Part 3

_The Song of Antonio Bologna, the husband of the Duchesse of Malfi._

If loue, the death, or tract of tyme, haue measured my distresse, Or if my beatinge sorrowes may my languor well expresse: Then loue come soone to visit me, which most my heart desires, And so my dolor findes some ease, through flames of fansies fires. The time runnes out his rollinge course, for to prolong myne ease, To th' end I shall enioy my loue, and heart himselfe appease, A cruell darte brings happy death, my soule then rest shall find: And sleepinge body vnder Toumbe, shall dreame time out of mynde, And yet the Loue, the Time, nor Death, lookes not how I decreace: Nor geueth eare to any thinge, of this my wofull peace. Full farre I am from my good hap, or halfe the ioye I craue, Whereby I chaung my state wyth teares, and draw full neere my graue. The courteous Gods that giues me lyfe, now mooues the Planets all: For to arrest my groning ghost, and hence my sprite to call. Yet from them still I am separd, by thinges vnequall heere, Not ment the Gods may be vniust, that breedes my chaunging cheere. For they prouide by their foresight, that none shall doe me harme: But she whose blasing beauty bright, hath brought me in a charme. My mistresse hath the powre alone, to rid me from this woe: Whose thrall I am, for whom I die, to whom my sprite shall goe. Away my soule, goe from the griefs, that thee oppresseth still, And let thy dolor witnesse beare, how mutch I want my will. For since that loue and death himselfe, delights in guiltlesse bloud, Let time transport my troubled sprite, where destny seemeth good.

This song ended, the poor Gentleman could not forbeare from pouring forth his luke warme Tears, which abundantly ran downe his heauy Face, and his pantinge Sighes truly discouered the alteration of his mynde, whych mooued ech wight of that assembly to pitty his mournful State: and one specially of no acquaintance, and yet knew the deuises that the Aragon Brethren had trayned and contriued against hym: that vnacquaynted gentleman his name was Delio, one very well learned, and of trim inuention, who very excellently hath endited in the Italian vulgar tongue. This Delio knowing the Gentleman to be husband to the deceased Duchesse of Malfi, came vnto him, and taking him aside, said: "Sir, albeit I haue no great acquaintance with you, this being the first time that euer I saw you, to my remembrance, so it is, that vertue hath sutch force, and maketh gentle myndes so amorous of their like, as when they doe beholde ech other, they feele themselues coupled as it were in a bande of mindes, that impossible it is to diuide the same: now knowinge what you be, and the good and commendable qualities in you, I coumpt it my duty to reueale that which may chaunce to breede you damage. Know you then, that I of late was in company with a Noble man of Naples, whych is in this Citty, banded with a certaine company of horsemen, who tolde mee that he had a speciall charge to kill you, and therefore prayed me (as it seemed) to require you not to come in his sight, to the intent he might not be constrayned to doe that which should offend his Conscience, and grieue the same all the dayes of his life: moreouer I haue worse Tidinges to tell you: the Duchesse your Wyfe deade by violent hand in prison, and the most part of them that were in hir company: besides this assure your selfe, that if you doe not take heede to that which this Neapolitane Capitnyne hath differred, other wyll doe and execute the same. This mutch I haue thought good to tell you, bicause it would very mutch grieue me, that a Gentleman so excellent as you be, should be murdered in that myserable wyse, and I should deeme my selfe vnworthy of lyfe, if knowing these practises I should dissemble the same." Whereunto Bologna aunswered: "Syr Delio, I am greatly bound vnto you, and geue you hearty thankes for the good will you beare me. But in the conspiracy of the brethren of Aragon, and of the death of my lady, you be deceyued, and some haue giuen you wrong intelligence: for within these two dayes I receyued letters from Naples, wherein I am aduertised, that the right honorable and reuerend Cardinal and his Brother be almost appeased, and that my goods shall bee rendred agayne, and my dear Wyfe restored." "Ah syr," sayde Delio, "how you be beguiled and Fedde wyth Follyes, and nourished with sleights of Court: assure your selfe that they which write these trifles, make sutch shamefull sale of your lyfe, as the Butcher doth of his flesh in the Shambles, and so wickedly betray you, as impossible it is to inuent a treason more detestable: but bethinke you well thereof." When he had sayd so, he tooke hys leaue, and ioyned hymselfe in company of fine and pregnaunt Wyttes, there assembled together. In the meane tyme, the cruell Spirite of the Aragon Brethren were not yet appeased with the former murders, but needes must finish the last act of Bologna hys Tragedy by losse of hys Lyfe, to keepe hys Wyfe and Chyldren company, so well in an other Worlde as he was vnited with them in Loue in this frayle and transitory passage. The Neapolitan gentleman before spoken of by Delio, whych had taken this enterprise to satissie the barbarous Cardinall to berieue his Countreyman of lyfe, hauinge chaunged his mynde, and differring from day to day to sorte the same to effect, it chaunced that a Lombarde of larger Conscience than the other, inueigled with Couetousnesse, and hired for ready Money, practised the death of the Duchesse poore husband: this bloudy beaste was called Daniel de Bozola that had charge of a certayne bande of footemen in Millan. Thys newe Iudas and pestilent manqueller, who wythin certayne dayes after knowinge that Bologna oftentymes Repayred to heare Seruice at the Church and conuent of S. Fraunces, secretly conueyed himself in ambush, hard besides the church of S. Iames, (being accompanied wyth a certayne troupe of Souldiers) to assayle infortunate Bologna, who was sooner slayne than hee was able to thinke vpon defence, and whose mishap was sutch, as hee whych kylled hym had good leysure to saue himselfe by reason of the little pursuite made after hym. Beholde heere the Noble fact of a Cardinall, and what sauer it hath of Christian purity, to commit a slaughter for a fact done many yeares past vpon a poore Gentleman which neuer thought him hurt. Is thys the sweete obseruation of the Apostles, of whom they vaunt themselues to be the Successours and followers? And yet we cannot finde nor reade, that the Apostles, or those that stept in their trade of lyfe, hyred Ruffians, and Murderers to cut the Throates of them which did them hurt. But what? it was in the tyme of Iulius the second, who was more martiall than Christian, and loued better to shed bloud than giue blessing to the people. Sutch ende had the infortunate mariage of him, whych ought to haue contented himselfe wyth that degree and honor that he had acquired by the deedes and glory of his vertues, so mutch by ech wight recommended: we ought neuer to climb higher than our force permitteth, ne yet surmount the bounds of duty, and lesse suffer our selues to be haled fondly forth with desire of brutal sensuality. Which sinne is of sutch nature, that he neuer giueth ouer the party whom he maystereth, vntil he hath brought him to the shame of some Notable Folly. You see the miserable discourse of a Princesse loue, that was not very wyse, and of a Gentleman that had forgotten his estate, which ought to serue for a lookinge Glasse to them which bee ouer hardy in makinge Enterprises, and doe not measure their Ability wyth the greatnesse of their Attemptes: where they ought to mayntayne themselues in reputation, and beare the title of well aduised: foreseeing their ruine to be example for all posterity, as may bee seene by the death of Bologna, and by all them which sprang of him, and of his infortunate Spouse his Lady and Maistresse. But we haue discoursed inough hereof, sith diuersity of other hystories do call vs to bring the same in place, which were not mutch more happy than the bloudy end of those, whose Hystory ye haue already heard.

THE TWENTY-FOURTH NOUELL.

_The disordered Lyfe of the Countesse of Celant, and how shee (causinge the County of Masino to be murdered,) was beheaded at Millan._

Not wythout good cause of long tyme haue the wyse, and discrete, Prudently gouerned their Children, and taken great heede ouer their Daughters, and those also whom they haue chosen to bee their Wyues, not in vsing them lyke Bondwomen, and Slaues, to beereiue them of all Liberty, but rather to auoyde the murmur, and secrete slaunderous Speach of the common people, and occasions offred for infection, and marrying of Youth, specially circumspect of the assaultes bent agaynst Maydens, being yet in the firste flames of fire, kindled by nature in the hearts, yea of those that be the wysest, and best brought vp. Some doe deeme it very straunge, that solempne Guard bee obserued ouer those which ought to lyue at lyberty, and doe consider how lyberty and the bridle of Lycence let slip vnto Youth, they breede vnto the same most strong and tedious Bondage, that better it had bene for youth to haue beene chayned, and closed in obscure Pryson, than marked wyth those blottes of infamy, which Sutch Lycence and Lyberty doe conduce. If England doe not by experience see Maydens of Noble Houses Infamed through to mutch vnbrideled, and frank maner of Lyfe, and their Parents desolate for sutch villanyes, and the name of their houses become Fabulous and Ridiculous to the people: surely that manner of Espiall and watch ouer Children, may be noted in Nations not very farre conuening from vs, where men be Ielous of the very Fantasie of them, whom they think to be indued with great vertues, and of those that dare with their very Lookes geue attaynt, to behold their Daughters: but where examples be euident, where all the World is assured of that which they see by daily experience, that the fruicts of the disordered, breake out into light, it behooueth no more to attend the daungerous customes of Countreyes, to condescend to the sottish Opinions of those, whych say that youth to narrowly looked vnto, is trayned vp in sutch grosenesse, and blockishnesse of spyrite, as impossible it is afterwardes the same shoulde do any thinge prayse worthy. The Romayne maydens whilom were Cloystered within their Fathers Pallaces, still at their Mothers Elbowes, and notwithstanding were so wel brought vp, that those of best ciuility and finest trained vp in our age, shall not be the seconde to one of the least perfect in the Citty. But who can learne ciuility and vertue in these our dayes? our Daughters nousled in companies, whose mouthes run ouer with Whorish and filthy talke, wyth behauiour full of Ribauldry, and many fraughted wyth facts lesse honest than Speach is able to expresse. I doe not pretend heereby to depriue that sexe of honest and seemely talke, and company, and leste of exercise amonges the Noble Gentlemen of our Englyshe Soyle, ne yet of the Liberty receyued from our Auncestours, only (me thyncke) that requisite it were to contemplate the manners and inclination of wils, and refrayne those that be prone to wantonnesse, and by lyke meanes to reioyce the mindes of them that be bent to heauinesse, deuided from curtefie and Ciuility, by attendinge of whych choyse, and considering of that difference, impossible it is but vertue must shyne more bright in Noble houses than homelynesse in Cabanes of Pesauntes, and Countrey Carles: who oftentymes better obserue the Discipline of our Predecessours in education of their Chyldren, than they which presume to prayse themselues for good skil in vse and gouernment of that age, more troublesome and payneful to rule, than any other wythin the compasse of man's lyfe. Therefore the good and wise Emperour Marcus Aurelius would not haue his Daughters to be trayned vp in Courts. "For (quod he) what profit shall the Nurse receyue by learning hir mayden honesty and vertue, when our workes intice them to daliaunce and vice, apprehending the folly of those that bee amorous?" I make this discourse, not that I am so rigorous a Iudge for our maydens of England, but that I wish them so reformed, as to see and be seene should be forbidden, as assured that vertue in what place so euer she be, cannot but open things that shall fauor of hir excellency. And now to talke of an Italian Dame, who so long as hir first husband (knowing hir inclination) kept hir subiect, liued in reputation of a modest and sober wyfe. Nothing was seene in hir that could defame hir renoume. But so soone as the shadow of that free captiuity was made free by the death of hir husband, God knoweth what pageant she played, and how shee soyled both hir owne reputation, and the honour of hir second Mate, as yee shall vnderstande if with pacience yee vouchsafe to reade the discourse of thys present Hystory. Casal, (as it is not vnknowen) is a Citty of Piedmont, and subiect to the Marquize of Montferrato, where dwelled one that was very rich, although of base birth, named Giachomo Scappardone, who being growne wealthy, more by wicked art, and vsury, to mutch manifest, than by his owne diligence, toke to Wife a yong Greeke mayden, which the Marchiones of Montferrato mother of Marquize Guglielmo, had brought home wyth hir from the voyage that shee made into Grætia wyth hir husbande, when the Turkes ouerran the countrey of Macedonia, and seased vpon the Citty of Modena which is in Morea. Of that mayden Scapperdone had a Daughter indifferent fayre, and of behauiour liuely and pleasaunt, called Bianca Maria. The Father dyed wythin a while after hir birth, as one that was of good yeares, and had bin greatly turmoyled in getting of riches, whose value amounted about one Hundred Thousand Crownes. Bianca Maria arriued to the age of sixteene, or seuenteene yeares, was required of many, aswell for hir Beauty, Gentlenes, and good grace, as for her goods, and riches. In the ende she was maried to the Vicecount Hermes, the Sonne of one of the chiefest Houses in Millan, who incontinently after the mariage, conueyed hir home to hys house, leauing his Greeke mother to gouerne the vsuries gotten by hir dead husband. The Gentleman which amongs two greene, knew one that was ripe, hauing for a certayne tyme well knowen, and learned the maners of hys Wyfe, saw that it behooued hym rather to deale wyth the Bit and brydle than the spur, for that she was wanton, full of desire, and coueted nothing so mutch as fond and disordered liberty, and therefore without cruell dealing, disquiet, or trouble, hee vsed by little and little to keepe hir in, and cherished hir more than his nature willingly would suffer, of purpose to holde hir wythin the boundes of duty. And although the Millan Dames haue almost like lyberties that ours haue, yet the Lord Hermes kept hir wythin Dores, and suffred hir to frequent none other house and company, but the Lady Hippolita Sforcia, who vppon a day demaunded of him wherefore hee kept in his wyfe so short, and persuaded hym to geue her somewhat more the Brydle, bicause diuers already murmured of this order, as to strayte and Frowarde, esteeming hym eyther to be to mutch fond ouer hir, or else to Jealous. "Madame," sayde the Millanoise, "they whych at pleasure so speake of me, know not yet the nature of my Wyfe, who I had rather should be somewhat restrayned, than run at Rouers to hir dishonour, and my shame. I remember wel madame the proper saying of Paulus Emilius that notable Romane: who being demauned wherefore he had put away his Wyfe being a Gentlewoman so fayre and beautifull. 'O,' quod he and lifted vp his leg {(}whereupon was a new payre of Buskins) 'yee see this fayre Buskin, meete and seemely for this Leg to outward apparance not greeuous or noysome, but in what place it hurteth me, or where it wringeth yee doe neyther see nor yet feele.{'} So I, madame, do feele in what place my Hoase doeth hurt and wring my Legge. I know madame what it is to graunt to so wanton a dame as my Wyfe is, hir will, and how farre I ought to slip the rayne: iealous I am not vpon the fayth I beare vnto God, but I feare what may chaunce vnto me. And by my trouth, madame, I geeue her Lycence to repayre to you both Day and Nyght, at whatsoeuer hour you please, being assured of the vertuous company that haunteth your house: otherwyse my Pallace shall suffyce hir pleasure for the common ioy of vs both, and therefore I wish no more talk hereof, least too importunate suites do offend my nature, and make me thinke that to be true whych of good will I am loth to suspect, contenting my selfe with hir Chastity, for feare least to mutch liberty do corrupt hir." These words were not spoken wythout cause, for the wyse husband saw wel that sutch beasts, albeit rudely they ought not to be vsed, yet stifly to be holden short, and not suffred too mutch to wander at will. And verily his prophecy was to true for respect of that which followed: who had not bene maried full VI. yeares, but the Vicecount Hermes departed thys World, whereof she was very sory bycause she loued him derely, hauing as yet not tasted the licorous baites of sutch liberty, as afterwards she drank in gluttonous draughts, when after hir husband's obsequies, she retired to Montferrato, and then to Casal to hir Father's house, hir mother being also dead, and she a lone woman to ioy at pleasure the fruict of hir desires, bendinge hir only study to gay and trimme Apparell, and imployed the mornings with the vermilion rud to colour hir cheekes by greater curiosity than the most shamelesse Curtisan of Rome, fixing hir eyes vppon ech man, gyring, and laughing with open mouth, and pleasantly disposed to talk and reason with euery Gentleman that passed by the streate. This was the way to attayne the glorious feast of hir triumphant filthines, who wan the prise aboue the most famous women whych in hir tyme made profession of those armes, wherewith Venus once dispoyled Mars, and toke from him the strongest and best steeled armure of all his furniture. Thinck not fayre maydes, that talk and clattering with youth is of small regarde. For a Citty is halfe won when they within demaunde for parle, as loth to indure the Canon shot. So when the eare of yong Wyfe or mayde is pliant to lasciuious talk, and deliteth in wanton words, albeit hir chastity receyue no damage, yet occasion of speach is ministred to the people, and perchaunce wyth sutch disaduantage, as neuer after hir good name is recouered. Wherefore needefull it is, not only to auoyde the effect of euill, but also the least suspition: for good fame is requisite for the Woman, as honest lyfe. The great Captain Iulius Cæsar, (which first of al reduced the common wealth of Rome in fourme of monarchie) beinge once demaunded wherefore hee hadde refused hys Wyfe before it was proued that she had offended with Clodius, the night of the sacrifices done to the Goddesse Bona, answered so wysely as truely, that the house of Cæsar ought not onely to be voyde of whordome but of suspition therof. Behold therfore what I haue sayd, and yet doe say againe, that ye oughte to take greate heede to youre selues, and to laugh in tyme, not reclinyng your eares to vncomely talke, but rather to follow the nature of the Serpent, that stoppeth his eare with his tayle, to auoide the charms and sorceries of the Enchaunter. Now this Bianca Maria was sued vnto, and pursued of many at Casall that desired hir to Wyfe, and amonges the rest two did profer themselues, which were the Lord Gismondo Gonzaga, the neere kinsman of the Duke of Mantua, and the Counte of Celant, a great Baron of Sauoy, whose landes lie in the vale of Agosta. A great pastyme it was to thys fyne Gentlewoman to feede hir self wyth the Orations of those two Lordes and a ioye it was to hir, to vse her owne discourse and aunswers expressinge with right good grace sundry amorous countenances, intermingling therwithall sighes, sobbes, and alteration of cheere, that full well it might haue bene sayde, of loue trickes that shee was the only dame and mistresse. The Marchyonesse of Montferrato desirous to gratify the Lord of Mantua his sonne in law, endeuored to induce this wanton Lady to take for spouse Gismondo Gonzaga, and the sute so well proceeded, as almost the mariage had bene concluded if the Sauoy Earle had not come betwixte, and shewed forth his Noblenesse of minde, when he vnderstode how things did passe, and that another was ready to beare away the pryse, and recouer his mistresse. For that cause he came to visit the Lady, who intertayned him wel, as of custom she did al other. And for that he would not employe hys tyme in vayne, when he founde hir alone and at conuenyent leysure, began to preache vnto hir in thys wyse with sutch countenaunce, as she perceyued the Counte to be far in loue with hir.

_The Oration of the Counte of Celant to his Ladye._