a sight |