and make you good cheere beside.
Now was Andrea so confounded this extremity of courtesie, that he knew not what to say, but onely thus replied. I love you as a Sister ought to be loved, and accept of your exceeding kindnesse: but if I returne not to my lodging, I shall wrong mine Host and his guests too much, because they will not sup untill I come. For that (quoth shee) we have a present remedy, one of my servants shall goe and give warning, whereby they shall not tarry your comming. Albeit, you might doe me a great kindnesse, to send for your friends to sup with us here, where I assure ye, they shall finde that your Sister (for your sake) will bid them welcome, and after supper, you may all walke together to your Inne. Andrea answered, that he had no such friends there, as should be so burthenous to her: but seeing she urged him so farre, he would stay to sup with her, and referred himselfe solely to her disposition.
Ceremonious shew was made, of sending a servant to the Inne, for not expecting Andreas presence at Supper, though no such matter was performed; but, after divers other discoursings, the table being covered, and variety of costly viands placed thereon, downe they sate to feeding, with plenty of curious Wines liberally walking about, so that it was darke night before they arose from the table. Andrea then offring to take his leave, she would (by no meanes) suffer it, but tolde him, that Naples was a Citie of such strict Lawes and Ordinances, as admitted no night-walkers, although they were Natives, much lesse strangers, but punnished them with great severity. And therefore, as she had formerly sent word to his Inne, that they should not expect his comming to supper, the like had she done concerning his bed, intending to give her Brother Andrea one nights lodging, which as easily she could affoord him, as shee had done a Supper. All which this new-caught Woodcocke verily crediting, and that he was in company of his owne Sister Fiordeliza (for so did she cunningly stile her selfe, and in which beleefe he was meerely deluded) he accepted the more gladly her gentle offer, and concluded to stay there all that night.
After supper, their conference lasted very long, purposely dilated out in length, that a great part of the night might therein be wasted: when, leaving Andrea to his Chamber, and a Lad to attend, that he should lacke nothing; she with her women went to their lodgings, and thus our Brother and supposed Sister were parted. The season then being somewhat hot and soultry, Andrea put off his hose and doublet, and being in his shirt alone, layed them underneath the beds boulster, as seeming carefull of his money. But finding a provocation to the house of Office, he demanded of the Lad, where hee might find it; who shewed him a little doore in a corner of the Chamber, appointing him to enter there. Safely enough he went in, but chanced to tread upon a board, which was fastened at neither, ende to the joynts whereon it lay, being a pit-fall made of purpose, to entrap any such coxcombe, as would be trained to so base a place of lodging, so that both he and the board fell downe together into the draught; yet such being his good fortune, to receive no harme in the fall (although it was of extraordinary height) onely the filth of the place, (it being over full) had fowly myred him.
Now for your better understanding the quality of the place, and what ensued thereupon, it is not unnecessary to describe it, according to a common use, observed in those parts. There was a narrow passage or entrie, as often we see reserved betweene two houses, for eithers benefit to such a needfull place; and boards loosely lay upon the joynts, which such as were acquainted withall, could easily avoide any perille in passing to or from the stoole. But our so newly created Brother, not dreaming to find a Queane to his Sister, receiving so foule a fall into the vault, and knowing not how to helpe himselfe, being sorrowfull beyond measure; cryed out to the boy for light and aide, who intended not to give him any. For the crafty wag, (a meete attendant for so honest a Mistresse) no sooner heard him to be fallen, but presently he ran to enforme her thereof, and shee as speedily returned to the Chamber, where finding his cloathes under the beds head, shee needed no instruction for search of his pockets. But having found the gold, which Andrea indiscreetely carried alwayes about him, as thinking it could no where else be so safe: This was all shee aymed at, and for which shee had ensnared him, faigning her selfe to be of Palermo, and Daughter to Piero of Perouse, so that not regarding him any longer, but making fast the house of Office doore, there she left him in that miserable taking. Poore Andrea perceiving, that his calles could get no answere from the Lad; cryed out louder, but all to no purpose: when seeing into his owne simplicity, and understanding his error, though somewhat too late, hee made such meanes constrainedly, that he got over a wall, which severed that foule sinke from the Worlds eye; and being in the open streete, went to the doore of the House, which then he knew too well to his cost, making loud exclaimes with rapping and knocking, but all as fruitelesse as before. Sorrowing exceedingly, and manifestly beholding his misfortune; Alas (quoth he) how soone have I lost a Sister, and five hundred Crownes besides? With many other words, loud calles, and beatings uppon the doore without intermission, the neighbours finding themselves disturbed, and unable to endure any such ceaselesse vexation, rose from their beddes, and called to him, desiring him to be gone, and let them rest. A Maide also of the same house, looking forth at the window, and seeming as newly raised from sleepe, called to him, saying; What noyse is that beneath? Why Virgin (answered Andrea) know you not me? I am Andrea de Piero, Brother to your Mistresse Fiordeliza. Thou art a drunken knave replyed the Maide, more full of drinke then wit: goe sleepe, goe sleepe, and come againe to morrow: for I know no Andrea de Piero, neither hath my Mistresse any such Brother. Get thee gone go ie good man, and suffer us to sleepe I prythee. How now (quoth Andrea) doest thou not understand what I say? Thou knowest that I supt with thy Mistresse this night; but if our Sicilian kindred be so soone forgot, I prythee give mee my Cloathes which I left in my Chamber, and then verie gladly will I get mee gone. Hereat the Maide laughing out aloude, saide; Surely the man is mad, or walketh the streetes in a dreame: and so clasping fast the Window, away she went and left him. Now could Andrea assure himselfe, that his Golde and cloathes were past recovery, which mooving him to the mor impatience, his former intercessions became converted into furie, and what hee could not compasse by faire intreats, he intended to winne by outrage and violence: so that taking up a great stone in his hand, hee layed upon the doore verie powerfull strokes. The neighbors hearing this mollestation still, admitting them not the least respite of rest, reputed him for a troublesome fellow, and that he used those counterfet words, onely to disturbe the Mistresse of the house, and all that dwelled neere about her; looking againe out at their windowes, they altogether beganne to rate and reprove him, even like so many bawling Curres, barking at a strange dog passing through the street. This is shamefull villany (quoth one) and not to be suffered, that honest women should thus be molested in their houses, with foolish idle words, and at such an unseasonable time of the night. For Gods sake (good man) be gone, and let us sleepe; if thou have any thing to say to the Gentlewoman of the house, come tomorrow in the daytime, and no doubt but she will make thee sufficient answer.
Andrea, being some what pacified with these speeches, a shagge-hayr’d swash-buckler, a grim visagde Ruffian (as sildome bawdy houses are without such swaggering Champions) not seene or heard by Andrea, all the while of his being in the house; rapping out two or three terrible Oathes, opening a Casement, and with a stearne dreadfull voyce, demanded, who durst keepe that noyse beneath? Andrea fearefully looking up, and (by a little glimmering of the Moone) seeing such a rough fellow, with a blacke beard, strowting like the quilles of a Porcupine, and patches on his face, for hurts received in no honest quarrels, yawning also and stretching, as angry to have his sleepe disturbed: trembling and quaking, answered; I am the Gentlewomans brother of the house. The Ruffian interrupting him, and speaking more fiercely then before; sealing his words with horrible Oathes, said. Sirra, Rascall, I know not of whence, or what thou art; but if I come downe to thee, I will so bumbast thy prating Coxecombe, as thou wast never so beaten in all thy life, like a drunken slave and beast as thou art, that all this night wilt not let us sleepe. And so hee clapt to the window againe.
The Neighbours well acquainted with this Ruffians rude conditions, speaking in gentle manner to Andrea, said. Shift for thy selfe (good man) in time, and tarrie not for his comming downe to thee, except thou art weary of thy life: Be gone therefore, and say thou hast a friendly warning. These words dismaying Andrea, but much more the sterne oathes and ougly sight of the Ruffian, incited also by the Neighbours counsell, whom he imagined to advise him in charitable manner: it caused him to depart thence, taking the way home-ward to his Inne, in no mean affliction and torment of minde, for the monstrous abuse offered him, and losse of his money. Well he remembred the passages, whereby the day before