Now was not any body neere, with coole water or any other remedy to helpe the recovery of her lost powers; wherefore her spirits might the more freely wander at their owne pleasure: but after they were returned backe againe, and had won their wonted offices in her body, drowned in teares, and wringing her hands, she did nothing but call for her children and husband, straying all about in hope to finde them, seeking in caves, dens, and every where else, that presented the verie least glimpse of comfort. But when she saw all her paines sort to no purpose, and darke night drawing swiftly on, hope and dismay raising infinite perturbations, made her yet to be somewhat respective of her selfe, and therefore departing from the sea-shore, she returned to the solitary place, where she used to sigh and mourne alone by her selfe.
The night being over-past with infinite feares and afrights, and bright day saluting the world againe, with the expence of nine houres and more, she fell to her former fruitlesse travailes. Being somewhat sharply bitten with hunger, because the former day and night shee had not tasted any foode: shee made therefore a benefit of necessity, and fed on the greene hearbes so well as she could, not without any piercing afflictions, what should become of her in this extraordinary misery. As shee walked in these pensive meditations, she saw a Goate enter into a Cave, and (within a while after) come forth againe, wandring along thorow the woods. Whereupon she stayed, and entred where she saw the beast issue foorth, where she found two young Kids, yeaned (as it seemed) the selfesame day, which sight was very pleasing to her, and nothing in that distresse could more content her.
As yet, she had milke freshly running in both her brests, by reason of her so late delivery in child bed; wherefore shee lay downe unto the two yong Kids, and taking them tenderly in her armes, suffered each of them to sucke a teate, whereof they made not any refusall, but tooke them as lovingly as their dammes, and from that time forward, they made no distinguishing betweene their damme and her. Thus this unfortunate Lady, having found some company in this solitary desart, fed on herbes and roots, drinking faire running water, and weeping silently to her selfe, so often as she remembred her husband, children, and former dayes past in much better manner. Heere she resolved now to live and dye, being at last deprived both of the damme and yonger Kids also, by theyr wandering further into the neere adjoyning Woods, according to their naturall inclinations; whereby the poore distressed Ladie became more savage and wilde in her daily conditions, then otherwise shee would have bene.
After many monthes were over-passed, at the very same place where she tooke landing; by chance, there arrived another small vessell of certaine Pisans, which remained there divers daies. In this Barke was a Gentleman, named Conrado de Marchesi Malespini, with his holy and vertuous wife, who were returned backe from a Pilgrimage, having visited all the sanctified places that then were in the kingdome of Apulia, and now were bound homeward to their owne abiding. This Gentleman, for the expelling of melancholly perturbations, one especiall day amongst other, with his wife, servants, and wainting hounds, wandred up into the Iland not far from the place of Madam Beritolaes desert dwelling. The hounds questing after game, at last happened on the two Kids where they were feeding, and (by this time) had attained to indifferent growth; and finding themselves thus pursued by the hounds, fled to no other part of the wood, then to the cave where Beritola remained, and seeming as if they sought to be rescued only by her, she sodainly caught up a staffe, and forced the hounds thence to flight.
By this time, Conrado and his wife, who had followed closely after the hounds, was come thither, and seeing what had hapned, looking on the Lady, who was become blacke, swarthy, meager, and hairy, they wondered not a little at her, and she a great deale more at them. When (uppon her request) Conrado had checkt backe his hounds, they prevailed so much by earnest intreaties, to know what she was, and the reason of her living there; that she intirely related her quality, unfortunate accidents, and strange determination for living there. Which when the Gentleman had heard, who very well knew her husband, compassion forced teares from his eyes, and earnestly he laboured by kinde perswasions, to alter so cruell a deliberation; making an honourable offer, for conducting her home to his owne dwelling, where shee should remaine with him in noble respect, as if she were his owne sister, without parting from him, till Fortune should smile as fairely on her, as ever she had done before.
When these gentle offers could not prevaile with her, the Gentleman left his wife in her company, saying, that he would go fetch some foode for her; and because her garments were all rent and torne, hee would bring her other of his wives, not doubting but to winne her thence with them. His wife abode there with Beritola, verie much bemoaning her great disasters: and when both viands and garments were brought, by extremitie of intercession, they caused her to put them on, and also to feede with them, albeit shee protested, that shee would not part thence into any place, where any knowledge should be taken of her. In the end, they perswaded her to go w-th them into Lunigiana, carrying also with her the two yong Goats and their damme, which were then in the cave altogether, prettily playing before Beritola, to the great admiration of Conrado and his wife, as also the servants attending on them.
When the windes and weather grew favourable for them, Madame Beritola went aboord with Conrado and his Wife, being followed by the two young Goates and their Damme; and because her name should bee knowne to none but Conrado, and his wife onely, shee would be stiled no otherwise but the Goatherdesse. Merrily, yet gently blew the gale, which brought them to enter the River of Maira, where going on shore, and into their owne Castle, Beritola kept company with the wife of Conrado, but in a mourning habite; and a waiting Gentlewoman of theirs, honest, humble, and very dutifull, the Goates alwayes familiarly keeping them company.
Returne wee now to the Pyrates, which at Ponzo seized on the small Barke wherein Madame Beritola was brought thither, and carried thence away, without any sight or knowledge of her. With such other spoyles as they had taken, they shaped their course for Geneway, and there (by consent of the Patrones of the Galley) made a division of their booties. It came to passe, that (among other things) the Nurse that attended on Beritola, and the two Children with her, fell to the share of one Messer Gastarino d’Oria, who sent them together to his owne House, there to be employed in service as Servants. The Nurse weeping beyond measure for the losse of her Ladie, and bemoaning her owne miserable Fortune, whereinto shee was now fallen with the two young Laddes; after long lamenting, which shee found utterly fruitlesse and to none effect, though she was used as a servant with them, and being but a very poore woman, yet was shee wise and discreetly advised. Wherefore, comforting both her selfe and them so well as she could, and considering the depth of their disaster, shee conceited thus, that if the Children should be knowne, it might redound to their greater danger, and shee be no way advantaged thereby.
Hereupon, hoping that Fortune (earely or late) would alter her stearne malice, and that they might (if they lived) regaine once more their former condition, shee would not disclose them to any one whatsoever, till shee should see the time aptly disposed for it. Being thus determined, to all such as questioned her concerning them, she answered that they were her owne Children, naming the eldest not Geoffrey, but Jehannot de Procida. As for the yongest, shee cared not greatly for changing his name, and therefore wisely informed Geoffrey, upon what reason shee had altered his name, and what danger he might fall into, if he should otherwise be discovered; being not satisfied with thus telling him once, but remembring him thereof verie often, which the gentle youth (being so well instructed by the wise and carefull Nurse) did very warily observe.
The two young Laddes, verie poorely garmented, but much worse hosed and shodde, continued thus in the house of Gasparino, where both they and the Nurse were long time employed about verie base and drudging Offices, which yet they endured with admirable patience. But Jehannot, aged already about sixteene yeeres, having a loftier spirit, then belonged to a slavish servant, despising the basenesse of his servile condition; departed from the drudgery of Messer Gasparino, and going aboord the Gallies which were bound for Alexandria, fortuned into many places, yet none of them affoording him any advancement. In the end, about three or foure yeeres after his departure from Gasparino, being now a brave yong man, and of very goodly forme: he understood, that his father (whom he supposed to be dead) was as yet living, but in captivity, and prisoner to King Charles. Wherefore, despairing of
