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 subjects want my person, yet they shall see in thee my perfection. That nothing either may fail to satisfy thy mind, or increase thy dignities: the only care I have is to see thee well married before I die, and thou become old."

Dorastus, who from his infancy, delighted rather to die with Mars in the Field than to dally with Venus in the Chamber, fearing to displease his father, and yet not willing to be wed, made him this reverent answer:

"Sir, there is no greater bond than duty, nor no straighter law than nature: disobedience in youth is often galled with despite in age. The command of the father ought to be a constraint to the child; so parents' wills are laws, so they pass not all laws: may, it please your grace therefore to appoint whom I shall love. Rather than by denial I should be appeached of disobedience, I rest content to love, though it be the only thing I hate."

Egistus, hearing his son to fly so far from the mark, began to be somewhat choleric, and therefore made him this hasty

answer:

"What, Dorastus, canst thou not love? Cometh this cynical passion of prone desires or peevish frowardness? What, durst thou think thyself too good for all, or none good enough for thee? I tell thee, Dorastus, there is nothing sweeter than youth, nor swifter decreasing while it is increasing. Time past 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 amours. 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, Euphrania, 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, Dorastus, take heed, the tree Alpya wasteth not with fire, but withereth with the dew: that which love nourisheth not, perisheth with hate. If thou like Euphrania, thou breedest my content, and in loving her thou shalt have my 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 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 used. 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 Actæon 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 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 advantage, 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 these were but passionate tones that might be thrust out at pleasure, to avoid the syren 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 each limb so perfectly framed, began greatly to praise his perfection, commending him so long, till she found herself faulty, and perceived 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 hi elf, and what a grief it would be to his father; blaming For 'ne and

accusing his own folly, that should be so fond as but once to cast a glance at such a country slut. As thus he was raging against himself, Love, fearing if she dallied long to lose her champion, stepped 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,1 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 high desires, than live in base thoughts. Yea, but beauty must be obeyed, because it is beauty, yet framed of the gods to feed the eye, not to fetter the heart. Ah, but he that striveth against Love, shooteth with them of Scyrum against the wind, and with the cockatrice pecketh against the steel. I will therefore obey, because I must obey. Fawnia, yea Fawnia shall be my fortune, in spite of fortune. The gods above disdain not to love women beneath. Phoebus liked Sybilla, Jupiter Io, and why not I then Fawnia? one something inferior to these in birth, but far superior to them in beauty, born to be a shepherd, but worthy to be a goddess. Ah, Dorastus, wilt thou so forget thyself as to suffer affection to suppress wisdom, and love to violate thine honour? How sour will thy choice be to thy father, sorrowful to thy subjects, to thy friends a grief, most gladsome to thy foes! Subdue, then, thy affections, and cease to love her whom thou couldst not love, unless blinded with too much love. Tush, I talk to the wind, and in seeking to prevent the causes, I further the effects. I will yet praise Fawnia; honour, yea, and love Fawnia, and at this day follow content, not counsel. Do, Dorastus, thou canst but repent!" And with that his page came into the chamber, whereupon he ceased from his complaints, hoping that time would wear out that which fortune had wrought. As thus he was pained, so poor Fawnia was diversely perplexed: for the next morning, getting up very early, she went to her sheep, thinking with hard labours to pass away her new conceived amours, beginning very busily to drive them to the field, and then to shift the folds. At last, wearied with toil, she sat her down, where, poor soul, she was more tried with fond affections: for love began to assault her, insomuch that as she sat upon the side of a hill, she began to accuse her own folly in these terms:

"Unfortunate Fawnia, and therefore unfortunate because, Fawnia, thy shepherd's hook showeth thy poor state, thy proud desires an aspiring mind: the one declareth thy want, the other thy pride. No bastard hawk must soar so high as the hobby, no fowl gaze against the sun but the eagle;

1 Maugre his face, though his face was set against it. Old French "maugré;" Latin "male gratum ",

2 Hobby, French "hobereau," Falco subbuteo. The hobby in "hobby. horse" and the phrase "riding one's hobby" are related to a Danish word meaning a mare.

actions wrought against nature reap despite, and thoughts above fortune disdain. Fawnia, thou art a shepherd, daughter to poor Porrus: if thou rest content with this, thou art like to stand, if thou climb thou art sure to fall. The herb anita growing higher than six inches becometh a weed. Nilus flowing more than twelve cubits procureth a dearth. affections that pass measure, are cut short by time or fortune: suppress 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,

Daring

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 crave counsel in this case, nor fear of his father's displeasure reveal it to any secret friend; but he was fain to make a secretary of himself, and to participate his thoughts with his own troubled mind. Lingering thus awhile in doubtful suspense, at last stealing secretly from the court without either men or page, he went to see if he could espy Fawnia walking abroad in the field; but as one having a great deal more skill to retrieve the partridge with his spaniels than to hunt after such a strange prey, he sought, but was little the better: which cross luck drove him into a great choler, that he began to accuse Love and Fortune. But as he was ready to retire, he saw Fawnia sitting all alone under the side of a hill, making a garland of such homely flowers as the fields did afford. This sight so revived his spirits that he drew nigh, with more judgment to take a view of her singular perfection, which he found to be such as in that country attire she stained all the courtly dames of Sicilia. While thus he stood gazing with piercing looks on her surpassing beauty, Fawnia cast her eyes aside, and spied Dorastus, which sudden sight made the poor girl to blush, and to dye her crystal cheeks with a vermilion red; which gave her such a grace, as she seemed far more beautiful. And with that she rose up, saluting the prince with such modest curtseys, as he wondered how a country maid could afford such courtly behaviour. Dorastus, repaying her curtsey with a smiling countenance, began to parley with her in 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, show 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 toys. Our toil is in shifting the folds, and looking to the lambs, easy labours: oft singing and telling tales, homely pleasures; our greatest wealth not to covet, our honour not to climb, our quiet not to care. Envy looketh not so low as shepherds: shepherds gaze not so high as ambition. We are rich in that we are poor with content, and proud only in this, that we have no cause to be proud."

This witty answer of Fawnia so inflamed Dorastus' fancy, as he commended himself for making so good a choice, thinking, if her birth were answerable to her wit and beauty, that she were a fit mate for the most famous prince in the world. He therefore began to sift her more narrowly in this

manner:

"Fawnia, I see thou art content with country labours, because thou knowest not courtly pleasures: I commend thy wit, and pity thy want: but wilt thou leave thy father's cottage, and serve a courtly mistress ?"

"Sir," quoth she, "beggars ought not to strive against fortune, nor to gaze after honour, lest either their fall be greater, or they become blind. I am born to toil for the court, not in the court, my nature unfit for their nurture: better live then in mean degree, than in high disdain."

"Well said, Fawnia," quoth Dorastus, "I guess at thy thoughts; thou art in love with some country shepherd." "No, sir," quoth she, "shepherds cannot love, that are so simple, and maids may not love that are so young."

"Nay, therefore," quoth Dorastus, "maids must love, because they are young, for Cupid is a child, and Venus, though old, is painted with fresh colours."

"I grant," quoth she, "age may be painted with new shadows, and youth may have imperfect affections; but what art concealeth in one, ignorance revealeth in the other." Dorastus, seeing Fawnia held him so hard, thought it was vain so long to beat about the bush: therefore he thought to have given her a fresh charge; but he was prevented by certain of his men, who, missing their master, came posting to seek him, seeing that he was gone forth all alone; yet before they drew so nigh that they might hear their talk, he used these speeches:

"Why, Fawnia, perhaps I love thee, and then thou must needs yield, for thou knowest I can command and constrain." "Truth, sir," quoth she, "but not to love; for constrained love is force, not love and know this, sir, mine honesty is such, as I had rather die than be a concubine even to a king, and my birth is so base as I am unfit to be a wife to a poor farmer." "Why, then," quoth he, "thou canst not love Dorastus." "Yes," said Fawnia, “when Dorastus becomes a shepherd." And with that the presence of his men broke off their parley, so that he went with them to the palace, and left Fawnia sitting still on the hillside, 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 but jest: the lion never preyed on the mouse, nor falcons stoop not to dead stales.1 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 dumps; insomuch 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 inconvenience. 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 desires caused him to find new devices, for he presently made himself a shepherd's coat, that he might 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 opportunity, 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 become 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 he reacheth at dignity. And yet,

3

1 Stales, decoy birds, from Old French "estaler," to expose in a fixed place. Allied to German "stellen," to place, and English "stall.".

2 This was once looked upon as an aid to the diagnosis of disease not less sure than the feeling of the pulse, and the belief enabled many practitioners to do a large business with patients whom they

never saw.

3 Anciently is perhaps used here by a transference of thought to "ancient" from "antique," the word "antic" being derived from the grotesqueness of ancient architectural figures.

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."

Devising thus with himself, he drew nigh to the place where Fawnia was keeping her sheep, who casting her eye aside, and seeing such a mannerly shepherd, perfectly limned, and coming with so good a pace, she began half to forget Dorastus, and to favour this pretty shepherd, whom she thought she might both love and obtain: but as she was in these thoughts, she perceived then, that it was the young prince Dorastus, wherefore she rose up and reverently saluted him. Dorastus, taking her by the hand, repaid her curtsey with a sweet kiss, and praying her to sit down by him, he began thus to lay the battery:

"If thou marvel, Fawnia, at my strange attire, thou wouldst more muse at my unaccustomed thoughts: the one disgraceth but my outward shape, the other disturbeth my inward senses. I love Fawnia, and therefore what love liketh I cannot mislike. Fawnia, thou hast promised to love, and I hope thou wilt perform no less: I have fulfilled thy request, and now thou canst but grant my desire. Thou wert content to love Dorastus when he ceased to be a prince and become a shepherd, and see I have made the change, and therefore not to miss of my choice."

Truth," quoth Fawnia; "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 Dorastus 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."

Fawnia, hearing this solemn protestation of Dorastus, 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 Dorastus (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 plight their troth to each 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 provide a great mass of money, and many rich and costly jewels, for the easier carriage, and then to transport themselves 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 despatch his affairs with as great haste as either time or opportunity 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, showing by his merry countenance, that either the state of his body was amended, or 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 shedding forth tears, he broke the matter to her in these terms:

"I am afraid, wife, that my daughter Fawnia hath made herself 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, nowadays 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 say; 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 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 den." "Tush, wife," quoth he, "thou speakest like a fool; if the king should know, his fury would be such as no doubt we should both lose our goods and lives. Necessity, therefore, hath no law, and I will prevent this mischief with a new device that is come into my head, which shall neither offend the king, nor displease Dorastus. 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 enclosed this treasure. By this means I hope the king will take Fawnia into his service, and we, whatsoever 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 provided for Fawnia, and, because he could not bring the matter to pass without the help and advice of some one, he made an old servant of his, called Capnio, who had served him from 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 loves, till their man Capnio should come. 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 spunged 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 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 show him a little false play) prevented 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 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 Dorastus dealt hardly with him; for he had but one daughter, who was a little beautiful, and that his neighbours told him the young prince had allured her to folly: he went, therefore, now to complain to the king how greatly he was abused.

Capnio, who straightway smelt the whole matter, began to soothe him in his talk, and said that Dorastus dealt not like a prince to spoil any poor man's daughter in that sort; he, therefore, would do the best for him he could, because he knew he was an honest man. "But," quoth Capnio, "you lose your labour in going to the palace, for the king means this day to take the air of the sea, and to go aboard of a ship that lies in the haven. I am going before, you see, to provide all things in readiness, and if you will follow my counsel, turn back with me to the haven, where I will set you in such a fit place as you may speak to the king at your pleasure." Porrus, giving credit to Capnio's smooth tale, gave him a thousand thanks for his friendly advice, and went with him to the haven, making all the way his complaints of Dorastus, yet concealing secretly the chain and the jewels. As soon as they were come to the sea-side, the mariners, seeing Capnio, came a-land with their cock-boat, who, still dissembling the matter, demanded of Porrus if he would go and see the ship, who, unwilling and fearing the worst, because he was not well acquainted with Capnio, made his excuse that he could not brook the sea, therefore would not trouble him.

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 Capnio 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 half astonished to see the old shepherd, marvelling greatly what wind had brought him thither, till Capnio told them 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 that he was aboard, for the avoiding of further danger, it were best to carry him into Italy.

Dorastus praised greatly his man's device, and allowed of his counsel; but Fawnia, who still feared Porrus, as her father, began to blush for shame, that by her means he should either incur danger or displeasure.

The old shepherd hearing this hard sentence, that he should on such a sudden be carried from his wife, his country, and kinsfolk, into a foreign land amongst strangers, began with bitter tears to make his complaint, and on his knees to entreat Dorastus that, pardoning his unadvised folly, he would give him leave to go home, swearing that he would keep all things as secret as they could wish. But these protestations could not prevail, although Fawnia entreated Dorastus very earnestly; but the mariners, hoisting their main sails, weighed anchors, and sailed into the deep, where we leave them to the favour of the wind and seas, and return to Egistus.

Who, having appointed this day to hunt in one of his