to see what he was, that being a Venetian, committed the murder; and there also was PHILOMELA and the sailor's wife.

At last the Count PHILIPPO was brought forth, whom, when the Duke of Milan saw, jogging LUTESIO with his hand, he whispered and said, "See, LUTESIO, where man favours, yet God doth in extremity revenge; now shall we see the fall of our enemy, yet not touched with his blood:" whispering thus amongst themselves.

At last the Duke of Palermo began to examine him if he were he that slew his son; he answered, that he was the man, and would with his blood answer it. "What moved you," says the Duke, “to do the murder?" "An old grudge," quoth he, " that hath been between him and me ever since he was in Venice; and for that cause revenge was so restless in my mind that I am come from thence purposely to act this tragedy, and am not sorry that I have contented my thoughts with his blood."

At this his manifest confession, the Duke, full of wrath, arose and said, it was bootless further to impannel any jury, and therefore upon his words he would pronounce sentence against him. Then PHILOMELA calling to the Duke, and desiring she might be heard, began thus to plead.

"O, mighty Duke! stay the censure, lest thy verdict wrong the innocent, and thou condemn an Earl through his own despairing evidence. I see, and with trembling I feel, that a guilty conscience is a thousand witnesses: that as it is impossible to cover the light of the sun with a curtain, so the remorse of murder cannot be concealed in the closet of the most secret conspirator.

"For, standing by, and hearing thee ready to pronounce sentence against the innocent, I, even I, that committed the deed, though to the exigent of mine own death, could not but burst forth into these exclamations to save the sackless. Know, therefore, that he which standeth here before the judgment-seat is an Earl, though banished; his name is Count PHILIPPO MEDICI, my husband, and

K

once famous in Italy, though here he be blemished by fortune." At this all the company looked upon her.

PHILIPPO, as a man amazed, stood staring on her face, the tears trickling down his cheeks, to see the kindness of his wife, whom so deeply he had injured; and the Duke of Milan her father, with LUTESIO, were in as great a wonder.

Last, she prosecuted her purpose thus: "It were too long, worthy Sicilians, to rehearse the wrongs this PHILIPPO hath used against me, distressed Countess, through his extreme jealousy; only let this briefly suffice, he suborned his slaves to swear I was seen in the act of adultery; they were believed, I divorced and banished, and here ever since I have lived in contented patience. But since my exile, time that is the revealer of truth, hath made the slaves bewray the effect of the matter, so that this present Earl is found guilty, my honour saved, he banished, and now extremely distressed.

"Consider then, Sicilians, if this Count, my husband, hath offered me such wrong, what reason had I to plead for his life, were it not the guilt of mine own conscience forceth me to save the innocent, who, in a despairing humour, weary of his life, confesseth himself author of that murder which these hands did execute.

"I am the woman, the infortunate Countess, Sicilians, who, suborned by a Sicilian gentleman, whom by no tortures I will name, first practised by witchcraft ARNOLDO's death; but seeing that would not prevail, I sought to meet him alone, which I did yesterday by the grove, and there offering him an humble supplication, and he stooping to take it courteously, I stabbed him, and after mangled him in that sort you found him.

"This is truth, this is my conscience, and this I am by God enforced to confess. Then, worthy Duke, save the innocent Earl, and pronounce sentence against me the offender.

"I speak not this in that I love the Count, but that I am forced unto it by the remorse of mine own conscience."

Here she ended, and all they stood amazed; and PHILIPPO began again to reply against her, that she did it to save him: but in vain were his words, for she used such probable reasons against herself, that the Duke was ready to pronounce sentence against her, and the Duke her father at the point to bewray himself, had it not been that ARNOLDO STROZZO, the Duke's son, coming home, and meeting certain plain countrymen, heard this news, how the Dukę was sitting in judgment against one that had murdered his son; which news, as it drove him into a wonder, so it made him haste speedily to the place, to know the effect of the matter: and he came thither just at the beginning of PHILOMELA's oration.

Seeing, therefore, two pleading thus for death, he himself being alive, and his father ready to condemn the innocent, he commanded the company to give way, came and shewed himself, and said, May it please your grace, I am here, whom these confess they have slain."

66

At this the Duke started up, and all the standers by were in a maze. At last, to drive them out of their dumps, he told them that he thought, that the man that was murdered, and taken for him, was a slave, with whom the day before he had changed apparel.

The Duke, for joy to see his son, was a great while mute: at last he began to examine the matter, why these two did plead themselves guilty? PHILIPPO answered, for despair, as weary of his life. PHILOMELA said, for the safety of her husband, choosing rather to die than he any ways should suffer prejudice,

The Sicilians at this, looking PHILOMELA in the face, shouted at her wondrous virtues, and PHILIPPO, in a swoon between grief and joy, was carried away half dead to his lodging, where he had not lain two hours, but in an extasy he ended his life. The Duke of Milan discovered himself, who by the Duke of Palermo was highly entertained.

But PHILOMELA hearing of the death of her husband, fell into extreme passions; and although ARNOLDO STROZZo desired her in marriage, yet she returned home to Venice, and there lived the desolate widow of PHILIPPO MEDICI all her life; which constant chastity made her so famous, that in her life she was honoured as the paragon of virtue, and after her death solemnly, and with wonderful honour, intombed in Saint Mark's church, and her fame holden canonized until this day in Venice.

FINIS.

From the Private Press of

LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN.
Printed by T. DAVISON, Whitefriars, London.

WORKS

PRINTED AT THE PRIVATE PRESS OF LEE PRIORY,
NEAR CANTERBURY.

1. The Sylvan Wanderer. Part I. 8vo. 100 copies.

2. Greene's Groatsworth of Wit, 4to. 61 copies.

3. Excerpta Tudoriana. No. I. 8vo. 100 copies.

4. Raleigh's Poems, 4to. 100 copies.

5. Life of Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, written by herself, 8vo. 100 copies.

IN THE PRESS AT LEE PRIORY.

6. N. Breton's Longing, 4to.

7. Davison's Rhapsody, 8vo.

8. Lord Brook's Life of Sir Philip Sydney, 8vo. 9. Select Poems, by Sir Egerton Brydges, 4to.