Which neither sail nor ruther had, Nor company therein, And to seas fury they commit It for to sink or swim. With trees branches an arbor made, Therein a purse of gold, And with rich jewels from the Queen, This babe they there uproll'd. A storm arose, this little boat A shepherd, that was keeping sheep, He looks upon the childs beautie, He surely thought it was a god, And down he kneels to pray : But when the child began to cry, He bore it thence away. The jewels and the gold he takes, So that her fame came unto court, Dorastus was the prince's name. Most earnestly did sue for love, With modest meekness she refus'd, At last the prince his father told, This to prevent, the prince provides And with one servant and his love, To sea they go, and they arrive Which doth in judgment stand. Apollo's answer to the King, And all his parliament; Which to this purpose spake, was read, Which made the King lament. Suspicion is no proof at all, Jealousie judgeth wrong: Egestus and the Queen are chaste, True Franion did no wrong. Treacherously Pandosto's guiltless babe, Is sent unto the sea, And if she be not found again, He without child shall die. With tears the King seeks to comfort In his armes ends her life. For brevitie I do omit, To show how all did mourn : To Dorastus and Faunia, That beauteous couple privately, Did pass their time away; The King took of her beauty heed, For they near court did stay. 224 The King with fair words, and with threats, In prison all the King them cast, The shepherd's first examined, Whom of that knight was come : He's King Egestus son. From prison then the King him brought, Fair Faunia is now brought forth, This spake the King 'twixt ire and lust, Which, fraught with fear of death, did say, I found her in a little boat, Her cloaths I'le let you see; And chain that was about her neck, Her chains and bracelets he did show, Also the mantle with his armes, Which when the King did all behold, He presently gave them his crown, And he to cloister past. Egestus to their wedding came, And reconciled was Unto Pandosto, who to him Did cry full oft, alace! For my sweet Queen Bellaria fair, And for this sinful lust, To thee, my friend and neighbour true, And for my sinful life, To monastrie I now will go, Till death shall end my strife. VOL. I. |