When night was come the Theeves awaked and rose up, and when they had
buckled on their weapons, and disguised their faces with visards, they
departed. And yet for all the great sleep that came upon me, I could in
no wise leave eating: and whereas when I was a man I could be contented
with one or two loaves at the most, now my huts were so greedy that
three panniers full would scantly serve me, and while I considered
these things the morning came, and being led to a river,
notwithstanding my Assie shamefastnesse I quencht my thirst. And
suddenly after, the Theeves returned home carefull and heavy, bringing
no burthens with them, no not so much as traffe or baggage, save only a
maiden, that seemed by her habit to be some gentlewoman borne, and the
daughter of some worthy matron of that country, who was so fair and
beautiful, that though I were an Asse, yet I had a great affection for
her. The virgin lamented and tare her hair, and rent her garments, for
the great sorrow she was in; but the theeves brought her within the
cave, and assisted her to comfort in this sort, Weep not fair
gentlewoman we pray you, for be you assured we wil do no outrage or
violence to your person: but take patience a while for our profit, for
necessity and poore estate hath compelled us to do this enterprise: we
warrant you that your parents, although they bee covetous, will be
contented to give us a great quantity of mony to redeeme and ransome
you from our hands.
With such and like flattering words they endeavoured to appease the
gentlewoman, howbeit shee would in no case be comforted, but put her
head betwixt her knees, and cried pittiously. Then they called the old
woman, and commaunded her to sit by the maiden, and pacify her dolor as
much as shee might. And they departed away to rob, as they were
accustomed to doe, but the virgin would not asswage her griefes, nor
mitigate her sorrow by any entreaty of the old woman, but howled and
sobbed in such sort, that she made me poore Asse likewise to weepe, and
thus she said, Alas can I poore wench live any longer, that am come of
so good a house, forsaken of my parents, friends, and family, made a
rapine and prey, closed servilely in this stony prison, deprived of all
pleasure, wherein I have been brought up, thrown in danger, ready to be
rent in pieces among so many sturdy theeves and dreadful robbers, can I
(I say) cease from weeping, and live any longer? Thus she cried and
lamented, and after she had wearied herself with sorrow and blubbered
her face with teares, she closed the windowes of her hollow eyes, and
laid her downe to sleepe. And after that she had slept, she rose again
like a furious and mad woman, and beat her breast and comely face more
that she did before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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