ΗΠΑΡ­ΘΕΝΟΣ

By Iohn Cousturier M.D.C.XXX.III.

P. van Langeren fecit.

PARTHENEIA SACRA. OR THE MYSTERIOVS AND DELICIOVS GARDEN OF THE SACRED PARTHENES; Symbolically set forth and enriched With PIOVS DEVISES AND EMBLEMES for the entertainement of DEVOVT SOVLES; Contriued AL TO THE HONOVR of the Incomparable Virgin MARIE Mother of GOD; For the pleasure and deuotion especially of the PARTHENIAN SODALITIE of her Immaculate CONCEPTION.

By H. A.

Printed by IOHN COVSTVRIER. M.DC.XXXIII.

THE ORDER OF THE SYMBOLS contained in this GARDEN.

  • 1. THE GARDEN.
  • 2. THE ROSE.
  • 3. THE LILLIE.
  • 4. THE VIOLET.
  • 5. THE HELIOTROPION.
  • 6. THE DEAW.
  • 7. THE BEE.
  • 8. THE HEAVENS.
  • 9. THE IRIS.
  • 10. THE MOONE.
  • 11. THE STARRE.
  • 12. THE OLIVE.
  • 13. THE NIGHTINGAL.
  • 14. THE PALME.
  • 15. THE HOVSE.
  • 16. THE HEN.
  • 17. THE PEARL.
  • 18. THE DOVE.
  • 19. THE FOVNTAIN.
  • 20. THE MOVNT.
  • 21. THE SEA.
  • 22. THE SHIP.

Wherunto are annexed the PHOENIX, and the SWAN without the Garden.

THE EPISTLE TO THE PARTHENIAN SODALITIE.

MY deare PARTHENIANS, When the Sauiour of the world had passed the Torrent of Cedron, into the Garden of Gethsemani, there to commence the Tragedie, whose sad Catastrophe he was to finish on Mount Caluarie, he gaue to vnderstand, how much (no doubt) he was pleased with Gardens. But then especially, after the Tragick Scene was ended, and that doleful curten or veyle was rent asunder (a token of the period of the Iewish Theater) when al was voyded, and he vouchsa­fed to appeare familiarly againe to his deerest friends, in the forme and habit of a Gardener, he euidently declared his good affection, towards the Garden of their Soules, which then he came to [Page] cheer-vp and refresh with his Diuine presence, & to banish the clowdes of heauines, which so sad a spectacle had cast vpon the Garden of their harts, when as no flowers or functions of their soules could chearfully yeald their luster, or send forth anie special odour of sāctitie, so drowned in teares. May it not therefore seeme strange vnto you, if I, knowing the sympathie of harts, between the Mother and the Sonne, the Blessed IESVS, flower of Nazareth, and his sacred Stem, presume heer to personate, and make her appeare to your viewes, not in the habit of fashion of a Gardener, which office she rather yealds (as proper) to her Sonne, but of a Garden, vnder the veyle of Symbols, to deliciate a while with her Deuotes, You, deerest Parthenians, yet greeued and groaning with the burden of your pressures, for his sake, who is the cu [...]ious Gardener indeed, that from the beginning planted the same for himself, from al Eternitie. Now then the winter past of melancholie thoughts, the showers blowne-ouer and quite vanished, of teares of persecution; I say, laying the memorie of them al aside, as stormes already past, in conceit at least, you heer behold our SACRED PARTHENES, who presents her self for your delights in Garden-attire and cheer­fully receaue her, with serene browes, in this coorse and rural array, of hearbes and flowers, as if she were clothed with the Sunne, crowned with the Starres, and trampling the Moone, as [Page] once she was seen by her holie Guardian, the deare Disciple, whom IESVS loued. Nor would I wish you perfunctoriously to view her only, and passe her ouer with a slender glance of the eye, but to enter into her Garden, which she is herself, and suruey it wel. Where, to the end you may not erre, mistake, or goe astray, in wayes so new, and strange, and (for ought I know) as yet vntraced or trod of anie, take heer, I pray, for Guide, my proper Genius, wel acquainted with al passages of them. And you (O SACRED PAR­THENES) I beseech especially, to guide me also, while in your seruice I take thus vpon me to guide the rest.

THE PREFACE TO THE READER.

COnsidering, Gentle Reader, how much thou art taken and delighted (as men are wont) with change and varietie in al things: I [...] heer endeauoured to serue thee in this Worke, according to thine appetite. Which being not my sole end, but for thy deuotion rather, I made Varietie the hand mayd to Pietie, directing al, as you see, therunto. And though I am a most vnworthie Client and De­uote to the Immaculate Virgin-Mother of God, I haue presumed (as you see) to direct both the one and other, to the honour of that Incomparable Queene of Heauen. Wherin though the in­struments I vse, may seeme prophane, so pro­phanely vsed now adayes, as Deuises cōsisting of [Page] Impreses, and Mottoes, Characters, Essayes, Emblemes, and Poesies; yet they may be like that Panthaeon, once sacred to the feigned Dei­ties, and piously since sanctified, conuerted, and cōsecrated to the honour of the glorious Queene, and al the blessed Saints of Heauen. And following the example of the Israelits, warran­ted by GOD himself, I haue borrowed but the siluer and golden vessels, of those profane Aegyptians, and not the poysonous liquours they caroused in them; to conuert them (I say) to a better vse, in seruice of my Ladie and Mistris, and for the pleasure and deuotion of her especial Familie; yea, Gentle Reader, for thy solace too, if thou art pleased to accept of my poore endeauours.

THE PROEME TO HIS GENIVS ON THE SACRED PARTHENES herself.

MY GENIVS; If thou needs must praise, extol, and magnify Beautie, Vertue, Honour; and not in the ayre only of Ideas, or abstract from sense, but in a subiect real­ly, subsisting: I say, if thou needs must dignify and eternize a pure creature aboue the skyes, praise then such an one, whose superlatiue prai­ses, when thou hast sayd the most, can hardly so exceed, but that her due Elogies, Encomiums, and Panegyricks, stil shal farre transcend the facultie of thy tongue, and thou be acquit of the least imputation of flatteries. And if my Genius carrie thee (my pen) into daliances, as it were, to deliciat with thy self, vpon thy plumes, in con­templation of that noble Sex, corriual with the [Page] Masculin; doe not, I prythee, with Isocrates, seeke a Helena, that fatal and most deplorable fire-brand of the Troyan Cittie, on whom that elegant and terse Sophister powred forth the musks and ciuets of his venal tongue, the riches of of a wanton and luxuriating wit. Behold SHE is euen now at hand, whom worthily thou mayst, and whom thou canst not prayse enough, so farre from praysing her too much; who besi­des is able wel to guerdon and recompence thy prayses giuen her, with heaped and redoubled interest. Behold then our SACRED PARTHENES, Virgin of Virgins, for excellencie, is SHE, whom safely thou mayst prayse, whom the impatient World for so manie Ages, groaning vnder their pressing burden of their crimes, with vowes and prayers had most incessantly begged and impor­tuned. A boon of wel-nigh fiftie Ages suit, obtai­ned at last with much adoe. So great a work it was for Nature, albeit holpen by Grace, to bring forth to Mortals a creature, worthie to be the Mother of God, Ladie of the World, and the true Reparatresse of life. Nor doe thou frame to thyself heer the Mercuries of a counterfet and Sophisticat candour, couloured cheekes, curled hayre, and wreathed knots with inexplicable Meanders. Seeke not Vermilion or Ceruse in the face, bracelets of Oriental-pearles on her wrist, Rubie-carknets on the neck, rich pen­dants in the eares, and a delicious fan of most ex­quisit [Page] feathers in her hand, nor al that magasin of Feminin riches, or richest ornaments of Beautie, enough to belye beauties rather, and destroy them quite, then to afford them, where they are not found; they being nothing els then a precious Scene of fopperies, which they only seeke with a curious wastfulnes, who wil needs be wholy mad with the greatest sumptuousnes and cost; wheras surely true Beautie is but one, which euen inte­gritie of the mind makes, being the liuelie coulour of God; and was no doubt that, which so much graced our PARTHENES, and set her forth, whom the entire and intemerate comlines of Vertues hath crowned with such a gloriet on her head, and such splendour and glorie in heauen, as in a pure creature nothing may be imagined more magnificent in riches, nor in suauities sweeter. And surely when I think more attētiuely of her, it seemes to me, the highest Architect of All and great GOD, the sole Moderatour of all, in creating this one Soule, hath so admirably exprest himself in her, and with his most exquisit fingars, hath bestowed so much art and industrie in her deli­neation, and so pleased himself with the delicat draughts he hath shewed in this one image of himself, as if in the shop of human things he would expose her to all, to be imitated. Where­fore when as that Soule, farre purer then the Starres, and flowing with so manie exquisit ornaments, glided into the Tabernacle of her [Page] bodie, that impure Firebrand was not cast into her, which first was kindled in the Authours of our kind, and flamed forth afterwards farre and wide, to the waste and vtter ruine of the whole world, but as a Saphyr or purer Adamant, appea­res and growes vp in pure and burnisht gold: so a most chast Soule, by the hands of God dispo­sing so therof, was put into her inuiolable and sanctified bodie, that no least stayne of her stock and progenie might light vpon her. Then, after. SHE (that golden issue of her Mother) was borne and brought forth to light, I easily be­leeue, that Nature recreated and refreshed from the daylie miserie it lay in, euen laughed to be­hold her, supposing the light was newly risen to her, when first she fixt her eyes on her, from whose precious and Virginal womb, was the Fountain of light itself to spring. The Virgin-infant heervpon was nursed-vp and trayned be­twen chast walls, in a most holie discipline of Patrial lawes, and instructed with those studies of arts, that might addresse her as a noble Sacrarie of God. Anticipating vertue, she vrged and pressed more hard the flower paces of her years, which hardly could endure the long demurres of age, of vhom was Nature ashamed as it were to impose anie lawes of longer attendance. For euen now in her first age, there shined manie Dotes in her, as starres in the heauens in a serene night, like sparkling [Page] gemmes fixed in their orbs; since SHE had in her whole life, as you know, a maruelous societie of al Vertues, wherewith SHE woue that loome of her age, as with singular and most excellent figures, in whom the absolute consent and har­monie of al Vertues haue magnificently con­spired, that Beautie should not violate Shame­fastnes; grauitie, infringe lowlines; meekenes, grauitie; Simplicitie, Maiestie; facilitie, con­stancie; lastly (which til then was neuer heard of) that the name of Mother should be nothing iniurious to Virginitie. Al Vertues stroue alike in HER, and al had the victorie. Nor yet was SHE de­stiture of the guifts of Nature likewise, while a certain Diuinitie of beautie dazeled the aspects of men.So Epi­phanius very nigh des­cribes her, The bashful forhead (seate of sham­fastnes) soft and gently arose; beneath the black and archie browes, shined forth the bright lamps of HER eyes, which how powerfully they pierced and penetrated the heauens, who knowes not? The nose most gracefully inflec­ting, made a handsome kind of pillaster to her forhead; lips somewhat thinner, the recepta­cle of a meeke elocution, and celestial gra­ces; a great affabilitie of speach; a singular mo­destie of gate; a countenance, graceful with­out softnes or leuitie, graue without statelines, set alwayes in a perpetual sereanes, which hardly could admit the least impression of laugh­ter. It were long to prosecute the rest; I shal [Page] haue sayd al things, saying, SHE is the MOTHER of GOD. But this dignitie when al the tongues, I say not of men only, but euen of the Angels themselues, shal proclaime and set forth, doe what they can, shal be enforted to cry out: De dilecta nunquam satis.

[figure]

[Page 1]THE PLAT-FORME OF THE GARDEN.

WHerefore, my GENIVS, I would wish thee, to enter into the large, spacious, and ample GAR­DEN of our SACRED PARTHE­NES, and there behold those spe­cious, and most delicious Obiects; all, so wholy consecrated to her seruice, that they seeme as borne to expresse her prayses; euerie one, to help thee out, to accomplish and performe this task so hard to vndertake, and impossible to be done so worthily, as SHE deserues. Goe, I say; suruey her GARDEN, beset with the bashful ROSE, the can­did LILLIE, the purple VIOLET, the goodlie HELIOTROPION, sprinckled al with DEWES, which the busie BEE gathers as it falles from the HEAVENS, dressed with an IRIS, as with a siluer MOON, insteed of a torch, and enameled with miriads of STARRES, as lesser lamps, to af­ford it light, in the obscuritie of the night; enclo­sed round, and compassed-in with a wal, where on an OLIVE, you may behold the iollie PHILOMEL to [Page 2] pearch, chanting her Roundelayes; and on the other side, a flourishing and statelie PALME; and likewise see a goodlie HOVSE of pleasure, standing therin before you; and if you mark it wel, you shal discerne that domestical and almost inseparable companion therof, the HEN, there scraping in the dust for food, wherin She finds a precious Margarit or PEARL; and on the top therof espy an innocent and meek DOVE, as white and candid, as the driuen snow; for in this GARDEN are al things pure. Where likewise in a place more eminent and conspicuous then the rest, you may behold a faire and beau­tiful FOVNTAIN, artificiously contriued with pipes so vnder ground, as waters al, when need requires. And if, my Genius, al these wil not suf­fise, to make vp ful thy Quire of Laudes, to magnify thy SACRED PARTHENES, ascend vpon that MOVNT before thy face; and with an Opticon discouer thence, the Ocean SEA, and inuite it likewise with the rest, to beare a part; and for a fuller complement of al, waue but a little banner to some SHIP or other, to come-in with al her fraught of magnificent prayses. For al within ken or view of that same MOVNT, are subiects and deare De­uotes of our Sacred and Incomparable PAR­THENES.

But soft, my Genius; ere thou leade thy Reader into the Maze or Labyrinth of the beauties therin contained, pause heer a while, to consider how to behaue thy self, before (I say) thou let him in, to speculate that Magazin of beauties; which being so mysterious and delicious an Obiect, re­quires not to be rashly lookt vpon, or perfuncto­riously to be slighted ouer, but, as the manner is of such as enter into a Garden, to glance at first [Page] theron with a light regard, then to reflect vpon it with a better heed, to find some gentle mysterie or conceipt vpon it, to some vse or other; and then liking it better, to reuiew the same againe, and so to make a Suruey thervpon to the same vse. This would I haue thee punctually obserue in al, to guide thy Reader with, in this present GARDEN of our sacred PARTHENES. First then shalt thou presente him with the Symbol it self, set-forth in manner of a Deuise, with an Im­prese and Motto, expressing the allusion to the SACRED PARTHENES herself, in some mys­terie of hers, or attribute belonging to her. Then shalt thou take the Imprese being the Symbol by itself, and dallie as it were with some natural and apt Character vpon it; being no more, then certain superficial Glances, deciphering it in some sort, but lightly only, for a first entertainment of thy Reader. Thē with Morals, on the Motto, shalt thou but touch or reflect vpon the Paragon herself for the pre­sent, and no more. Then looking back with a fresh reuiew on the Symbol itself, by way of an Essay, shalt thou make a fuller Suruey therof, discoursing on the Paragon herself, to match compare, and paralel them togeather, to find out some Elogies or other, in prayse of our SACRED PARTHENES. Thence to satisfy the Eye as wel as the Vnderstanding, for his greater delight, thou shalt pause a while, to leade him to behold, as in a Tapestrie, the Symbol turned into an Embleme, piously cōposed; where for the clearer vnderstanding therof, the same shal be indicatiuely expressed in a Poesie, made for the purpose. Then shalt thou make him sit downe a while, to ponder, consider, and contēplate some things besides, conducing to the further dis­couerie [Page 4] of the hidden mysterie, contained in the Symbol itself, to the honour of our SACRED PARTHENES, as certain Speculations or Theories ther­on. And after al, shalt thou inuite him to Apostro­phize with the Paragon PARTHENES herself, vn­der the Symbol so handled, being the vtmost scope, and ful fruition of the whole; and so conclude the peece with some boone or suite, correspondent to the present occasion, in euerie one. And this method would I haue thee keepe in al. Now then, being thus admonished, I licence, and freely giue thee leaue, to leade thy Reader first into her priuate Garden (for Princes, you must know, and great Ladies too, be­sides their publick, haue some priuate Garden of their owne) where, though enclosed, yet with the wings of Contemplation, may he secretly view, re­flect, reuiew, suruey, delight, contemplate, and enioy the hidden and sublime perfections therin, and lastly obtaine, no doubt, anie reasonable suite at the hands of the SACRED PARTHENES in respect thereof, for his reward.

THE I. SYMBOL. THE GARDEN.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE GARDEN is a goodlie Amphi­theater of flowers,The Impres [...]. vpon whose leaues, delicious beauties stand, as on a stage, to be gazed on; and to play their parts, not to see so much; as to be seen; and like Wantons to allure with their looks, or en­chant with their words, the ciuets and perfumes they weare about them. It is euen the pride of Nature, her best array, which she puts on, to entertaine the Spring withal. It is the rich Magazin or Burse of the best perfumes or Roman wash: A poesie of more [Page 6] worth, then a bal of pomander, to make one grateful where he comes; the one being sweetly sweet, the other importunely. It is a Monopolie of al the plea­sures and delights that are on earth, amassed togea­ther, to make a dearth therof els-where, and to set what price they list vpon them? It is the precious Cabinet of flowrie gems, or gems of flowers: The shop of Simples in their element, delighting rather to liue delicious in themselues at home, where they are bred, then changing their conditions, to become restoratiues to others; or to dye to their beau­ties, to satisfy the couetous humour of euerie Apothecarie, to enrich himself with their spoyles. It is the Pallace of Flora's pomps, where is the ward-robe of her richest mantles, powdred with starres of flowers, and al embroadred with flowrie stones. It is the laughter and smile of Nature: Her lap­ful of flowers, and the Garland she is crowned with in triumphs. It is a Paradice of pleasures, whose open walks are Tarrases, the Close, the Galleries, the Ar­bours, the Pauillions, the flowrie Bancks, the easie and soft Couches. it is, in a word, a world of sweets, that liue in a faire Communitie togeather, where is no enuie of another's happines, or contempt of others pouertie; while euerie flower is contented with its owne estate; nor would the Dazie wish to be a Rose, nor yet the Rose contemnes the meanest flower.

THE MORALS.

‘SACER PRINCIPI.’

IT is a Maxime in al Arts: There is no rule without exception. The Mor [...]. And Sanctuaries, we know, in al good Christian Com­mon-wealths haue been euer allowed of. Who is he so rude; that dares lay hands vpon the vessels marked with the Prince's Armes? Or who presumes to disannul or cancel his Priuie or Broad Seals? The Prince's closet is shut to al, but to the Prince himself. His Signet is a Key, that opens al the posterns of his Court. There is no Prince, who, besides his common treasure, hath not a priuat casket of his owne. When the world was drowned, there was an Ark, that safely floted on the Mayne; nor al the Cataracts of Heauen, were able to ouerwhelme it. The Iewes indeed had their Citties of Refuge, and the King of Iewes no lesse his sanctifyed Cittie. It was a great Praculum to violate the immunities of those; What think you then of his priuat Cittie? Hath he a Cittie for him­self, and not a Garden priuate to himself? Doubtles he hath. He hath then a priuate Garden of his owne; and keeps the keys himself. Long liue the Prince then, to enioy his Garden;Capit comme de [...]us: and cursed be he; that shal but with the mouth or hart seeme to violate the sacred closures of his Garden. Quia PRINCIPI SACER.

THE ESSAY.

I wil not take vpon me to tel al; for so of a Garden of flowers,The Review. should I make a Labyrinth of discourse, and should neuer be able to get forth. Cast but your eyes a little on those goodlie Allies, as sowed al ouer with sands of gold, drawne-forth so streight by a line. Those Cros-bowes there (be not affrayed of them) they are but Cros-bowes made of Bayes; and the Harquebusiers, wrought in Rosmarie, shoot but flow­ers, and dart forth musk. Those Beasts likewise, hor­rible there and dreadful to see to, are but in ieast; al that menace they make, is but a shew only. Al those armed Men with greenish weapons, and those Beasts al clad in skins of green, are but of Prim, Isop, and Tyme, al hearbs very apt to historify withal. I wil quite passe ouer those little Groues, Thickets, and Arbours, and speake nothing of those Pety-canons there and Quiristers, chanting their Complines in the Euening, and Nocturnes in the Night, mingling their prettie Mottets, which Nature learnes them, of their owne accord. Nor wil I heer speake a word of those Water-works, Conduits, and Aquaducts, which yet might you heare to make a gentle murmur throughout, affording an apt Base for the birds to descant on. I hast me to the Flowers only most pro­per to our GARDEN heer. Behold, I pray, those Bushes, al enameled with ROSES of so manie sorts; these heer apparrelled with the white of Innocencie; those there with a scarlet tincture; one wel-nigh withered embalmes the ayre with its perfume, and makes a shew with its golden threads, and al its treasure; that other is yet in its folds, and dares [Page] not hazard so much as to peepe forth; this heer puts forth the bud, and now half-open smiles withal, and shewes forth a glimps of its purple, through a cliff of the green Cafe, wherein it is; which the theeuish birds would soone come to steale away, were it not for the Garrison of thornes, that serues for a Corps­de-guard to that Queene of flowers. Behold there the Lillies of ten sorts; some yet hidden in their green cups; others half borne; and the rest newly disclo­sed. What think you? are they not exceeding faire? You would say, they were of white Satin, streaked without, and al embroadered within with gold; you can hardly tel, whether they be milk condensed into leaues, or figured snow, or siluer flower-de-lis'd, or a starre al musked. Those yellow ones, would you not verily think them to be golden bels? and that red one, a little purse of crimson-satin? and those others, some goodlie vessels of Emeralds, or the like? But marke a while; see you not those beds strewed with a thousand Violets? some yellow, some purple, some white, some speckled, and some party-couloured, some Carnashion, and some changeable. Behold those faire and beautiful Tulips there; those rich Amaranths, cerulean Hiacinths, Pansies, the gemmes of the goodlie IRIS; the scarlet Gillo­flower, the Pinks, the Marygolds, and a thousand other flowers. O what a Paradice of flowers is this! What a Heauen of muskie starres, or Celestial Earth al starred with flowers, empearled with gemmes and precious stones! A land of promise, ful of milk and honie! Behold, I say, the ROSE, dedicated (they say) to that little elf Cupid; whose threads are as golden hayres; whose thornes in steed of arrowes; whose fire, a flash of luster; and whose leaues are wings; few can touch it, without touch of loue [Page 10] vnto it; and it costs them deare, who meddle with it. The LILLIE hangs the head downe; for modestie, I suppose; though it can not blush, for hauing nothing to blush at; her flower being al so white and without spot. They say, She was borne of the milk of Iuno; howsoeuer she is called the Royal flower, the Rose of Iuno. Note there the humilitie of the VIOLET, how like to the strawberrie she keeps by the ground, hiding, what she can, her beautie in her leaues, but is discouered whether she wil or no; partly by the flashes of her luster, breaking forth vnawares betweene the leaues, not so reserued as they ought; and partly with the odour she can not choose but send forth. The Tulip is a singular ornament to this Garden; looke and obserue it wel. How were it possi­ble, one would think, so thin a leaf, bred and nou­rished in the same ayre, and proceeding from the same stem, should be golden in the bottome, violet without, saffron within, bordered on the edge with fine gold, and the prickle of the point blew as a goodlie Saphir? and a hundred others of seueral fashions, as if they had striuen to dresse themselues to put the eyes into paine, not knowing where to be­stow themselues. There againe, may you note ano­ther, not vnlike to a Columbin, very gracious to see to, enameled with drops of gold, and a thousand other the like varieties; so as of necessitie we must needs confesse, that GOD is very admirable in his works, since on so poore a thing, as a slender stalk, grow such a number of excellent varieties. And now I ad­dresse myself to Thee, the Soueraigne and Mystical GARDEN itself, the Paragon of Gardens.

THE DISCOVRSE.

I Speake not heer of the Couent-Garden, the garden of the Temple, The Suruey. nor that of the Char­ter-house, or of Grayes-Inne Walkes, to be had and enioyed at home; nor of the Garden of Padua, or of Mountpelier, so illustrious for Simples, I speake not of the Gardē of Hesperides, where grew the golden Apples, nor yet of Tempe, or the E­lizian fields. I speake not of Eden, the Earthlie Paradice, nor of the Garden of Gethsemany, watred with Bloud flowing from our Sauiour's precious bodie: But I speake of Thee, that GARDEN so knowne by the name of HORTVS CONCLVSVS; wherein are al things myste­riously and spiritually to be found, which euen beau­tifyes the fairest Gardens: being a place, no lesse deli­cious in winter, then in Summer, in Autume, then in the Spring; and wherin is no season to be seen, but a perpetual Spring; where are al kinds of delights in great abundance, that can possibly be deuised; where are faire and goodlie Allies, streight and euen, strewed al with sands, that is, a streight, vertuous, and Angelical life, yet strewed with the sands and dust of her proper Humilitie; where are Arbours to shadow her from the heats of concupiscence; flow­rie Beds to repose in, with heauenlie Contempla­tions; Mounts to ascend to, with the studie of Per­fections: where are hearbs, and Simples, soueraigne medicines of al spiritual maladies, where (I say) are the Flowers of al Vertues: The LILLIE of spotles and immaculate Chastitie, the ROSE of Shamfastnes and bashful Modestie, the VIOLET of Humilitie, the Gil­loflower ol Patience, the Marygold of Charitie, the Hiacinth of Hope, the SVN-FLOWER of Contemplatiō, the Tulip of Beautie and gracefulnes. In this GARDEN ENCLOSED are certain risings to be seen of Hils in [Page 12] eleuations of mind, and Valleys againe in depres­sions and demissions of the same mind, through an­nihilation; heer likewise are Vines of spiritual glad­nes, and Groues of a retired solitude, to be found. Heer whole Quiers of Angels are accustomed to to sing their Alleluyas, at al howers, in lieu of the Phil [...]mels in the silence of the Night; in steed of the Larks, at the hower of Prime; in place of the Thrush, the Linet, and Canarie-bird, at al Howers. Heer spring the limpid fountains of al Graces; whence streame the little rils and brooks watering the Paradice on al sides, and thence abundantly flowing to the rest of Mortals. Heer are Pooles for the harmles fry of her innocent thoughts, like fishes heer and there to passe vp and downe in the heauenlie Element of her mind; heer and there certain labyrinths formed in the hearbs of Her endles perfections. Heer lastly are statues of Her rare examples to be seen, Obelisks, Pyramides, Triumphal Arches, Aqua-ducts, Ther­mes, Pillars of Eternal Memorie, erected to Her glo­rie, in contemplation of her Admirable, Angelical, and Diuine life.

But that which sets forth and adornes this incom­parable and mysterious GARDEN most, is the special Priuiledge and Prerogatiue it hath, not only ouer al the Gardens of the world besides, but euen also of the Terrestrial Paradice itself; for that the Garden of Eden, or Terrestrial Paradice, was not so exempt from Sinne, but the place where Sinne began; and was not so free from the Serpent, but that he could get-in and work the mischief; so as for auoyding more enfuing dangers, it was necessarie to place at the gates therof for euer after, an Angel-Porter of the Order of the Cherubins, with a fierie and two-ed­ged sword, to guard the same. Wheras this GARDEN [Page 13] (our LADIE) was a GARDEN shut-vp indeed frō the be­ginning, and diuinely preserued Immaculate, from Her first Conception, adorned with al those sorts of flowers and plants of Graces, Vertues, and Perfec­tions I mentioned aboue; whereto no Serpent, nor Original sinne, much lesse Actual, could haue acces, but was alwayes euen from her first beginning, a most delicious Paradice and GARDEN shut-vp from al inuasions of Enemies.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

THe Virgin was a Garden round beset
With Rose, and Lillie, and sweet Violet.
Where fragrant Sentss, without distast of Sinne,
Inuite [...] GOD the Sonne to enter in.
But it was clos'd:
Alma signifyes Inclo­sed & a Virgin shut vp in He­brew.
Alma's shut vp, we know,
What Gard'ner then might enter in to sow?
[Page 14] Or plant within this Eden? Or, what birth
Might be expected from a virgin-earth?
The Holie-Spirit, like a subtile wind,
Peercing through al, only a way could find.
As th' Earth brought forth at first, how't is not knowne:
So did this Garden, which was neuer sowne.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, how our Lord GOD had planted a Paradice of delights, that is, the Virgin MARIE,The Contemplation. from the begin­ning, to wit, in the East; wherin he pla­ced Man, whom he had framed, be­cause indeed he put CHRIST in her womb, through the operation of the Holie-Ghost. Which place in truth is very pleasant; because what­soeuer is delightful in a Garden, was abundantly found in Her: there being the Cedar of high Contem­plation, the Cypres of odoriferous fame and sanctitie of life, the Lawrel of Constancie, the Palme of glorious Victorie, the Mulberrie of Patience, the Myrtle of Mortifica­tion, the Oliue of Mercie, the Almond of Fruitfulnes, the Fig­tree of Deliciousnes, the Plane-tree of Fayth; for the Plane hath leaues like to our Escuchions, or Targets, and therefore signifyeth Fayth; for that Fayth is a Target against the temptations of the Diuel; But especially the Tree of Life, whereof S. Augustin sayth thus: The Virgin MARIE is sayd to be a Paradice, in the midst wherof is the Tree of Life, with whose leaues the sick are cured, whose odour reuiues the, dead, whose tast sweetens the bitter, whose shadow refreshes the wretched, and whose aspect reioyceth the An­gels.

[Page 15] Consider then the amenitie and pleasure of this GARDEN of our Ladie. For there were Pomgranats, that is, an ordination of Vertues, and a wonderful sweetnes of Deuotion; for loe, Pomgranats haue their graines disposed in an admirable order, and are indeed most delicious fruits; to which kind of Ap­ples the Spouse inuites her Spouse, saying: Let my beloued come into his Garden, and eate the fruit of his apples. There likewise was the Cypres with Nara, that is odorif­erous fame and profound humilitie; because the Cypres is an oderiferous tree, and the Nard a most humble hearb. There was Nard and Saffron, to wit, feruent Charitie, and Humilitie of Celestial Contempla­tion; because the Nard is a hot hearb; and Saffron hath a golden colour. There were Canes and Cinamon, withal the trees of Libanus; because in her was a sin­gular puritie of Conscience, an excellent odour of good Fame, and Incorruptibilitie of the flesh. For the Cane hath its vertue in the pith; the Cinamon hath its odour in the bark; and the wood of Libanus is incorruptible: And lastly was there both Mirrh and Alloes, with al the prime Vnguents; because in Her was bitternes of tribulation for her Sonne's passion, the bitternes of compassion for the affliction of the miserable; and the sweetnes of deuotion was in Her mind. For Mirrh and Alloes are bitter; and the Vnguents sweet and delicious.

Ponder lastly these words of the Canticles: Cant. 4. Come Southern wind, and blow vpon my garden, and the spices shal flow forth. Where by the Southern wind is vnder­stood the breath of the Holie-Ghost. For the South-wind is a hot, humid, and fruitful wind; which euen blew in the Virginal Garden of our LADIE, for that it made her hot through Charitie, humid through Pietie, and fruitful through plentie of good works: and so [Page 16] flowed She with odoriferous Spices, whose odour as balme did recreate GOD; and like Cinamon com­forted the whole world: because Cinamon cōforts the stomack; and like vnto Mirrh did driue away Diuels; for that indeed the smel of Mirrh expels the wormes.

THE APOSTROPHE

SHAL be made to the INCOMPARABLE VIRGIN, The Collo­quie. as to the Abstract of perfections, in this or the like manner: O most Soueraigne Prin­cesse, Ladie of Paradice, yea a Paradice itself of al perfections: Most pure Virgin, most chast Spirit, Virgin ful of grace, Mirrour of puritie, Pattern of sanctitie, Sunne of chastitie, Model of inno­cencie, Image of vertue, Example of perfection, Vessel of singular pietie, Mother and Mistris of Christian Religion, blessed Band, delicious Garden, the Deuotion of the whole world: Be al Ver­tues, O my dear Aduocat, afforded me. O Ladie, Soue­raigne creature among the pure; obtaine them for me, I beseech thee from the bottome of my hart, through the sweetnesses of thy immaculate Conception, and thy blessed child-birth; through the sweet nourishment of the precious milk, giuen to thy Sonne, GOD and MAN, the King of Kings; by those sacred and diuine kisses, which thou so reuerently gauest him in his tender infancie. O grant me those flowers of thy delicious Garden, I beseech thee; and after al, to behold Thee triumphant in the Celestial Paradice.

THE II. SYMBOL. THE ROSE.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE ROSE is the Imperial Queene of Flowers,The Impresa. which al doe homage to, as to their Princesse, She being the glorie and delight of that Monarchie. She is herself a Treasurie of al Sweets, a Cabinet of Musks, which She commends to none to keepe, but holds them folded in her leaues; as knowing wel, how little conscience is made of such stealths. If anie haue a wil to seeke Diamonds among flowers, he may seeke long enough ere he find them; but if a Rubie he seekes for, the ROSE is a precious Rubie. It is the Darling of the Garden-Nimphs, and the cause [Page 18] sometimes perhaps of much debate betweene them, while each one striues to haue it proper to herself, being made for al, and is verily enough for al. It is the Pallace of the flowrie Numens, enuironed round with a Court-of-Guard about her, that stand in a readines with iauelins in hand, and the Qui va la in the mouth, with whom is but a word and a blow, or rather whose words are blowes, that fetch the bloud. It is the Metropolis of the Graces, where they hold their Cōmon-wealth, and where the Senat of al odorife­rous Spices keepe their Court. It is the chiefest grace of Spouses on their Nuptial dayes, and the Bride wil as soone forget her fillet as her Rose. It is the maister­peece of Nature in her garden-works, and euen a verie spel to Artizans to frame the like; for though perhaps they may delude the eye, yet by no meanes can they counterfeit the odour, the life, and spirit of the Rose. When Flora is disposed to deliciate with her minions, the Rose is her Adonis, bleeding in her lap; the Rose her Ganimed, presenting her cups ful of the Nectar of her sweets. It is euen the Confectionarie-box of the dantiest Conserues, which Nature hath to cherish-vp herself with, when she languisheth in Au­tumne. The Cellarie of the sweetest lickours, either wine or water; her wines being Nectars, and her waters no lesse precious then they, whose dryed lea­ues are the emptie bottles. In a word, the Rose for beautie is a Rose, for sweetnes a Rose, and for al the graces possible in flowers, a verie Rose; the quintessence of beautie, sweets, and graces, al at once, and al as epitomized in the name of ROSE.

THE MORALS.

‘CASTO PERFVSA RVBORE.’

IT is a cōmon Saying: The honest Bride­groome, The Motto. and the bashful Bride. For so when Rebecca first was brought to the youthful Isaac, as a Spouse, she put her scar for veile before her eyes. So Rachel did, and manie others. Lucretia the Chast chose rather to wallow in her bloud, then to suruiue her shame, wherin she blushed indeed, but yet without cause; for yet stil she remaynes in al mens mouths, the Chast Lucretia. The hart and cheeks haue their intelligences togeather, and the purest bloud is messenger betweene them. The hart is put into a fright; the obsequious bloud comes-in anon, and asks: What ayle you, Sir? Goe, get you vp, and mount to the turret of the cheeks, my onlie friend, and cal for help; the bloud obeyes, and makes the blush, that rayseth such alarmes, intender Virgins most espe­cially. What feares the Virgin, when she blushes so? The wrack of her honour; you wil say. How so? Is Ho­nour in the Bodie, or the Mind? If in the Mind, the Mind is a Citadel impregnable, not subiect to vio­lence, nor to be betrayed, but by itself. Then blush not, Virgin, for the matter; thy hold is sure enough, and thou in safetie, if thou wilt thyself. But this of al other Vertues, neuer is safe and secure enough; this of al others feares the verie shadowes themselues, and trembles like an Aspin-leaf at the least motions. Now lookes she pale like a verie clowt; and now through modestie, the colour moūtss into her cheeks, and there sets-vp his ruddie standard, as if the Fort were his; til feare againe preuayling, plucks it downe [Page 20] And these were the vicissitudes our Sacred VIRGIN had, when her glorious Paranimph discoured his Embassage to her in her secret closet, presenting her a shadow only, seeming opposite to her chast Vow; wher at She trembled in his sight, CASTO PERFV­SA RVBORE.

THE ESSAY.

BEhold heer the Princesse of flowers, the Pearl of Roses,The Reuiew. with al its varieties: the Damask Rose, the Musk-Rose: The Red, the Cinamon, the Carnation, the Prouince, the White, the Sauage Rose (which growes in the Eglantines) and lastly the Golden Rose, faire indeed to behold, but not so sweet. The Rose growes on a speckled thorn, swelling into sharp or pointed but­tons somwhat green, which riues by little and little, and opens at last, then vnbuttons and discloses its treasure, the Sunne vnfolds it, and opens the lights and leaues, making it display itself, and take life, so affording it the last draught of beautie to its scarlet; and now hauing perfumed it, and made the infusion of Rose-water therinto, in the midst appeares, as in a cup, certain golden points, and little threds of Musk or Saffron, sticking in the hart of the Rose. But to speake of the fires of its Carnation, the snow of the white Satin, the fine Emralds, cut into little toungs round about, to serue as a trayne to wayt vpon it; of the Balme and ambergrees, that breathes from this little crop of gold, which is in the midst; of the sharpnes of the thorns, that guard it from the little theeues, that would be nibling it away with their beaks; of the iuice and substance, which being squeezed, embalmes al round about it, with its fa­uour, of a hundred hidden vertues; as to fortify the [Page 21] hart, to cleer the cristal of the eyes, to banish clowds, to coole our heats, to stirre-vp the appetite, and a thousand the like, were a world to deale with; but I hasten to the Mistris-flower herself, who myste­riously sits in this goodlie oeconomic of Sweets and beauties, as in her Bower, wherin She delights to shrowd herself.

THE DISCOVRSE.

Two things in the Rose chiefly doe I note:The Suruey. what inwardly it containes, and what vertue and qualitie the Rose outwardly giues forth. It is strange, the same should be hot and cold togeather; cold in the leaues, hot in the seed; so as passions proceeding of excessiue heat, it alayes and qualifyes with its leaues; and with the heat and vigour of its seeds, it quickens and virifyes the frigid and melancholie affections of the bodie. Some men are tepid, yea cold in the loue of God; they are so dul & stupid in Diuine things, that they cannot rayse vp the mind from terreue and earthlie cogitations, to sublimer thoughts; being immured with base affections. But our Mystical Rose, with the seed of Grace in her, wherewith She was replenished, inflames their harts to the loue of God. Oh seed of our Rose! [...]. She shal not feare her house for the colds of the snowes; for al her houshold are cloa­thed double. This snow so cold, is a frigiditie of mind; but against this cold she cloathes her Deuotes with double suites of charitie, to God and their Neighbour. Some also are hot, and most desperatly in­flamed with the fires of Concupiscence; these heats she tempers and extinguishes with the deawes of her refrigerating grace, as with the leaues or mantle as [Page 22] it were of her gracious protection.

The Rose, the more it is wrung or pressed, the sweeter odour it sends forth, and yealds such a redo­lent fragrancie withal, that al are wonderfully taken with the odoriferous breath it giues: and this our Rose, the more she was wrung and pressed with the cruel fingar of tribulations and afflictions, the grea­ter her sanctitie appeared. Being banished into Aegypt, she gaue forth a most fragrant odour of Patience, wherewith she embalmed al Aegypt, and fructifyed afterwards into an infinit race of Deuo­tes, to her and her Sonne; witnes the Pauls, the Antho­nies, the Hilarions, the Macarians of Aegypt. In the Pas­sion of her Sonne, transfixed with the sword of sor­row, she yealded a sweet perfume of perfect Fayth. In other afflictions and tribulations she imparted the communicatiue odour of Compassion. For the tormēts which he suffered of the Iewes, she sent vp the fra­grancie of Thanks-giuing to the heauenlie Father, from the Thurible of her Hart. And in the desolation she felt after his Ascension, for the absence of her Beloued, she powred forth incense of her holie Desi­res and incomparable Deuotion. After al which odours, O giue me leaue, most sweet and odoriferous Rose, through desires and deuotion to runne after thee; or, doe thou but draw me after thee, Cant. 1. vnto the odour of thine oynt­ments.

The Rose growes on thorns, but puts not on their nature; the thorns are churlish and rough, while the Rose is sweet and gentle. And Our Rose sprung indeed from the thornie stock of the Iewish race, but yet tooke nothing of the con­dition of thorns with her. The Iewes were Prowd and haughtie, She most humble; they ful of vices, [Page 23] she fully replenished with grace; the Iewes, we see, are Infidels, she the pattern and mirrour of Fayth; the Iewes couetous of earthlie and terrene things, and she most thirsting after celestial. She sprung likewise from the thornie Eua; but yet tooke not after her nature. O thou Virgin (sayth S. Bernard) most flourishing Rod of Iesse! through whom was re­couered in the Branch, what had perished in the Root! Eua was a branch of bitternes, Marie a branch of eternal sweetnes. An admirable and most pro­found dispensation of the Diuine Wisedome! that such a Rod should grow from such a Root; such a Daughter from such a Mother; such a Free-borne from such a Bond-slaue; such an Empresse from such a captiue; from so dry a Thorn, so flourishing a Rose.

What the Rose giues outwardly forth, are the objects of three principal Senses: of Seing, Smelling and Touching; and for the first, who sees not, that hath the benefit of eyes, how gorgeous the Rose is among al the flowers of the Garden, allu­ring and attracting the eyes of al that enter into it? So our incomparable Rose, was exceeding faire; and with incredible beautie, seemed gracious and amiable to the eyes of al. H [...]st. 2. She was a glad spectacle vnto GOD, Men, and Angels; to GOD, because so specious to her Sonne, her Spouse, her GOD. The King desires thy beautie, and sayes therefore: Shew me thy face, for thy face is comelie. psal. Vnto men, she was so admirable for beautie and grace, that S. Denys, that great light of the Militant Church, beholding her, acknowledged himself to haue been dazeled, and nigh transported from himself. And for the Angels, [Page 24] heare what the Prophet sayes: Al the rich of the people, shal implore thy countenance. And who are these rich, but the Angels, who beyond others enioy the riches of the heauenlie Kingdome? Whence She is sayd to be the Glorie of Hierusalem, the gladnes of Israel, the honour of her people.

As for the odour she gaue-forth of her Sanctitie,Iudith. 14. it is sayd: The odour of thy garments; which is of her outward vertues,Cant. 4. being as the odour of incense, a grateful Sacrifice to God, which recreates those that are edifyed therewith.

And for the sense of Touching in the Rose, it is vn­derstood in a spiritual sense. Heare S. Bernard: Why feares human frailtie to approach to Marie? you shal find nothing terrible; She is wholy sweet and gentle; and being so sweet, is therefore to be sought-for, and embraced through deuotion. Take her then, and she shal exalt thee; when thou shalt embrace her, thou shalt be glori­fied by her.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

THe Virgin sprung euen from the barren earth,
The Pause.
A pure white Rose was in her happie birth,
Conceau'd without a thorne. This onlie Flower
The Father rays'd by his Almightie power.
When th' Angel said, she should conceaue a Sonne,
She blushed, & asked, how it should be donne?
The Holie-Ghost inflam'd, & so the white
By him was made a Damask firie bright.
Lastly her Sonne made her purple red,
When on the Crosse his precious Bloud was shed▪
No Faith of Mortals then but had a staine,
Excepting hers; for she was died in graine.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. a gallant and odoriferous Rose, growing on a pricklie and thornie stemme, and men with admiration to stand pointing at it, saying to one another: What is that, there so shot-vp, so beautiful to be­hold, from so ragged, sharp, and harsh a thorn? And then ponder, how the Angels stood amazed, seing so our Mystical Rose transplanted from Hierico, into the Heauenlie Paradice; or ascending rather so flourishing from the Desert, when there was like questioning amongst them, at her glorious Assumption, asking: Who it was, Cant, vlt. that ascended flowing with delights?

Consider then the Rose, while it growes in the Garden, and flourisheth, as it were aliue; how it cheeres and glads the eyes of al with its glorious presence; and how, after it is cropt from its stemme also, which is the death of the said Rose, what an odour it hath with it, euen after it hath been perse­cuted with fire in the fournace of the Stil, as wel in the water, as in the cake; and then think, what a mir­rour and pattern of sanctitie Our Ladie was, during her abode heer in the garden of the World; and how she multiplied her fauours to man-kind, especially after she was translated thence, and had been proued and exercised with infinit tribulations, leauing an vn­speakable odour behind, of miracles and graces; witnes the innumerable Votes that hang on her Tē ­ples and Chapels throughout the world.

Ponder lastly, that of Roses are made, sometimes Electuaries, sometimes Oyles, sometimes Playsters, and Conserues very soueraigne and medicinal for [Page 27] manie diseases, namely foure: for first, the Rose forti­fyes the stomack, and comforts the hart; secondly, it stops the flux of the venter; thirdly, it clarifyes the eyes; and finally, heales the head-ach. So our Mystical Rose comforts the hart, in affording it the Charitie of GOD; restraines the flux of sinnes, through the Feare of GOD, which she giues to eschew sinnes withal; cla­rifyes the eye of the vnderstanding, by imparting to it the knowledge of Diuine things; and cures the head,Thess, 5, which is hope, being the helmet of health, when she rayseth our tepid hope, to desire Celestial things; and therefore sayth: I am the mother of fayre dilection, Ecel, 24 of feare, of knowledge, and of holie hope.

THE APOSTROPHE.

FLower of flowers,The Colloquis O Rose of roses, O Flower of roses, O Rose of flowers! Shore me vp with flowers, because I lan­guish for loue of thy loue Iesvs, the bud of thee, ô Rose, little in thy womb greater in thine armes, & then fayrest of al, when opened throughly and displayed on the Crosse. By that precious bud of thine, I beseech thee, and the sheading of his most precious bloud, thou wouldst change my thorns into roses; and present me, as a Rose of sweet odours, to thy Sonne, and not as thorns for fuel of the fire of his indignation. O grant me this, I beseech thee; and heer doe I present thee, in honour of thee, the Mystical Rose, and thy Sonne, thy soueraigne Bud, the Hymne that followes:

Salue CHRISTI sacra Parens,
Flos de spina, spinâ carens,
Flos, Spinati gloria.
Nos spinetum, nos peccati
Spinâ sumus cruentari;
Sed tu spinae nescia.

THE III. SYMBOL. THE LILLIE.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Lillie is the Scepter of the chast Diana; The Impresa whose Flower-deluce, the crowne; and stemme, the handle; which she chastly wealds amidst the Nimphs of flowers. It is a Siluer-Bel, without sound to the eare, but ful of sweets to the brim; and where it can not draw the eares, the eyes it wil; and inebriats the curious with its ouer-sweets. It is a Box of Ciuets, which opens to the Zephirs, and pro­digally powers forth its spices to the standers round­about, though they come not very nigh it, Flora it [Page 29] seemes hath no other Purse, then this of candid saf­fron, without strings to shut it vp; so prodigal she is of her sweets which she wel knowes can neuer al be disbursed. Who had not seen a Lillie heertofore, espe­cially the Flower-deluce, the Prince of Lillies, would start (no doubt) as with the sight of a Garden-Comete, and cal in his friends perhaps to gaze on a Blazing Starre or Garden-Miracle. It is the ensigne of France, euen vying with the Brittish or Lancastrian Whiter Rose; if not so happie for her Vnion with the Red, the Ensigne of Peace, yet in this more happie, that she neuer was diuided, to haue need of such a Vnion, as euer standing of herself. It is a Quiuer of amourous shafts, with golden heads, which some cal hammers rather, against lust, to blunt the thorns of lewd Concupiscence. A verie Purselin cup, reple­nished within, with the rarities of Nature, enough to stupify and astonish the curious in the search of secrets. It is besides a precious Pot of the purest Ala­blaster, filled with the inualuable Spicknard of Arabia; for sent and odour, as it were, fellow vnto that, the blessed Magdalen powred on her Maister's head; and if you wil not beleeue me, approach but to the vessel itself, and you shal feel it streight. To say no more, no snow is found to be more white then it, nor giues a greater flash of lightning in the eyes then it, that sweetly dazels and not duls the sight.

THE MORALS.

‘NIVEO CANDORE NITESCEN’

THey are truly chast,The Motto. whose mind and bodie neuer yet admitted stayne in the virgin-wax of their pure integritie, in either part. Chast is she held to be, and so is truly, that vowes her chastitie, and keepes the same, howbeit once stayned perhaps, at least with impurities of mind, and washed againe with the Lauer made of the purest Bloud of the im­maculate Lamb, she seemes indeed to follow the Lamb, wheresoeuer he goes. The Turtle-Widowes are accompted chast, and so they are, that hauing lost their virginal integritie, are re-borne anew, as it were, both in mind and bodie, with a chaster pur­pose, neuer more to choose another earthlie Mate, or Turtle-Doue, to follow and consort withal; but in­steed of such, make choice to linck themselues from thence-forth to a heauenlie Spouse; and who, trow you, but the Spouse of Spouses? and that for euer. The Vestal-Virgins were esteemed such by al their Flamins, though they had but a bodilie integritie, and no mo­re, while the mind perhaps was secretly a Prostitute to al impurities. And if there was anie of them, as some there might be, who kept both the one and other sort of purities indeed, yet were they not vowed perpetually to be such; and so were chast, though they shined not with that snowie chastitie; which, if it be, were, and euer shal be so, is not yet the perfectest chastitie of al, nor anie way such, as the Queen of Virgins was, and therefore worthily sayd to be: NIVEO CANDORE NITESCENS.

THE ESSAY.

WHEN Nature is in her cheefest iolitie, she tapistryes the whole Vniuers with a world of delicious flowers.The Reuiew. And to say truth, these flowers are euen the smiles and laughters of the Earth, that sees herself now deliuered of the cruelties of the Winter, and long captiuitie. She seemes therin to take pleasure, recreate, and dis­port herself; to diaper the face of the earth in a thou­sand fashions, enameled with as manierarities; while the gentle breaths of Zephirus, with the sweet influen­ces of Heauen, mixing their moystures, with the heats of the April-Sun, make that whole diuersitie, which is in the bosome of the earth, al sowed-ouer with a thousand seeds, now mortifyed with the austerities of the winter. When they are come forth, Nature solicitous of these treasures so odoriferous, seekes to guard them carefully, and adorne them curiously; arming some with thorns, others with prickles; couering these with rough, and others with large and shadie leaues, to conserue their luster. Amōg the which the Lillie carries hers very long, and green, the stem, high and round, streight, vnited, fat, & firme, al clothed with leaues. On the top wherof, grow out as it were certain wyers, with heads therō, or buttons somewhat long, of the coulour of the hearb, which in time grow white, and fashion them­selues in forme of a bel of satin or siluer. From the bottome and hart therof, grow vpright, some litle wyers of gold, with heads like hammers of the same. The leaues wherof, of an exquisit whitnes, [Page 32] al streaked and striped without, goe enlarging themselues, like a bel, as before is sayd. The seed remaines in these hammers of gold. The stem to car­rie the head the better, is knotted and strengthned through-out; for that the Lillie is euer with the head hanging down-wards, and languishing, as not able to beare vp itself. There are some of them red, some of them azure. These are al so delicious, that euen to behold them were a great delight.

THE DISCOVRSE.

THE Liseron is a Lillie also,The Suruey. though a bastard of that kind, without odour and those wyers aboue, made as an essay, or practice, and first draught of Nature, endeuouring so to forme patterns, to frame some maister-piece of the true Flower-deluce, the Prince of Lillies. Our incom­prable VIRGIN is this Flower-deluce, that Princesse of Lillies, for the manie sympathies and faire resemblan­ces it hath with it. The Lillie is white without, and gold within, and both within and without, most fra­grant and odoriferous; and the Blessed VIRGIN was most faire and beautiful in her flesh, through the can­dour of her virginitie:Sap. 7. she, the candour of the eternal light; and the glasse without spot. In mind she was al inflamed, as the burnisht gold, Gold (as Aristotle sayth) can not be corrupted; nor could Her Charitie be euer extin­guished. For,Cant, 8. c manie waters, as it is sayd, can not extin­guish charitie. And how sweet She was both inwardly and outwardly, who sees not, that considers her Humilitie, in the lowlines of her hart within, and outwardly in her conuersation? Which Humilitie of hers sent forth such an odour vnto God,1. Cant 1 as allured and attracted him to her: When the King was in his seaty, [Page 33] my Nard gaue forth an odour: to wit, her Humilitie: And these are the Lillies: Virginitie, Humilitie, and Cha­ritie, which cheefly inuironed the Blessed Virgin, while her litle IESVS was hanging at her breast, being fed among Lillies; for if these be not Lillies, what are they?

Againe the Lillie hath a streight stem or stalk, ten­ding wholy and directed vpwards, but the leaues pendant and hanging downwards; and the Virgins mind like a staf was alwayes streight, and tending to GOD, in yealding him thanks for his benefits, and euer magnifying his holie Name. For as the Lillie whatsoeuer odour and candour it hath, directs it to heauen-wards: So MARIE, what sanctitie or grace soeuer she had, offered it vp al vnto GOD, But for the leaues, her words, they were alwayes bent to the earth, in speaking perpetually most humbly of her­self. Whence sayd she so affectuously: My soule doth mag­nify our Lord; behold the stem of this Lillie, how streight it was, and how directly ascended to the Heauens: But see the leaues now, and marke how they looke downwards: He hath regarded the lowlines of his handmayd, and the like.

The Lillie besides is alwayes fragrant, and of a most sweet odour; and our Lillie was perfumed with an odoriferous oyntment, which made her so fragrant and redolent, composed of three odoriferous spices: aromatizing as Balme, Eccl 24. Mirrh, and Cinamon. For she was Embalmed by the Diuinitie, when the Deitie was lodged in her; spiced with Mirrh, through the guift of Ange­lical puritie and Virginitie; and enflamed with a sweet Diuine loue, which is as the powder of Cina­mon heer vnderstood, hot in smel, and tast; hot in smel, and therefore as loue, draw me with the odour of thy Oyntments, to wit, with the loue of thy heauenlie graces; hot in tast, and therefore Diuine; because we [Page 34] are bid to see and tast, how sweet our Lord is. Of which oyntment it is sayd in the Canticles:Cant. 2. The odour of thine oyntments, is beyond al spices.

Besides, the Lillie hath the root and stem, six-square or corner-wise. So the root of Charitie in this Paragon, hath six points with it: the first, a loue of GOD aboue al things; the second, wherewith she loued her owne soule, conseruing the same in al sanctitie; the third, wherewith she loued her bodie, keeping it entirely for the Diuinitie; the fourth, wherewith she loued her domesticks and familiars, instructing them in al vertue; the fift, wherewith she loued her friends, in GOD; The last, wherewith she loued her enemies, for GOD.

And to conclude, as the Bed-chambers of Kings are adorned with Lillies, that they may rest more deli­ciously among them; so the Virgin, not the Chamber only of a King, but of GOD also, was dressed-vp and beset al with Lillies round-about; according to that: Thy womb as a heap of corn hedged-in with Lillies; Cant. 7. for she was al encompassed with Lillies: aboue, being enclosed with the Lillie of eminent Charitie; beneath, with the Lillie of profund Humilitie; inwardly, with the Lillie of internal Puritie; outwardly, with the Lillie of Virginitie; on the right hand, with the Lillie of Temperance, in pro­speritie; on the left, with the Lillie of Patience, in aduer­sitie; before, with the Lillie of Prouidence, in future things; behind, with the Lillie of Gratitude, for passed benefits. And since she was so enuironed and enclo­sed with Lillies of al sides, the Church sings of her: As the dayes of the Spring, doe the flowers of the roses enuiron her round. Cant. 2. Among which flowers of Roses and Lillies, the Beloued, that is CHRIST, is feeding: My beloued to me, and I to him, who seeds among the Lillies.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

A Pure-white Lillie,
The P [...]use.
like a siluer Cup,
The sacred Virgin humbly offers vp.
Her constant, stedfast, lowlie Hart (the foot,
Which al supports) is like this flower's root.
The stemme, her right Intention; & the bole
(The flower itself) is her chast spotlesse Soule.
The yellow knobbes, which sprowting forth are seen,
Isradiant Loue, which guild's her Cup within.
In lieu of liquides, is a fragrant sent:
Her vertues odours, which she doth present.
Her Sonne accepts al, that she offers vp,
GOD, Part of her inheritance, & Cup.

THE THEORIES.

Contemplate first,The Cōtemplation, how al thorns con­ceaue but thorns. For what should thorns conceaue but meerly thorns? Corrupt mothers bring forth into the world but men, which meerly are but men and sinners. But the Virgin-Mother conceaued the Holie of Holies. She now a Lillie conceaued, and afterwards produced the true Lillie of the vallies; a Lillie of Virginitie, the Lillie of Maiestie: through whose candour is darknes expelled; with whose odour, are raysed the dead; with whose touch, are the leaprous cleansed, and al the infirme and diseased cured. And therefore how much this Lillie of ours, is to be exalted aboue al the other Daugh­ters, iudge you, and ponder it wel.

Consider then, that though there were manie other Virgins besides, conspicuons and eminent for sanctitie, yet were as thorns; for that they had some ble­mish in them; since, howbeit they were pure in themselues, yet the fomes of sinne was not extin­guished in them; who were indeed as thorns to others, that haue been touched and incited with concupiscence towards them. Wheras the Virgin-Mother was wholy priuiledged from al guilt, in whom was that fomes altogeather extinguished, and was ac­complished with so intense a Chastitie, that with her inestimable Virginal puritie, she so penetrated the harts of the beholders, as she could not be coue­ted of anie; but for the time rather extinguished al lust of concupiscence in them. O beautie of Vir­ginitie and Humilitie, wherewith the Sonne of GOD was so allured and rauished!

[Page 37] Ponder lastly, that as the Lillie hath a most effica­cious vertue against leaprosie, vlcers, and the holie­fire, as also against the stinging of serpents: So the blessed Virgin being conceaued as a Lillie, was endued with such vertue of the Diuine grace, that neither the leaprosie of Original sinne, the fire of concupiscence, nor the biting of the old Serpent, could anie wayes hurt her.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Lillie of Lillies, and next the Lillie (thy dearest Sonne) the purest of al Lillies. The Colloqute Alas! most pure and immaculat Virgin, shal I alwayes liue in the flauerie and seruitude of this impure flesh of mine? And shal I euer be troubled and vexed with these vnchast cogitations, and impure apprehensions; which so macerate my vnwilling soule? Oh, thou eleuated and raysed aboue al pare creatures, most blessed Virgin, I say Blessed with al benediction! how long? Alas! how shal I sustaine the bodie of this death, this impure thistle of the bodie, with its thorns? Alas, when shal I be deliuered and rid therof?

THE IV. SYMBOL. THE VIOLET.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Violet is truly the Hermitesse of flowers,The Impresa affecting woods and forests, where, in a lowlie humilitie mixt with solicitude, she leads a life delicious in herself, though not so specious to the eye, because obscure. She is a great companion to the Primrose, and they little lesse then sworne si­sters; with whom, when she is disposed, she wil recreate herself whole nights and dayes; and you shal likely neuer find them farre asunder. When they are so in companie in the wood togeather, where [Page 39] she is bred and borne, they make an excellent ena­mel of blew and yelow; but being by herself alone, as in her celle, she is a right Amethyst. Had Iune been in quest; to seeke her Bird, as strayed in the woods, she would easily haue thought these purple Violets had been her Argoe's eyes, as shattered heere and there, and dropt downe from her Peacocks trayne; and so wel might hope to haue found her Bird againe, as Deere are traced by their footing. She is euen the Wanton among leaues, that playes the Bo-peep with such, as she is merrie and bold withal; whom when you think you haue caught, and haue now al­ready in your hand, she slips and leaues you mockt, while you haue but her scarf only, and not her self. She is the Anchoresse, sending forth a fragrant odour of her sactitie, where she is not seen; which she would hide ful faine, but can not. She is the Herald of the Spring, wearing the Azure-coat of Armes, and pro­claiming sweetly in her manner to the spectatours the new arriuall of the wel-come guest. She is the Primitiae or hastie present of Flora, to the whole Na­ture. Where if the Rose and Lillie, be the Queene and Ladie of Flowers, she wil be their lowlie hand­mayd, lying at their feet, and yet happely (for worth) be aduanced to lodge in the fayrest boso­mes, as soō as they; as being the onlie Faire affecting obscuritie and to lye hid, which other Beauties hate so much.

THE MORALS.

‘HVMI SERPENS EXTOLLOR HONORE.’

VIrginitie indeed is a specious and glo­rious thing,The Motto. and hath somewhat of the Angel with it: but yet nothing so hap­pie as Humilitie is, which hath in truth somewhat els withal, as it were Diuine. Virginitie and puritie inuited the Word to take vp his lodging in the Virginal womb; but Humilitie was it, that strook-vp the bargain between the Imma­culat Hostesse and the Diuine Guest. And hence arose the source of al her aduancements. The Angels are pure indeed, but lower then their nature is, they can not stoop; since Lucifer himself euen after his fal retained his nature stil, which he could not forgo: t [...]rice happie they, had they not aspired higher then they were indeed. But the Eternal Word could stoop so low, and really did, to be lesse then Angels. If pu­ritie then be a glorious, specious, and Angelical thing, Humilitie is a vertue more then Angelical, as being Diuine. The Angels would faine haue risen higher, but could not; they tryed their wings, and with that Iearus (that daring youth) had a shameful fal. But the purest of al Virgins in contemplation of the Eternal Word, readie to stoop so low, wheras she was to be truly the Queen of Angels, stiles heer herself the lowlie handmayd of our Lord; when creeping on the ground as low as might be, she came to be exalted to the highest dignitie next her Sonne, in human na­ture, and might worthily say: HVMI SERPENS EXTOL­LOR HONORE.

THE ESSAY.

ONE would think,The Reuiew. the Authour of Nature had made choice of the Violet, to couch his enamel, and to make the delicatnes of his pencil shine therin, and the fairest cou­lours of the world, to border the mantle of the Spring withal. There are some purple, but with the finest purple; some as snow, fashioned into litle flowers, like curdled milk, and blazoned as with Argent leaues, al sowen thick with little odoriferous starres: Others are of Ore musked, or of Violcts meta­morphosed into most sweet gold, cut into blossomes. There are some deckt with a hundred and a hundred leaues neatly fitted togeather, and al as grafted into one stemme, which casting themselues into a round and folding within one another through a sweet oeconomie, agree to frame and compose a very dayn­tie and delicious Violet, as faire as sweet, mingling, with a gentle confusion, a thousand coulours, which simpathize exceeding wel, and glad the eye. Behold the Violet of March and April; May and Iune haue theirs a-part, being of a changeable coulour, hauing the top and edge of purple, white in the midst, and guilded beneath in the bottome. What a maruelous enamel to see the argent, the purple, the Ore, and azure of the leaues, which shade round-about, al coming forth of a litle green tuft, from a litle sprig, with a string, that serues as a pipe for Nature to distil her musks, that breathe from thence. The leaues are somewhat round in their peering forth, and iagged; and then after extend they in length, and spread themselues. Their great vertue comes from a litle fire wel tem­pered in them, and a sweet heat, which is the predo­minant [Page 42] qualitie of their complexion, and makes them sweetly bitter. To renew their forces againe, when they are decaying, they steep them in vinagre; and it is incredible, the vertues these little flowers haue; for they mollify hardnes, alay heats, and extin­guish inflāmations: the iuyce softens the venter, dis­sipates and euacuats choler, sweetens the asperitie of the lights, alayes the fire that burns the breast; with infinit other things, most soueraigne for vse.

THE DISCOVRSE.

BEHOLD now the Violet, The Suruey. which after the Rose (the Queene of flowers) and the Lillie (the honour of gardens) I should think might follow wel in Our Ladyes Gar­den, as an excellēt Type or Symbol of her. It is flower wel knowne to al, familiar and dome­stical with al Nations. For where haue you a Garden, that hath not store of them? yea the woods togeather with the Primrose seeme to be as strewed with them as tapistryes; they are so diapred al-ouer with those flowers. And our glorious VIRGIN is as easie and familiar to approach vnto, as it. The honour of this Violet, is in the Spring; or rather is the Violet, the honour of the Spring. Because the hoarie & hor­rid Winter now passed ouer, and the rigid frosts and snowes dissolued, the pleasant season of the Spring returning, the Earth seemes to put forth the Violet, as the primitias of flowers, togeather with the Primrose her inseparable companion, to welcome it with; a hastie present indeed, but yet a rare one. The spring of Grace so appearing, and opening the breast, after so tedious a Winter ouerpast, of horrid Sinne and frozen Infidelitie, our MARIE the Violet, [Page 43] or the Violet-Marie rather, is put forth, as a ioyful present to glad the time withal.

This flower I find now to affect the hils and mountains, though there want no store and plentie of them in the plaines and vallies also; and, as gardi­ners vse to say, it loues to be transplanted to and fro. And so our Violet heer was no lesse transplanted in her Visitation, when she Rifing vp, went hastily into the mountains. For loe, this Violet sprung at first and grew in the vallies, to wit, of herself; but was then trans­ferred and remoued into the mountain of Perfec­tion, to the mountain of Glorie, mountain of Fame, Honour, and Exaltation: but yet was admi­rably planted in the valley of Humilitie. A strange thing truly, and more then a Garden-miracle, that our Violet should stil remaine in the valley, and yet be placed on a Mountain! yea the higher she was exalted on the Mountain, the better she was rooted in the Valley: both on the same Mountain, and in the same Valley, at one and the self-same time. Now, Philosopher, tel me, what would you more? can not the same thing be in two places at once? It may; MARIE on the Hil of exaltation, and the self-same MARIE in the Valley of demission, ful­filling therin the precept of the Wife-man: How much greater thou art, Eccles. do thou humble thyself in al.

And now see, I pray, the haste the Violet makes aboue al flowers, to entertaine the Spring; and then to behold our Violet made to clime the mountaines, would make you wonder, to see her in such haste. For who would not admire to see a tender Virgin, great with child, to fly from the valley, ouer hils and dales, through thick and thin, to the mountain-tops? But yet wonder [Page 44] not, while we dayly see great engins moued, and that most swiftly too, by force of fire: GOD is our consuming fire. Deut▪ 4. This fire then the Virgin carried in her bo­some; She is stirred and excited with the blast of the Holie-Ghost, vnto offices of pietie. The fire breaks forth; what maruel then, if it carries so the engine of the bodie with it? I say, what maruel, while the Spirit of GOD, whose Symbol is Fire, carries her so fast through publick places, to shun the aspect of men (so contrarie to the inclination of Virginal modestie) to hide herself in the house of her Cosen?

The Violet, as the Rose also, being planted neer the leek, or garlick, becomes more fragrant in odour; so as the vngrateful sent of the one, giues a sweeter fauour vnto the other; and therefore the Gardiner plants it neer vnto them, to haue it send forth a grea­ter odour. Now the Virgin-Mother being in herself a most odoriferous Violet aboue al other Violets and roses of the world, breathed from herself the sweetest odour of al vertues. The odour of her garments were as the odour of the fulfield. But in her house at Nazareth, which [...]ignifyes Flowerie, this Violet shined lesse, and, as a Vio­let, lay hid within her leaues. Wherefore it seemed good to the expert Gardiner, her heauenlie Spouse in her womb, to transferre this Violet with his Spirit in­to the mountains of Iudea, being places al set with garlick and leeks, as I may terme it; Where Zacharie and Elizabeth sat sheading of teares for the Redem­ptsion of Israel, the proper effect of those hearbs; which She through her coming wiped away, and further gaue forth a greater odour of sanctitie, then euer; for loe, she filled the whole house with the odour of her Vertues.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

IN Heauen the humble Angels GOD beheld;
The Pause.
And on the earth, with Angels paralel'd,
The lowlie Virgin viewd; Her modest eye,
Submissiue count'nance, thoughts that did relye
On him, that would exalt an humble wight,
And make his Mother. Alma, ne're in sight,
With vertues, fragrant odours, round beset,
Close to the earth lay like the Violet;
Which shrowded with its leaues, in couert lyes,
Found sooner by the sent, then by the eyes.
Such was the Virgin rays'd to be Heauens Queene,
Who on the earth neglected, was not seene.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contemplation. how, as Plinie sayth, the Violet is soueraigne against the Squinzi in the throat, the Catharre in the eyes, and Impostumes in the bodie. So S. Iohn Baptist was before his Sancti­fication, being as vlcerous and impo­stumat, as we al before Baptisme, through Original Sinne: Elizabeth continually powring forth teares, for the barrenes and sterilitie as wel of the Sina­gogue, as of herself: and Zacharie's throat being stopt with the squinzi of Infidelitie, so as he could not speake. MARIE the Violet entering into this Hos­pital, the impostume [...] of Iohn vanished, the defluxions of Elizabeth ceased, and Zacharie's squinzies were vnstopt; and finally health was restored to the whole house.

Consider then againe, how, as Plinie sayth, the seed of the Violet, is the infallible destruction of the Scorpion; then which, what more expresly in Symbo­lical Theologie declares the Mother of GOD to be a Violet? For this malediction was giuen by GOD against the accursed Serpent, from the first beginning: I wil put enmities between thee and the woman; and thy seed and her Seed; and she shal tread (or it shal tread) thy head. No seed more opposit to the Scorpion, then that of the Violet: nor none to the Serpent so much, as the Seed of the Virgin, IESVS.

Ponder lastly, how the Violet by some is called the Flower of the Trinitie; perhaps for the triple coulour which is found therin: for that, as in the Violet are seen the violet, the purple, and the golden coulour; and as those coulours in the natural, so in the Violet [Page 47] MARIE may you consider, the Violet coulour of Humilitie, the purple of her Chasti [...]e, and the golden coulour of Maternitie or Charitie in her; since her Charitie was the cause of her Maternitie, and consequently, she the Violet of a Trinitie.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Faire and goodlie Flower, the true Aurora of the Spring,The Colloquie the gladsome Herbinger of the Spring of grace, thou fairest of al flowers, and yet who holdst the lowest place, stil grounded in thy Nothing! O that this true contempt of my-self were planted once and rooted in the ground of my hart! that this lowlines of hart, I say, O La­die Violet, and humilitie of spirit, were imprinted for euer in my soule! Oh obtaine for me. Alas! due. I coniure and bes [...]e [...]h you to it, by al the reuerences and respects, which the Sonne of God, the Wisedome of the Father, hath yealded you in heauen; and which the Great GOD your Sonne no lesse hath afforded you on earth.

THE V. SYMBOL. THE HELIOTROPION.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Heliotropion is the loftie Cedar of flowers,The Impresa wherin the Sun, could he nestle himself, would choose of al the rest to build his neast; for birds, we know, breed where they hant most, and delight to harbour and conuerse in, al the day. It is euen the Eye, & nothing els but Eye, to behold the Sun; which she neuer shuts, til he sincks down in Tethis's bed; where being drowned ouer head and eares, she wincks and shrowds herself the while, in the thin eyelids of her leaues, to meditate vpon him. It is the Arsenal of [Page 49] crimson-flags displayed to the Pithian Apollo, in despite of Mars, whom she adores as God of Armes as wel as Books; wheras Mars, if you take him from his speare and shield, can neither write nor reade. It is the Gnomon of the Garden, a Dial artificially made in hearbs, to expresse al the howers of the day; a verie needle, pointing to its radiant Starre; which being so restles as it is, makes her as restles euerie whit; with this difference only, that he measures infinit degrees of Heauens, and she as manie points. It is a verie Mart of silks, sarcenets, taffeties, and satins, al of Gingeline in graine, because in fashion. If the Rose excel in sauour, which she professes not to vtter in her shop, she vowes to be more loyal and constant to her Paramour, then it. She is so amourous, & dotes so much vpon him, that she can not liue without his conuersation; which she hath so much, as she almost is turn'd and quite metamorphosied into him, and now become already in the Garden, what he is in his Zodiack, the true and real flower of the Sun, or Sun of Flowers, as he himself the Sun of starres, or that great Starre they cal a Sun. It is the true Alferes of hearbs, bearing vp the standard of Flora, amidst the rest of flowers; the Pharus, to direct the Gardē-Nimphs, whē they loose themselues in the labyrinth of flowrie knots or Maze of flowers: the Beacon al on fire, to giue warning to the rest of flowers of the arising of the Sun, to beware of his parching rayes, for feare of withering before their times. It is euen the Daphne of flowers, whom Phoehus followes al the day; and, if she fly, she hath her eye on her shoulder, to looke behind her, as she runnes.

THE MORALS.

‘AD ME CONVERSIO EIVS.’

PIctures likely are so framed, that be you in the roome,The Motto. in anie part, they wil seeme to look vpon you. Looke where the Panther is, in woods and forests, there wil commonly other beasts resort, to look and gaze vpon him; whether it be the beautie of his spotted coat, or sweetnes of his breath, which attracts, I know not; but this is sure, the effect is so, as I haue heard. The Turtle seemes to haue no eye but for his mate; and where they sit togeather, their eyes wil be as glued vpon each other. The Pole that drawes the Needle to it, the load-stone that attracts the iron, the ieat that puls the fescue, what is it el's but a natural instinct, or Moral rather I may say, of more then mutual loue that makes the one so powerfully to allure, and the other to be so easie and wiling to be drawne? This I am sure of, Vertue is so specious, and so goodlie a thing, that it drawes the eyes of al to look vpon her; and where they haue not harts to follow her faire steps, yet wil they stand to gaze vpon her, and admire at least. The litle IESVS lying in the Crib, like a Loadstone drew the Shepheards from their flocks, Kings from their peoples, a Starre from the rest of the fellowship of starres, yea euen the Angels from the Heauens, to sing a Gloria in excelsis vnto God, and peace to men: What trow you, but a secret instinct, that could be no lesse then Heauēlie and Di­uine, made so great a conuersion of Terrestrials and Celestials to a litle Infant? And as for the Mother her [Page 51] self, that held him in her lap the while, she before sitting in her little Nazareth obscure, drew so the eyes of the Almightie to her, that He could not choose, but so conuert himself vnto her, as to descend and lodge within her, and she truly say: AD ME CON­VERSIO EIVS.

THE ESSAY.

THE honour of our Gardens, and the miracle of flowers, at this day,The Reuiew. is the Heliotropion or Flower of the Sun; be it for the height of its stem, approaching to the heauens some cubits high; or beau­tie of the flower, being as big as a man's head, with a faire ruff on the neck; or, for the number of the leaues, or yellow, vying with the marigold; or, which is more, for al the qualities, nature, and properties of the Flower, which is to wheel about with the Sun; there being no Needle, that more punctually regards the Poles, then doth this Flower the glorious Sun. For in the morning it beholds his rising; in his iourney, attends vpon him; and eyeth him stil, wheresoeuer he goes; nor euer leaues following him, til he sink downe ouer head and eares in Tethis's bed, when not being able to behold him anie longer she droops and languishes, til he arise; and then followes him againe to his old lodging, as constantly as euer; with him it riseth, with him it falles, and with him riseth againe. Nature hath donne wel in not affording it anie odour at al; for with so much beautie and admirable singularities, had there been odour infused therinto, and the sweetnesse of odoriferous flowers withal, euen men, who [Page 52] are now half mad in adoring the same for its excel­lent guifts, would then haue been stark mad indeed, with doting vpon it. But Nature, it seemes, when first she framed a pattern for the rest, not being throughly resolued, what to make it, tree or flower, hauing brought her workmanship almost vnto the top, after a litle pause perhaps, at al aduenture put a flower vpon it, and so for haste, forgot to put the Musks into it. Whervpon, to countervaile her neglect heerin, the benigne Sol, of meer regard and true compassion, graced her by his frequent and assiduous looke with those golden rayes it hath. And as the Sun shewes himself to be enamoured with her, she, as reason would, is no lesse taken with his beautie, and by her wil (if by looks we may guesse of the wil) would faine be with him. But like an Estrich, with its leaues as wings, it makes vnprofitable offers, to mount vp vnto him, and to dwel with him; but being tyed by the root, it doth but offer, and no more. It is like the Scepter which the Payn [...]ms attribute to their Deitie, that beares an Eye on the top; while this flower is nothing els but an Eye, set on the point of its stem; not to regard the affayres of Mortals so much, as to eye the Immortal Sunne with its whole propension; the midle of which flower, where the seed is, as the white of the eye, is like a Turkie-carpet, or some finer cloth wrought with curious needle-work, which is al she hath to entertaine her Paramour.

THE DISCOVRSE.

COuld there be deuised a more noble Sym­bol of our Incomparable LADIE then this flower,The Suruey. regarding indeed the true Sunne [...] Iustice, whom she followed stil in the whol [...] course of her life, vnto her death? Therefore, whom [Page 53] we haue already represented, as a Rose, Lillie, and Violet, let vs now contemplate, as a true Heliotropion. Com­pare we then, first, by certain Analogies, the Sunne, being the king of Planets, with the Sunne of Iustice, King of the Sunne and Planets; and the Heliotropion, with the Virgin Marie, The Sun chief of Planets, fils the earth with his influences: the Sun of Iustice, the world, with the effects of his power. The Sun of Planets is the First cause, among the Seconds; the Sun of Iustice the First before them al; that trauerses al places, this pene­trates al harts; that lends his light to the moon and starres, this giues both life and being to al creatures. The Sun, the Planet, is the origin of life, the Sun of Iu­stice, life itself; that is soueraignly visible, this most soueraignly intelligible. In the Sun of Planets, is fruit­fulnes, light, and heat, essentially but one and the self same thing; and the Sun of Iustice, with the Father, and the Holie-Ghost, substantially is but One God. The Sun of Planets was neuer without these properties; nor the holie Diuinitie of the Sun of Iustice, without these Three eternal Persons. And for our Ladie herself, our faire Heliotropion, as the Sun of Planets illumines the Starres, so the Sun of Iustice enlightned her thoughts. The Sun of Planets, is the eye of the world, the ioy of the day, the glorie of heauens, the measure of times, the vertue of plants and flowers, the perfection of the starres: and the Sun of Iustice, is the eye of her thoughts, the ioy of her hart, the glorie of her soule, the rule of her desires, the vigour of her spirit, the maister of her loues, and euen the center of her pro­pensions. He was, I say, the obiect of her looks, the Monark of her wils, the thought of her thoughts, the light of her vnderstanding▪ and the absolute Mo­deratour of al her passions.

Looke where the Sun is, the Heliotropion, being [Page 54] nothing els but eye, hath the same stil cast vpon it: and so the Virgin had the eye of her soule, stil on the Sun of Iustice. Cant 1. 10. I to my beloued, and his conuersion to me. Ex­amine each day of her blessed life; runne ouer the howers, tel the quarters, discusse the moments, and you shal alwayes find her turned to the Sun. In her Natiuitie, an Heliotropion; in the Presentation, an Heliotro­pion; in the Annunciation, an Heliotropion; in the Purifica­tion, and euerie action, a true Heliotropion. For she ne­uer sayd, did, or thought anie thing, which she di­rected not to GOD as to the Authour, which she re­duced not to him as to the last end, which she be­gan not for his seruice, and finished not for his glo­rie, and lastly, wherin she followed not her Sonne, that true Sun of iustice, which is to be a true Heliotropion indeed. And for her bodilie eyes, she was directly so, when she stood dolourous by the tree of the Cros­se, on the top wherof was CHRIST the true Sun in­deed in the height of the Zodiack, as in his proper Orbe, whē not only with the face, but with the whole bodie also she regarded her Sonne, and with eyes fixt attentiuely indeed, beheld him fully: and as the flower Heliotropion is wont to flag with the leaues at the setting of the Sun, so likewise was she (had she been left only to the strength of nature) readie to fal and sinck to the ground, when her Sonne drooped.

Plinie wonders at the Holiotropion, for conuerting itself to the Sun, euen vnder a clowd, and that in the night also; but MARIE, our true Heliotropion heer, takes not her eye of Contemplation of from her Sonne so much as in the night. For manie Doctours most constantly hold her Contemplation was neuer interrupted so much as in her sleep; and that she slept in bodie, but waked in hart. I sleep, and my hart wakes. There was neuer knowne a time more clowdie, nor euer night more [Page 55] obscure then that, wherin the Sun of Iustice being set, the whole light seemed quite extinguished; nor anie, Heliotropion appeared in the Garden of the Church, so to gaze on the Sun vnder a clowd, but only those two beautiful Heliotropions, Iohn and MARIE; neuer crea­tures better resembled that flower, being of the self­same posture, of the same pale sad coulour, and with the whole countenance cast stil vpon him, and she especially, not taking off her eye from him, who was enwrapped in the clowd of Death.

Behold now this rare Heliotropion of Ours, euen at the point of death, as she lay a-dying; dying, doe I say, or sleeping rather? For if the death of anie mortal wight may be tearmed a sleep, surely that of the Mother of God is not to be called a death so much, as a sweet Sleep. She lyes in her death-bed, as burning al with loue, like a true Heliotropion turning to her Sonne, stil casting her eyes vpon him. I to my beloued, and his conuersion vnto me. The Eternal Father, like the Sun; darts most radiant beames of loue vpon her: she endea­uours of the other side; with reciprocal looks of loue, as darts; to returne to him the like, but sincks and fayles in the midst of the endeauour, and like a flower hangs downe the head, and dyes. With this kind of death, the Fathers of the Church, clients of that great Mother, affirme, she was translated from the earth, and assumpted into heauen.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

HEer you behold the handmaide of the Sunne,
The Pause.
That waites vpon him, as his stallions runne.
There in the Moone an other flower attends,
And followes her, that borrow'd brightnes sends
Vpon its gazing eyes. Eue, like this flower,
Was al for change. Her happines an howre
Continued not. Alas! 'twas altred soone;
Affected Deitie, was like the Moone,
Which she beheld. But Marie's thoughts were high,
Vpon the Sunne of Iustice fixt her eye;
Her Soule, with al her powers were stil theron,
As flowers & leaues of Heliotropion.

THE THEORIES.

CONTEMPLATE first,The Contem­plation. how as soone as the golden Sun peers and puts forth his head in the morning, the Heliotropion displayes itself to the Sunnie beames, circles with the Sun, and when he comes to the West, bowes downe the head, and sits with him. So MARIE, as sooneas CHRIST, the Sun of Iustice, arose in his nati­uitie, framed and composed her countenance to his, with him fetching her compas in the Zodiack of his life, she ordered her course, as it were, by the same coasts: by the South of Loue, when he redeemed man­kind; by the North of Patience, in so manie aduersities; by the East of Resignation, whē he satisfyed the Eternal Father, by his passion; and lastly in the West, in the set­ting of her Sonne the Sun, in her solitarie retirement til his glorious Resurrection, the new Aurora of the Eternal day.

Consider then, how we first conuert not ourselues to the Sun of Iustice, nor attract the rayes of the Diuine benignitie vnto vs: but he with a gracious cast of his beames, vpon the Heliotropion of our hart, excites the flower, and allures it to turne the face vnto it back againe. Conuert me, and I shal be conuerted, Ierem. 31. 18. sayth the Prophet. But the Mother of God, the true Heliotropion indeed, doth otherwise; and therefore, I to my beloued, that is, I conuert myself vnto him; and so it fol­lowes: and his conuersion vnto me.

Imagine you behold artificially painted, a IESVS [Page 58] sporting in his Mothers armes; looke which way you wil, of anie side, he alwayes seemes to haue his eyes cast vpon you. So surely the most sweet face of IESVS, whose eyes shine like starres, of their parts are alwayes conuerted towards thee; so as if thou per­ceauest not thyself to be especially regarded by them, it proceeds no whit from them, but from thy­self, who turnest away thy face, or dost not marke or eye them at al. Wheras our Heliotropion heer neuer ta­kes off her eyes frō her Sonne, Cant. but hath them alwayes cast vpon him: and therefore truly may say: I to my beloued, and his conuersion vnto me.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Fairest Virgin-flower! Thou most specious and amourous Heliotropion, more happie then the rest of flowers for those especial fauours from thy Spouse, The Colloquie being no lesse then the glorious and radiant Sun of Iustice. O gracious Queen of flowers! O Sacred Prodigie of al Gardens, and m [...]st stupendious Heliotropion, the mi­racle of Paradice, the amazement of Philosophie, wonder of Na­ture, fruitful Virgin. Virgin-Mother! O mediate for me, with thy amourous Sun, thy Sonne, and obtaine for me, through thy example, I may become a true Heliotropion, with mine eyes stil cast vpon thee my obiect, and may receaue like glances from that al-seing Eye.

THE VI. SYMBOL. THE DEAW.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Deawes are the sugred stillicids of Nature,The Impresa falling from the Limbeck of the Heauens, as so manie liquid pearls, and euerie pearl as precious as the truest Margarits. They are liquifyed Cristal, made into so manie siluer-orbs as drops. They are the verie teares of Nature, dissolued & soft through tendernes, to see the Earth so made a Libian Desert, which she supplies of meer compassion with the ruine of herself. No teare she sheads, that stāds her not in as much, as a drop of her deerest bloud. They [Page 60] are the grayne & seed, once reaped from the Ocean fields, and sowne againe vpon the Earth, for a better haruest. They are the sweatie drops of Tethis face, which the benigne Sol exhales & wipes away for the vse of Tellus. They are the Māna of Nature, to vye with those Corianders, food of Pilgrims, made by Angels: with this vnhappines, they could not be cōgealed, to make a food so much for mē, as a Nectar for the plāts to drink. They are the Protheus of fresh waters, diuer­sifying into as manie coulours, as they light vpon; and are so courtlie withal, as they wil easily comply with euerie thing they meete with; and likely seeme to put-on the forme, the garb, and qualities of euerie one: so as I verily beleeue, had they but toungs to speake, they would say the same with euerie one, that can so temporize with al. And as the showres were wrung and drawne from Magdalen through contrition of her sad and clowdie hart: so these Deawes are wrung and strained from heauen, through compression and mutual collision of the clowds. The Bees are the most laborious and industrious Factours for these Pearls; and they wil venture for them, as farre into the ayre, as any Moor shal diue into the seas for the best pearls. In fine, they are the Milk of Nature, wherewith she is disposed to suckle creatures at her owne breast.

THE MORALS.

‘RORE MADENS, RORE LIQVESCENS.’

THE sweats of that great Monark,The Motto. were held to be perfumes; and why? Perhaps because they took some Deitie to be in him, for his so strange and pro­digious Conquests. The trees that haue a gummie & viscous lickour in them, looke what they haue within, the same they oft put forth; and if they sweat at al, they sweat but gummes. The Spouse, when he knockt so long at his Spouses doore, and could not be let in, was al wet with Deawes from heauen; and no maruel, that Deawes should fal on him, from whom al Deawes pro­ceed; since Deawes exhaled from the earth, do thither distil againe. When the Sauiour of the world was borne, arose a Spring of oyle, to signify the infused Oyle of Grace was then powred forth into the world. And what is Oyle in drops, but Deawes of oyle? and what is it to spring, but to ascend vpwards? what to Deaw, but to spring downe? Our Sauiour then being Oyle of Grace, was dissolued al into Deawes of graces, when he was borne. In this, looke what the Sonne was, the same the Mother is, with this difference, He the Fountaine of Grace and Mercie essentially the same, she the fountaine likewise, but participant of his; and as He through her distils downe Deawes of Grace and Mercie: so she from him distils the self­same Deawes of Grace and Mercie; and therefore rightly RORE MADENS, RORE LI­QVESCENS.

THE ESSAY.

HEER now,The Re [...]iew. must I needs confesse mine ignorance; for otherwise should I loose myself, in considering of the one side, the accompt which GOD and Nature make of the Deaw; and of the other, the poornes of this litle creature in itself. The voice of men, that set it forth, is more rich and copious farre, then what soeuer is in the Deaw ilself; it is but euen a litle fume, and oftentimes an vnholesome exhalation raysed from some corrupt marishes or other, drawne-vp to the second stage of the Ayre (being the Matrice as it were of Nature, whence hayls, snowes, frosts, and the like proced) if it arriue so high; where being dissolued, and recollecting itself, within a litle after thickens and turnes into litle teares, which falling downe againe, affords vs nothing but a meer Seren infected, and breeds often very mortal catharres, lighting on our heads. See now a trim and goodlie thing, for vs to make such reckoning of. And yet how manie treasures doe I see enclosed within these litle drops, within these graines of Cristal liquifyed? What think you thē, is it ought els, then a litle water? Oh, do no think so of it; for if Plinie say true, that the Deaw takes the qualitie of the thing it lights on, that which to you seemes to be a water only, is Sugar in the Reeds of Madera, Hypocras in the vine, Manna in the fruits, Musk in the flowers, Medicines in the Simples, Amber in the Poplers, the verie milk of the breasts of Nature, wherewith she nourisheth the Vni­uers. The Deaw it is which falling on our gardens, [Page 63] empearls them with a thousand muskie gemmes: Heer it makes the Rose, there the Flower deluce; heer the Tulips, there the violets; and a hundred thou­sand flowers besides. It is the Deaw, that couers the rose with scarlet, that clothes the lillie with innocē ­cie, the violets with purple, which embroders the marygold with gold, and enriches al the flowers with gold, silk, and pearls, that metamorphosies it­self, heere into flowers, there into leaues, and then to fruits in sundrie sorts; it is euen the Protheus and Cha­maeleon of creatures, clothing itself with the liuerie of al the rarest things; heer scarlet, there milk, heer the emerald, the carbuncle, gold, siluer, and the rest.

THE DISCOVRSE.

BVt now come we to the mystical Deaw indeed,The Suruey. the Incomparable Ladie & Queene of al the Meteors of this Region of ours, or of the other, the thereal or Celestial. Who if she were not the Deaw itself, she was the Fle [...]ce al steept in Deaw, and consequently may wel be held for Deaw; for she is sayd to be ful of Grace, which is a kind of Deaw. The Deaw is properly engendred in the spaces and regions of the Ayre, tempered with heat and cold. Three Regions there are: The Heauens, the World, and Hel. This Deaw of Grace, was not engendred in the vpper Region, that is, in Heauen; nor was the work of the Incarnation of CHRIST effectually wrought therin, because he as­sumed not the Angelical nature: He apprehended not the Angels; 2. Pet 2. Nor beneath, that is, in Hel: because he re­deemed not Diuels, or spared thē, or shewed mercie to them: God pardoned not the Angels sinning; Gal. 4. But it was [Page 64] engendred in the midst, that is, the Incarnation was wrought in this middle Region. because therin the Diuine hypostastis assumpted human nature to itself. God sent his Sonne made of a woman. Now was this Deawing or Incar­nation made, as I sayd, of hot & cold. For God vouchsa­fed to become Man, for two respects, that is, out of a­bundāce of charitie, of the one side, which was exces­siue heat, and out of a general miserie of ours, which was a kind of benumming cold. From this heat ther­fore, to wit, from this Charitie of GOD, and from this cold, the general miserie of mankind, was wrought roration or Deawing, that is, the Incarnation of the Sonne of God; with this onlie difference, that there, was a temperate heat and cold togeather, but heer a heat,Ephes. 2 with a great excesse, through his too much charitie, wherewith he loued vs, and a great frigiditie of languour in vs,Psal. or a languishing frigiditie: Because al haue declined, and are become vnprofitable.

Moreouer, this roration or Deaw we speake of, was made in our Virgin-earth, who being watered with Celestial Deaw, brings forth the Nazaraean flower, that sayth of himself: I am the flower of the field. Againe: Let flow thy speech like Deaw, and as drops vpon the gras. To which the Church alluding sayth: Let him descend into the Virgins womb like Deaw therin. [...]see 14. This earth therefore so moystned and watered with Deaw, produced the Lillie of Paradice. I the Deaw of Israel budding like the Lillie. This Israel is interpreted a man seing God, and heer signifyes our incomparable Ladie, who was truly Masculin in al her actions, beholding, as it were, the Diuine Essence, through Contemplation.

I wil now then maruel no more, that GOD leauing al other creatures, should take complacencie as he doth to be the Father of Deawes, the Scriptures saying: Who begat the drops of deaw? Iob 38. and who is the Father of rayne? [Page 65] You would say, he meāt that there is nothing, which better represents the Diuine generatiō of the Sonne, which is begotten of the Father by way of Vnder­standing; from whence as from a fruitful clowd, distils the Diuine Deaw of the Word: Let my word flow like deaw. But for the Incarnation itself, it seemes to be iust the verie same. For the Sun of the Diuinitie therin vnited to the little poore vapour of our mortalitie hath fertilizd this beautiful Paradice of the Church, the Deaw watering the same, which fel from the Fiue Wounds of IESVS, that deawie clowd suspended in the ayre, and hanging on the tree of the Crosse.

Hence it is, that GOD makes so great accompt of this Deaw; for when he would make a feast for his people, in the wildernes, he did it by meanes of the Deaw, which was then conuerted into Manna, and Manna virtually into al meats. And if GOD would make him a chamber al of gold, or a cabinet for him­self, surely he would choose the Deaw to be his house: Who puts the clowds his bower &c. Psal. God makes as exact esteeme of a simple drop of Deaw, as of al the world besides. Before thee (sayth Salomon) is the whole world as a drop of morning-deaw. You wonder now at a smal mat­ter; but I wil tel you yet a thing more strange, which is, that since the Sonne GOD of a litle graine of mu­stard sayes: The kingdome of heauen is like to a graine of mu­stard-seed &c. me thinks, I might say as wel: The king­dome of heauen is like to a drop of Deaw: For the Sauiour of the world, who is the graine of mustard-seed, is like­wise this same rich drop of Deaw. For as the Sonne of God in outward apparance was, as it were, no bodie, nor seemed to make anie shew, yet when the Sun of the Diuinitie once began to appeare in him, he shewed himself to be the vertue of Paradice, euen so a little drop of Deaw falling from the heauens, for example, [Page 66] on the Flowerdeluce, would seeme perharps to you but a little round point of water, and a meer graine of Cristal, but if the Sun do but shine vpon it, Ah! what a miracle of beautie it is? while of the one side it wil looke like an Orient-pearl, and being turnd some other way, becomes a glowing Carbuncle, then a Sa­phir, and after an Emerald, and so an Amethist, and al enclosed in a nothing, or a litle glasse of al the greatest beauties of the world, that seeme to be engraued therin; so manie drops, so manie Orient-pearls, so manie drops of Manna, wherewith the Heauens seeme to nourish the earth, and to enrich Nature, as being the Symbol of the Graces, wherewith GOD doth water and fertilize our soules.

For what should that Flcece of Gedeon signify, but the Grace of graces, the admirable grace of the Incar­nation of Christ to be wrought in the conception of the Diuine Word, in the virginal womb or fleece of the said Gedeon, which was replenished with the Deaw of the Holie-Ghost, in liew of the verie Deaw; that is, where descended the fulnes of the Diuinitie, she being worthily called and compared to a fleece, since she hath cloathed the true Lamb of God with her flesh, who takes away the sines of the world? O Virgin wor­thie of al grace! How art thou graced indeed, and fa­uoured aboue al the Daughters of Ierusalem! since thy head, IESVS CHRIST, came so to thee, ful of Deaw, and reposes in thy chast bower?

THE EMBLEME.

Benedicta inter mulieres. lucae. c. i.

THE POESIE.

NOt like a duskie clowde,
The Pause.
which Sol exhales,
Nor like a gloomie mist, that shrowdes the vales:
But from the Earth, the Sunne of Iustice drew
A purer vapour, which dissolu'd the Deaw,
Distilling from the Limbeck of the skies,
Our drie & barren Earth doth fertilize.
The barren womb erst was accurst; but she,
Though Virgin, was a faire & fruitful tree.
Women bring forth with paineful throbs & throwes;
She was a Mother, but not one of those.
Mongst women blest, drawne by heauens radiant beames,
Twixt clowd & mist, pure Deaw twixt both extreames.

THE THEORIES.

COnsider first, that as Eue our first Parent and Mother of vs al, was not created immediatly of earth,The Contem­plation. as Adam was, but taken from his rib (it being a priui­ledge only due to Adam, so to be framed of virgin-earth) and was therefore called Virago, fet­ching her extraction as it were a Viro: So our second Eue, our Spiritual and Celestial Mother, adopting vs, & engendring vs as children, through the Deawes of Celestial graces procured vs from heauen, was not made of virgin-extraction herself, that is, was not framed of the Diuine or Angelical nature, as a Deaw exhaled from the virgin-element of waters, but of the pure human nature, as drawn from the mixt, bit­ter, and brackish waues of the Sea, by that great Ar­chitect of heauen, the Sun of Iustice, giuing her the name of MARIA, to wit, a mari amaritudinis, as it were, fetcht from the Ocean of bitternes of human kind. And now with her graces and fauours, as Deawes fal­ling from heauen, perpetually doth nothing, but showre downe vpon her children and Deuotes.

Consider then, how our Ladie became as a marine Coucha, or Oyster of the Sea, which opens itself to receaue the heauenlie Deaw into her Lap, that so the precious Gemme might be engendred in it, which when it hath receaued once, it closeth vp againe, not to loose so precious a depositum, til it be fairely deli­uered, and brought forth in time prefixed. Euen so our incomparable Ladie, the precious vessel of so heauenlie and Diuine a Deaw, hauing once conce aued the same within her virginal Womb, retires herself into her Nazareth, to ruminate on the mysterie she [Page 69] had within her, vntil necessitie drew her to Bethleem and the time prefixed of the deliuerie of her fruit was come; for then as purely as she receaued it, she gaue it vp most perfect and compleat, and made therof a rich present to the world.

Ponder lastly, how the Deaw being a meer extract from the Seas, exhaled by the vertue of the Sunnie rayes, which when he can hold no longer, lets it fal to cōfort and refresh al fublunarie things, and drawing it againe vnto himself, lets it fal againe for the same end; and so wil do, to the end of the world, for the comfort and solace of man-kind. So the humanitie of our Sauiour Christ, as a waterie Deaw, being extrac­ted from the virgin Marie (amaro mari) and through the Sunnie rayes of the Diuinitie assumpted vp to heauen in the glorious Ascension, through loue not able to stay any longer, descends againe in the bles­sed Sacrament, to recreate and refresh vs Mortals, & so as often as we desire, is readie to visit vs with his supercelestial and diuine Deaw, and thus til the con­summation of the world.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Thou great Ladie, Mother of grace and mercie, The Coll [...]quie. who in a strange and maruelous manner hast been repleni­shed with the Deaw of grace in a soueraigne degree; I beseech thee, intercede for me, that I may likewise be replenished & filled with grace, feruour, loue, and the Diuine delights of thy Soune, whom thou receauedst from heaven as the Deaw fallen into thy virgin-lap. And this I beg O blessed virgin-Mother, through the virginal milk, wherewith thou fedst that little great GOD in person; and by the teares of ioy thou sheadst for the deare em­braces of so great a Sonne of thine; and by al the sweetnesses of his Diuinitie, which made thy blessed soule to liquify with ioy. O Ladie, O virgin-Mother, O my sweet Aduocate, to thee do I re­curre to impetrate these grates for me, at his hands, who sitting on thy lap, and hanging at thy breasts, can deny thee nothing.

THE VII. SYMBOL. THE BEE.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THe Bee is that great little Architect of houses made of wax,The, Impre­sa. as of playster of Paris, al ciment, and no stone, while you find not a stone or rub in al his works. He is a great Enginer in that mould, working his subtle mines til he be al in a sweat, which in truth is no more then a moisture he hath with him through his so much padling, and medling with deawes. It is a world to see, what mines and countermines they wil make amongst them, to sup­plant one another, whervpon manie suits of law arise [Page 71] between them. For you must know, they haue a no­table gouerment, and a wise and politick reason of State with them, which though it may seeme to par­take of al, yet is in truth a pure Monarchal rule, and surely the best. As the Venetians haue their Duke or Doague, they haue their King, enthroned doubtles and inuested with a more absolute authoritie then he, and yet not apt to slide or degenerate to Tyranie, as some would imagine. And if the Venetians haue their Senat and Magnificoes, they haue the same. The King for sword of iustice, hath his sting, which he weares for terrour rather then vse, whose best armes is a certain sweet and serene Maiestie with him, which makes him loued rather then feared, if not feared for loue: yet were anie so refractarie as not to loue so sweet a Maiestie, he could tel, how to bend the brow. He is then the great Dictatour aboue al, and true Augustus Caesar of that great Common wealth of little Romans. The Bee of al others makes his vintage in the Spring, because his chiefest haruest is [...]n the sugred deawes, that fal vpon the tender blos­somes, at that time, wherof part they tunne vp in pi­ [...]es, for the purpose, to brew their meade with, a­gainst the winter; and churning the rest as handsom­ [...] as they may, they make it into a kind of butter, [...]e cal honie, which they crock and barrel vp for [...]reatest marchandise. They are but Pigmies, in [...]espect of the Giants amongst them, whom for their [...]undring voice, they cal humble-bees. Nor can you [...]now the rest by their voices only, while the least [...]il carrie as great a horn about him, as the biggest [...]f them. They are notable husbands abroad, and [...]ood huswiues at home; for so they are both, or [...]either, as hanieg no sex amongst them; [...]hich if they haue, they are Mayds, or Bachelours [Page 72] euerie one, because they haue no marriages with them, as liuing very chastly togeather like so manie Angels.

THE MORALS.

‘OPEROSA ET SEDVLA.’

LAbour and Industrie are Brother & Sister,The Motto. dwelling in the same house. He is strong and robustuous with Atlas shoulders; She as quick and nimble of the other side. It is incre­dible, what these two are able to do, when they ioyne togeather; they wil work wonders, moue mountains, and runne through stitch with e­uerie thing. Rome indeed was not built on a day, but yet with labour and industrie in short time became the Metropolis of the whole world. What a work was that, which the infamous Incendiarie, to eternize his name, ruined in a moment, which Labour and Indu­strie had reared-vp from the verie foundation to the roofe? The great Mausoleas, Amphitheaters, Pira­mids (and what not?) haue al been built and finished by them. If Labour once fayle, Industrie anon rouze [...] him vp: and then wil they roundly fal to their wor [...] as fresh as euer. Wheresoeuer they meet, he is the Bodie, and she the Soule; and as the Bodie and Soul [...] can not be diuided without ruine of the person, [...] Labour without Industrie is no bodie, and wil pre­sently come to nought. The Grace of the Holie-Ghos [...] wheresoeuer it is, is Industrie itself, and knowes [...] delayes; it is as gun-powder set on fire, which carries the bullet, though of lead, more swift then an arrow where it goes. The tender Virgin-Mother of God had [Page 73] [...]his powder of Industrie in her, when conceauing with fire, through the match of Fiat, she flew so [...]imbly ouer hils and dales to her Cosen Elizabeth, the subiect of Charitie; wherin truly she shewed herself OPEROSA ET SEDVLA.

THE ESSAY.

The Bee is the greatest Politick in the world;The Reuiew. the gouerment of their litle com­mō-wealth is most admirable. The King is he that hath the best prēsēce with him, & a Royal looke; al his subiects obey him with submission & reuerence, not doing anie thing against their oath of alleageance. The King himself is armed with Maiestie and beautie; if he haue a sting, he neuer makes vse of it, in the whole manage of his estate. He carryes nothing but honie in his cōmands; one would not beleeue the great seueritie and cour­tesie there is amongst them, liuing in communitie, with good intelligences abroad, al goes with them with weight and measure, without errour or mista­kings. In the winter they keep wholy within, not knowing otherwise how to defend themselues from the force of the weather and violence of the winds, & hold their little assemblies, in some place deputed for that effect, and keep correspondencies one with another; but for the drones and idle bees, they banish them quite from their common-wealth. They com­mit not themselues to the discretion of the weather abroad, vntil such time as the beanes begin to blowe, and from that time they wil loose no day from labour. They frame the wax from the iuice which they suck from flowers, hearbs, and trees; and for honie they deriue it also from trees & gom­mie [Page 74] reeds, hauing a glue and viscous lickour on thē. They wil make their wax likewise of euerie herb and flower; saue only, they neuer light on a dead or withe­red one. Their sting is fastned in their bellie; and when they stick it so, as they cannot draw it forth againe without leauing the instrument behind, they dy of it; and if the sting remaine but half, they liue as castrat, and become as droans, not being able to ga­ther either honie or wax.

THE DISCOVRSE.

THE mellifluous Doctour S. Ambrose, The Suruey. in his sweet booke of Virgins, sayth: the Bee feeds of the deaw, engenders not at al, and frames the honie. Which three properties peculiarly and singularly appertaine to Virgins; but most expresly and subli­mely of al to the Sacred Virgin herself, the Queen of Vir­gins. For as al other creatures liue of the earth or wa­ter, as birds, beasts, and fishes, some few excepted, to wit, the Camaeleon of the ayre, and the Salamander of the fire; the Bee, as a choicer creature, more cu­rious then the rest, feeds no worse then of the deaw, that falles from Heauen; and wheras al other creatu­res (not bred of putrefaction) are subiect to libidi­nous heat in their kinds, the Bee is free therof, and multiplies by a way more chast; and where other creatures are wholy maintained at their Maister's charge, and some wil eate you more then their bo­dies are worth, or their labour comes to, the Bee ma­kes its owne prouision of itself, and leaues his owner rich with the bootie and spoyle they make of the flowers of the field, without anie cost or charge of the Maister; so industrious they are, to the great con­fusion [Page 75] of men. Iust so our Ladie, not taken with the bayts and allurements of this world, for spiritual life, liued not but of the heauenlie deaw of Diuine grace; being capable of no other heat, then of the chast and amourous fire of Diuine Loue; not concea­uing Fruit, but by an admirable, mysterious, and mi­raculous way, through the work of the Holie-Ghost, remaining a Virgin before, in, and after her Child­birth; and lastly framed without anie cost or merits of ours, that Honie of honies, that Honie-comb distilling, which carries the honie in his lips.

The honie indeed is engendred in the ayre through the fauour and influence of certain starres; as in the Canicular dayes, we may note betimes in the mor­ning, the leaues to be charged and sugred with it. Such as go forth at that time, before day, shal find themselues to be moistned therewith, which the Bees suck from the leaues and flowers, and tunne-vp in their little stomaks, to discharge againe, and to make it perfect honie in al points, for the vse of men. So our incomparable Virgin receauing this Deaw or honie of the Eternal Word, as it came from Heauen, into her Virginal womb, so wrought it in her, as being deliuered therof, it proued a honie most apt for the vse of man; the true Bread of Life indeed. Most happie Bee! and a thousand times most blessed HONIE!

Where it is to be noted, that Bees are exceedingly delighted with these things: first, with faire & serene weather; for then those deawes more plentifully fal & are more delicious: and of the contrarie in the raynie & more boysterous weather they are wholy hindered from their vintage, as it were, or gathering those su­gred deawes. Secondly, they are pleased much with abundance of flowers; from whence they gather [Page 76] their purest honie; for though the deawes fal vpon the leaues, and they gather it no doubt from them also, yet is it not so delicious and pure; for the na­ture of deawes participats much of the places they light on, which makes the Bee farre more busie and industrious on the flower, then on the leaues. Third­ly, they are wonne with a sweet sound. For Aristotle sayth, they are exceedingly allured with the harmo­nie of musick and sweet sounds; which we ordinarily practise now adayes, to stay them with, when they are in a great consult to take their flight and be gone; for then with the striking of a pan only insteed of other musick are they brought to settle themselues neer home; so Musical they are. And lastly, they ioy greatly insweet wine, as we find by experience and daylie practise, as often as they begin to swarme, & are now on the wing and point to trauel into forren parts.

Al these things the Blessed Virgin was exceedingly affected to, and had them al, as it were, within her; as first a serenitie in the internal conscience, where appeared no clowd in the ayre of her Mind, and where the pacifical Salomon sat peacefully indeed as in his Iuorie Throne. Al the glorie of the King's daughter, was wholy within her. Then had she the flowers of al Vertues and Graces within her, to wit, the diuer­sities of al vertues, the lillies of chastitie, the blush and mo [...]estie of the rose, the hope of the Violet, the charicie and Diuine loue of the Heliotropion, and the like. Her soule was a Garden of al flowers, and no lesse then a Paradise, which had the Archangel as Paranimph & Guardian therof, with the two-edged sword of Hu­militie and the chast Feare of God. O delicious Pa­radise, and more then terrestrial, euen when she was dwelling on the earth! Thirdly she was affected to [Page 77] Musick, and very rare and singular therin, as appea­res by that excellent and melodious Canticle of hers, the Diuine Magni [...]at, so chanted now adayes in the world, and taken-vp in the Church, for an admirable peece of that Art, to vye with the Angels, the Che­rubins, and Seraphins themselues, to frame the like. Nor yet was she so pleased, to heare herself sing only, as to listen to her Spouse, the voice of her beloued knocking and saying: My sister, open vnto me; to whom she would answer againe: Behold, my beloued speaks vnto me. Oh let thy voice stil sound in mine eares! and a thousand other af­fects of her Musical hart would she dayly sing be­sides to the Angelical troups, which enuironed her round. And lastly for her loue to wine, that is, to the Angelical Nectar, she was dayly feasted with, of spiritual gladnes, as tasts before hand, of her fu­ture ioyes, which might appeare by the quantitie she tooke of those wines, and the qualitie againe by the frequent extasies of loue she would breake into, remaining in her Closet, as we may piously beleeue, being inebriated therewith.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

TO Bethlem's sillie shed,
The Pause.
me thinkes I see
The Virgin hasten like a busie Bee;
Which in a tempest subiect to be blowne,
In lieu of ballast, beares a little stone;
As 'twere with oares beats to and fro his wings,
Collects heauens deaw, which to the hiue he brings.
Within that store-house lyes the daylie frait.
Lets fal the stone, Euen so of greater weight,
Cut without hands, the Virgin now is gone
To lay the prime and fundamental stone,
Heauens Deaw condens'd was in the honie-comb.
She was the Bee, the Hiue her Sacred Womb.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. how little soeuer the Bee seemes, yet how great its excellen­cies and eminencies are; and measure not the singular properties it hath, with the outward shew it giues forth. For though it seeme no more indeed, then as raysed but a little higher then an ordinarie fly; yet is it a mi­racle in nature, an astonishment to men, and a liuelie Symbol of our Blessed Ladie; who being so singular and eminent in al prerogatiues and graces, Celestial and Diuine, made no greater a shew, then she did in being so priuate in her Closet or Oratorie, where she was, as a Bee, in her Cel a-framing the delicious honie of her admirable examples of life, to sweeten the world with, for after-ages. Where you may note her stupen­duous humilitie, that seing herself elected the Mother of God, and consequently the Queene of Angels and men, yet held herself to be no more then as a seruiceable Bee, to worke the precious honie of Man's Redemp­tion, in her Virginal Womb, when she sayd: Behold the hand-mayd of our Lord.

Consider then, that as one of the properties of the Bee is, when it is on the wing, and feares to be car­ried away with the winds of the ayre, to take vp a stone, to keep itself steadie therin, through the poyse therof: So our blessed Virgin, in her highest contem­plation of heauenlie mysteries, which was frequent and ordinarie with her, would take herself to her little Iesus, the mystical stone (for Christ was a Stone) for feare of being carryed away with the wind of vanitie;S. Paul she would fly and soare aloft, but yet hold her to her little Nothing, which she [Page 80] euer tooke herself to be. O admirable humilitie of our incomparable and industrious Bee!

Ponder lastly, that if the Bee is so admired for its singular guists of Continencie, of Policie, and Indu­strie, and especially so affected by al men for the be­nefit of the honie they receaue from it; how admira­ble needes must the blessed Virgin be? so chast, as to be the first, and onlie patterne of al Chastitie, both Vir­ginal, Coniugal, and Vidual; so wise, politick, & wel­gouerned in herself, to haue Sensualitie so obedient to Reason, and Reason to GOD, as to haue no deor­dination in her, either of the inferiour to the supe­riour part; and so industrious withal, as to work so exquisit a loome of al Perfection, as wel Human as Angelical, in the whole course of her diuine life. Yea how ought she to be honoured and worshipped of vs al, for the Celestial & Diuine fruit she brought vs forth, that mellifluous Honie of the Diuine Word Incarnate and made Man in her most precious and sacred Wombe?

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Great Monarkesse and Princesse of intercession in heauen,The Colloquie most constant and immoueable in thy Virginal purpose, who hadst rather not to haue been so great in the kingdome of God, then to falsify thy promise & vow of perpetual Virginitie, if in being the Mother of God, the same had been put in the least danger: O help me then to guard this inestimable treasure of Chastitie in my state of life! by that sweetest Honie-comb thou hredst within thee, and broughtst into the world, thy deerest Sonne. Ah, let me not be perfidious, disloyal, or a breaker of my faith, nor rash in my good purposes made to His Diuine Maiestie. For that, O soueraigne Ladie, displeases him highly, and offends thee likewise, deare Princesse of Virgin-soules.

THE VIII. SYMBOL. THE HEAVENS.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Heauens are the glorious Pallace of the Soueraigne Creatour of al things;The Impresa the purple Canopie of the Earth, powdred ouer and beset with siluer-oes; or rather an Azure Vault enameld al with diamants, that sparckle where they are. And for that there is aloft aboue this seeling, they make a pauiment likewise for the Intelligences and Angelical Spirits, strewed, as become such inha­bitants, with starres. It is a Court, where those blessed Spirits, as Pensioners, stand continually assisting in the King's presence, with the fauour to behold him [Page 82] to face in his greatest glorie, while the Starres as Pages attend in those spacious Hals & lower roomes. If al togeather, should make vp the bodie of an Ar­mie ranged and marshalled in the field, the Spirits themselues would make the Caualrie, and the Infan­terie the Starres, S. Muhael General of the one, and Phoebus of the other; where euen as the Foot, that are as the Corps of the whole Batallions, make a stand; so remaine the whole multitude of Starres al fixt in the Firmament, while the Planets, which are as the Collonels of the rest, with the speedie Coursers of their proper Orbs, fly vp and down to marshal the Legions, and to keepe the Companies in their due squadrons. If they shoot, their shafts and darts, they send, are but their influences they powre on mor­tals and terrene things, good and bad; some sweet, of loue; as those which Venus shoots from her Regi­ment, headed with gold; some with steel, as those of Mars, and his troups; and some againe, as more ma­lignant, dipt in venome, as those of Saturn and the Caniculars. As the Earth hath beasts, the Heauens haue their Lion and Beare, the great and lesse. Where the Sea hath fish, the Heauens haue theirs, and waters enough, as wel aboue as vnder the Firmament. As the Ayre hath birds, the Heauens haue Angels, as birds of Paradise. And if the vpper Region of the Elements be of fire, the Seraphins are al of amou­rous fires of Diuine loue, and the highest order of the blessed Spirits.

THE MORALS.

‘CAPACITATIS IMMENSAE.’

THat great Galleasse or Argosey of Noe clapt vnder hatches the Epitome of the world;The Mott [...]. which yet virtually contained that vast volume or tome of the greater World. The Troyan horse held a whole Ambuscado in his bellie of warlick Grecians in com­pleat armour. Yea the Eye of man, though de facto it reach no farther then the Hemisphere only, yet of it­self is able to extend to the ful immensitie of the whole Sphear, were it placed as Center therof, But that were to make the Heauens the visible Obiect of the Eye only: I wil then go further. The Hart of man as it is, how litle soeuer, if it be wel purged, is able to walke through the heauenlie vaults, both aboue and beneath; I meane, contemplate the Starres and Spirits themselues, with the immense capacitie of that wast dwelling of theirs. But what were al this but a meer extension and perlustration of the mind only, wholy occupyed in measuring Intellectual Obiects? It is the Local continencie, I meane, as the kernel is contained in the shel, and the like. I say that great Amphitheater of Pompey was but a nut­shel, as it were, of so manie sonnes of men, compa­red with the Globe of the Earth, and the earth with the Zodiack of the Sun, and the Sun againe being pa­raleld with GOD himself. It is GOD only, who truly beholds al Obiects, both Intellectual and Visi­ble; and truly containes them al, being present to al, comprehends al, is Al in Al. And yet this great AL, whom the Heauen of Heauens can not cōtaine, hath [Page 84] the Virgin-Womb of the immaculate Mother of God conceaned and held in her lap, as the Church sings; an therefore is sayd to be, and that most rightly, and worthily too, CAPACITATIS IMMENSAE.

THE ESSAY.

THe Heauens with their circuit,The Reuiew. cloathe and mantle al the world, & with the sweetnes of their influences nourish the same, and distil a life into it. They are the House of GOD; the floare and paui­ment of Paradise; the Garden of the Angels, al beset with starres insteed of flowers, with an eter­nal Spring; the Temple of the Diuinitie; and the azured Vault of the Vniuers. The number of the Heauens hath not alwayes been agreed vpon; for one while they beleeued, there was but one onlie, wher­in the [...]tarres did sweetly glide heer and there, and glance along, as in a liquid cristal floud. Sometimes haue they allowed of eight, by reason of so manie diuers Motions and Agitations very different in them; then nine; then ten, and then eleuen; and if perhaps some new Gal [...]laeus should deuise and frame vs other spectacles or opticons to see with, we are in danger to find out yet some new Starres and Heauens neuer dreamed of before. This round Machine makes its circular reuolutions through an vnspea­kable swiftnes. But that is a meer tale, which Plato tels, to busie mens braynes with, to say, the Starres and Heauens yeald a sound or delicicus melodie through their motion and stirring vp and downe; whereas truly the sweet sliding and shuffling of the Heauens, the accords so discordant of contrarie mo­tions, those sweet coniunctions and diuorces of [Page 85] Starres, is it truly which is called, the sweet harmo­nie of the Heauens. They would likewise make vs beleeue, the Heauens were al engraued ouer, because the Zodiack is composed and distinguished into twelue Figures of Beasts, therin cut, as with a chisel; and the whole Figure and face of Heauen were as fully stockt with beasts, carued and fashioned so to beautify the Heauens; and therefore wil some haue Caelum to take its denomination from caelatum, as much to say, as carued and engraued; But in effect, are nothing els but certain assemblies and congregations of Starres togeather, which the fantasies of men hath fashioned in Figures and Constellations; which being so taken, resemble some kinds of beasts, but in truth haue so smal resem­blance with them, as that which they cal a Beare, might as wel be tearmed an Ape; and Necessitie makes vs to accept it for good coyne, and GOD him­self with Iob makes vse of such manner of speach, in naming them Orion, the Hyades, and the like. This great Bowle of the Heauens, roules and turnes about an Axeltree, fixt in a certain place, and flyes with the winged swiftnes it hath; the Angel giues it the whirle about, and makes it turne round according to the Diuine prouidence, crowning the world with its vaulted Arch enameled al with starres.

THE DISCOVRSE.

THvs are the Heauens expressed in them­selues;The Suruey▪ [...]arth. Angl. l. 8. c. 2. and now let vs seeke another Heauen, these ancients neuer dreamed of. One Authour diuides the Heauens into seauen parts; the Aërean, Aetherean, Olym­pian, Firie, Firmamental, Waterie, and Empyreal. But we wil content ourselues with these three only, the [Page 86] Syderean, the Cristalin, and Empyreal. And for the first, we shal find our Queene of Heauen to be so the Queene therof, as she is a Syderean or Starrie Heauen herself, if we regard but the ornaments she is decked with, as so manie starres. For as that Heauen is adorned with varietie of Starres; so she with diuersitie of al Vertues. The beautie of Heauē, Eccl. 4 [...]. to wit, of Marie, is the celestial glo­rie of the Starres, that is, the glorious varietie of al Ver­tues. For as for the ornaments of this Heauen, it is sayd in the Apocalyps: She had a crowne of twelue starres vpon her head. Apoc. 12. Now in this nūber of Twelue is a double nūber of Six, which is the number of Perfection, and signifyes the Saints, as wel those which are in glorie & Celestial Paradise, as those, who are as yet on their way thither; who al honour, crowne, and adore this blessed Virgin, as their Queene and Ladie. For as the Heauen with its pro­per Orb and certain reuolutions, carries al the mo­uing starres along with it, so she induceth al the Saints, to ioyne in intercession with her.

The Cristalline Heauen she is, being a Heauen as compo­sed of the waters aboue the heauens; which is hardned, as it were, & made solid, like Cristal; the matter being nothing els but waters hardned and condensed, as some think, not much vnlike to the crust of Cristal, which is solid, lucid, and most pure: And so the waters of our Ladie were solid, that is, her Vertues were con­firmed; and lucid, that is, transparent, because through them she might contemplate and behold the glorie of GOD;1. Cor. 3. according to that: But we with face reuealed, shal speculate the glorie of GOD. The forme of this Cristalline Heauen, is Spheral and round, which is truly the most Capacious, the Perfectest, and Fairest of al figures; & so is she most Capacious, as becomes the habitatiō of GOD, according as the Church deliuers: Whō the Heauēs could not containe, hast thou held in thy Womb; the Perfectest, because endued with al vertues:Eccl. 24. In me is grace, of the way [Page 87] & veritie; most Faire, because stained with no blot, nor euer touched with anie blemish, so much as Venial: Thou art wholy faire, my friend, Cant. and there is no blemish in thee.

She is the Empyreal Heauen, which is the habitation of the Saints, and a Heauen al of light, of an infinit capa­citie, and immēse sublimitie. The blessed Virgin then is resembled to this Heauen: First, for her vnspeakable Claritie, because she is now wholy radiant and resplen­dent in Celestial glorie, hauing beneath, the Moone vnder her feet, and on her head, a crowne of Starres, & for the rest clothed with the Sunne. Secondly, for her great capaciousnes; for as there can be thought no place of greater capacitie, then the Empyreal Heauen, so can no creature be found of greater Charitie, then Marie. For she had an ample Womb, which was able to receaue GOD; She had an ample Vnderstanding, which had the knowledge of al Diuine things; an ample Affect she had, for her singular compassion on the miseries of al the afflicted. Thirdly, for her highnes and sublimitie; for as Heauen is the highest of al bodies, so is she higher farre then al Spiritual creatures, as wel Angelical as Reasonable. Thy magnificence is raysed, Psal. that is, the Virgin Marie, to whom GOD hath shewed very great things, yea aboue al the Heauens, as wel Material as Rational, because appointed Queene ouer al Saints; and therefore sayes of her self: Who hath wrought great matters for me▪ who is potent▪ and holie is his name.

Which things S. Epiphanius considering, in his Sermō of the Prayses of our Ladie,Epip. in laud. Mariae. breakes forth into these words▪ O impolluted Womb, hauing the circle of the heauens within thee, which bare the incomprehensible GOD most truly compre­hēded in thee? O Wōb more ample, then Heauen, which streight­ned not GOD within thee! O Womb▪ which art euen verie Heauē indeed, consisting of seauen Circles, and art more capacious farre then them all O Womb more high and wider▪ then are the seauen [Page 88] Heauens! O Womb, which are euen the eight Heauen itself, more large then the seauen of the Firmament. So he. And S. Chrysologus thus: Cherisoh. Ser. 11s. O truly blessed, who was greater then Hea­uen, stronger then the Earth, wider then the World! For GOD, whom the world could not containe, She held alone; and bare him, that beares the world; yea bare him, who begat her, and nur­sed the nourisher of al liuing things. But yet heare what S Bonauenture sayth heerof:Bonau. in spec. c. 50. Thou therefore (sayth he) most immense Marie, art more capacious then Heauen, since whom the Heauens could not hold, thou hast held in thy lap; thou art more capacious then the World: for whom the whole world could not hold, hath been enclosed within thy bowels, being made Man.

But especially indeed is the blessed Virgin sayd to be the Empyreal Heauen, because as that same being the proper place of Beatitude, where GOD cleerly ma­nifests himself to the Blessed, face to face: so the Wōb of the blessed Mother of GOD, was the first of al wherin GOD in a permament manner communicated to the soule of Christ our Lord, the cleare and blessed vision of himself; since certain it is, that from the beginning of his Conception, he was truly a compre­hensour; and yet in his way, and a true viatour. Which no doubt is a singular prayse of the Virginal womb; that, where the wombs of other women are meerly the shops of Original sinne, as Dauid lamented (And my mother conceaued me in sinnes) which makes one vnwor­thie of the visiō of GOD:Psal. 50 the Virgins Wōb of al others should be a place for the blessed Vision, and the only first shop of Beatitude. So as wel might the Woman of the Ghospel cry out: Blessed is the Womb, that bare thee.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

THE Blessed Virgin,
The Pause.
euen from her birth,
Was like a Heauen without a clowd, on earth;
Where fixed Starres did shine, each in his place,
As she encreas'd by merits more in grace;
Til ful of grace (as is with starres the sky)
Gabriel salurtes. Then more to glorify
This Heauen, from his, the Sunne of Iustice came,
Light of the world, with his eternal flame.
Lo, how the Angels from th' Empyreal sphere
Admire this Heauen on earth, that shines so cleare,
Contesting with their glorious Orbe aboue,
And with the Seraphins in burning loue.
Empyreal Heauen! For in her makes abode
The first blest Soule, that had the sight of GOD.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, that as the Heauens in their motions commit no errour,The Contemplation. because they are alwayes obedient to the Intelligences or mo­uing Angels that moue and guide them: so likewise the Blessea Virgin could slide into no errour of sinne, be­cause she punctually obserued the Holie-Ghost, her Mo­tour and proper Intelligence, as it were, in al things; while being moued with such motiōs, she was carryed to GOD through feruent loue, as being the wheel of GOD, wherof Ezechiel speaks (Which was carryed where­soeuer the spirit went; Ezech. for the spirit of life was in the wheels) now in praying for vs to her Sonne, now di­recting the Angels themselues vnto our ministerie, and then exhorting the blessed Spirits to pray for vs, Behold of what agilitie and motion this Heauen is!

Cōsider then that euen as frō heauen; and its [...]ights, we receaue al the chiefest benefits of Nature, espe­cially the growth and prosperitie of plants, without which nothing would succeed or come to anie thing: so from this glorious Virgin-Mother we likely receaue the most notable fauours & guifts we haue frō GOD. For as the Heauen visits the earth, affording its light by day & night, by meanes of the two great torches, Sun and Moon, and millions of lesser lights, which with their influēces besides doe fructify the same, and with their sweet showers in a māner inebriate it, and coole it againe, when need requires, with dryer clowds, yea enrich it also, with gold, siluer, and precious stones: so our incomparable Ladie visits and illustrats the whole vniuersal Church with her admirable examples, and with the guifts of the Holie-Ghost inebriats the same, stores it abundantly with good works, and enriches it with an infinit treasure of al vertues:Psal. and therefore is it sayd: Thou hast visited the earth.

Ponder lastly, how among al things which haue anie stuff, matter, or dimesion in them of length, breadth, [Page 91] or thicknes, there is no incorruptible thing to be thought on, but only the heauens; for al mixt things, whatsoeuer they be, corrupt at last, and the Elements we see continually corrupt; saue only the Celestial bodie, which is wholy incorruptible of its owne na­ture: So in like māner, whenas al the Childrē of Adam, begot according to Nature, are lyable, and obnoxious to the corruption of Original sinne; and al women loose in cōceauing, the integritie of the bodie; yet this Heauen of Marie, through especial grace & prerogatiue of her Sonne, was made incorruptible, according to either part, of soule and bodie: Of the soule truly, be­cause the cōtagion and corruption of Original sinne touched not her so much as a momēt only; & of bodie also, because though indeed she were a true & natural Mother, and cōceaued her Sonne most truly indeed, yet knew she no corruption at al, obseruing and keeping perpetually, the Virginitie of mind and bodie. How worthily therefore, is she compared to Heauen for this so strange and admirable incorruptibilitie in her?

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Great Miracle of the world,The Collo­quie. or little world of miracles; not Queene so much of Heauen alone, as the Heauen of the King of thee, Queene & Mistris of the Heauens; thou only maister-peece of the Almightie hand; O Diuine Throne, not second vnto anie; Thou liuing Ark of Alliance; and the Elder Sister of al creatures, who wast a Mother and a Virgin a Virgin, & a Mother, al in one; a Mayden & a Nurse, a Nurse & yet a May­den, the Mother and the Nurse of God and Man, a Virgin and a Mayd for euer. By that glorious virgin-fruit of thine, the asto­nishment of Angels, which so miraculously thou broughtst into the world, after thou hadst so long afforded him thy precious Womb, as a gratful and delicious Paradise of Heauen: Grant, we beseech thee, by that shower of grace in Him, which fel through thee, O mysterious Heauen, that we may come at last to that Heauen of his glorie, which he hath purchased for vs with his more then precious Bloud.

THE IX. SYMBOL. THE IRIS.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Iris is the radiant and refulgent Bow of Heauen, The Impresa. that shoots but wonders to astonish the world with. It is the Thiara, or fayrest dresse of Nature, her shining Carkanet enchaced with the richest iewels. It is the Triumphal Arch of the heauenlie Nu­mens, set-vp in triumph as a Trophey of Beautie, to allure the eyes of al, to stare and gaze vpon it. The Protheus of the Seas could neuer take so manie shapes vpon him, as the Iris diuersifyes its coulours. And for the Camelion of the ayre, she doubtles vsed no other [Page 93] pattern then it, to coppie forth the great varietie of coulours she assumes. This Prodigie of Nature, liues in and by the Ayre, but hath its whole subsistence in the Eye only. Open the eyes, and there it is; but shut them vp, and it wil vanish. It is indeed the faire and goodlie mirrour of the heauenlie Intelligences them­selues, which they wil gaze on, as their leasure serues them, and breake at their pleasure, if they like it not, to make them new perhaps to please them better. If the Angels would lay aside their wings, and goe a­foot, I doe not think, they could haue a better way to descend by, and ascend againe, then by this Causway, paued al with iewels heer and there, and where not, al strewed with tapistries; the Turkie ones are nothing like; nor those of Barbarie come neere them; while those the mothes wil eate, and time destroy their coulours, and they fade; but these, wil last til al be quite worne out. They seeme al as made by the same hand; they are so like; looke what you haue to day, the same you haue to morrow. And surely no other Ar­tizan then he that made you this, can make you such another. They say, it is a nothing in itself; which if it be, it is a prettie Nothing, that so with nothing should make the heauens so beautiful, nay more, so rich, and al with nothing.

THE MORALS.

‘PACIS FERO SIGNA FVTVRAE.’

THE Scythian Tamberlan, The Motto. the terrour of the Hou­se of Ottomans, had in his warres, three Ensi­gnes: the red, the black, and white; which he vsed to aduance vpon occasions; wherof the white especially signifyed Peace & a reconciliation offered; which if refused, the red, & then the black succeeded. Castor and Pollux in the Heauens, are held to be sweet, propitious, and pacifical Starres. The Halcion in time of a tempestuous storme at Sea appearing on the decks, is a comfortable, and little lesse then a certain signe of a calme and quiet Sea, wherat Mariners wil cheer vp, as no such thing had euer hapned. The Spring immediatly followes the bitter and sharp Winter; the signes are the buds appearing then, in the tender and green twigs. When the Lyon is in his chiefest rage, and when he roars most dreadfully of al, and for anger beats himself with his tayle in meer despite, let come but a tender Virgin, by, the while, and appeare in his sight, his courage wil fayle him, & he be a Lamb in a Lion's skin. The Lion of Iuda roa­red then, when the Lord of Hoasts, to extirpate human kind, so let go the Cataracts of heauen, to drowne the world, with a total deluge of waters couering the earth; when lo, the white flag was spred in the Hea­uens, in forme of an Iris, representing the pure and immaculate Virgin of Virgins, which made the Lion to let fal his creast, and to enter into a league with al mankind, to drowne it no more; and therefore our Ladie herself was a true Iris, and may rightly be called, and truly is, that PACIS FERO SIGNA FVTVRAE.

THE ESSAY.

THE Iris or Rainebow is that goodlie mir­rour,The Reuiew. wherin the humane spirit sees very easily its owne ignorance, and wherin the poore Philosopher becomes Banck­rout, who in so manie yeares can know no more of this Bow, then this, that he knowes no­thing to the purpose, & that it is a Noli me tangere; since as manie as haue mused thervpon, haue but broken their braines about it to their owne confusion. For of the one side, there is nothing of lesse being, in the whole pourtrait of Nature, being framed of a good­lie Nothing, diuersifyed and diaperd with false cou­lours, dressed-vp with a feigned beautie, the matter nothing, its durance a moment. It is a Bow without an arrow, a bridge without a Basis, a Crescent not encreasing, a phantasme of coulours; a Nothing, that would faine shew to be somewhat. And yet is this rich Nothing a miracle of beautie, among the fairest things of the world, which being compared thervnto, are euen as nothing. Would you haue riches? The whole Bow is nothing els then the carkanet of Nature, enameled with al the precious Iewels she hath; some are Pearls, others haue the sparcle of the Diamant, the flames of the Carbuncle, the twincle of the Saphir; I should say rather it is the maister-peece, wherin Nature had embrodered al her rarest stones, and pla­ced the richest peece of her treasures, which she can seuer at her pleasure: It is the Collar of her Order, her chaine of pearles, and the fairest of al her Cabinet, wherewith she decks herself, to please her Spouse, the Heauens. Good God! what a goodlie Nothing is this, [Page 96] if it be no more, that carryes such beautie and riches with it? It is said, that great High way of milke, which appeares in the heauens, was the way of the Gods, whē they went vnto the Cōsistorie of Iupiter; but it is a fable: whereas I should think, that were there any or­dinary way for the Angels to descend down vnto the earth by, or for men to mount vp to heauen, there could be no fayrer thē this Bridge alwayes tapistryed, and paued with so bewtiful stones.

THE DISCOVRSE.

GOD himself takes such complacencie in the Rainebow, The Suruey. that when he is in the highest point of his iust choler, if he cast but his eye thervpon, he is suddenly appeased. I wil looke on my Bow, and wil remember &c: sayth he.Gen. And no maruel surely; since the Bow, he regards so much, is the Symbol heer of his deerest Mother, the Incomparable Virgin.

Let vs see then, how this heauenlie Bow deciphers the Queen of Heauen, this mirrour of Nature, and the asto­nishment of man-kind. The Generation and extract of anie thing discouers it most. This Iris then or Raynebow, is caused by the reflexion of the Sunnie beames, vpon a lucid clowd, concaue and waterish. Clowdes are engendred of the marine vapours or exhalation of the seas, where the vapoural parts of the Ocean are attracted by the vertue of the Sun; which conglomerated togeather, engender a clowd, when the brackishnes of the Sea-water is turned to sweetnes. And so was our Ladie a true clowd, since in her were found these marine vapours, that is, incre­dible tribulations, bitter and brackish of themselues, though to her made sweet, through the force and [Page 97] vertue of Diuine Loue. The Sunnie beames therefore, that is, the grace of GOD being a ray, as it were, of the Diuine Essence, reflecting on the purest Virgin, a lucid clowd, concaue and waterish, produced the Iris or Rainebow in the Hierarchie of the Church, as in the firmament of the Heauens; and therefore called the Iris or Celestial Bow, a signe of the Reconciliation of GOD with al mankind. She was concaue through humilitie, and therefore very apt to receaue the rayes of the Sunne of Iustice, the influence of Diuine graces; as she was waterish no lesse through compas­sion and pietie, because her hart was a Spring, and her eyes as continual-standing pooles of teares.

A bow commonly hath a string, is bent with an arrow in it, and hath the horns conuerted towards vs, as menacing the Foes. Our Blessed Vigin is a Bow indeed, but without the string of seueritie, because most iust; and without menaces and feare, because most sweet; and hath two horns withal, to wit, Grace and Mercie, which she holdeth towards vs; while grace she affordeth to the iust, and mercie to sinners, and is therefore called the Mother of Grace, and Mother of Mercie.

Aboue al, the Rayne-bow hath its proper subsistence in coulour, which it seemes to borrow (as Bede sayth) of the foure Elements. For, of the fire it contracts a ruddie coulour; from the water a Cerulean; from the ayre, the coulour of the Hyacinth; and from the earth, the green it hath: al which seeme spiritually to be found in our Celestial Bow, the Incomparable Ladie; for red she was, being wholy inflamed with the fire of Diuine loue, which she tooke from the Diuine fire, God being our consuming fire: a fire indeed, that burns and consumes others, but not her; because al­though she were a bush, and burning too; yet incombustible. [Page 98] She might borrow that coulour likewise from her dead Sonne, as he lay on her lap, being taken from the Crosse, al bathed with his precious Bloud, which mixed with her faire complexion, might wel appeare like to flames, in our heauenlie Iris.

She had the Cerulean, which is the coulour of the Sea, because she is properly the Starre of the Sea, and hath therefore a great correspondencie with that li­quid Element; and through meer compassion, was become, as it were; al liquid, according to that of the Psalmist: My hart is become as dissolued or liquifyed wax; as wel for the abundance of teares she was wont to shed, as the puritie of her mind, which made them so limpid and cleare.

She had thirdly the coulour of the Hyacinth; which she tooke, as from the ayre; since al her conuersation was in the ayre, as it were, abstracted from the earth, or terrene cogitations. She was wholy as the Bird of Paradise, which hath no feet to touch the earth with; & from the time that her Sonne ascended to heauen, from the mount Oliuet, she could do nothing but cast vp her eyes thither-wards▪ and so powerfully perhaps contracted that coulour▪ through the vehemencie of her attention, and application to that object, til her Assumption haply, when she left it by the way in her Bow, to remayne for euer, as a signe of her puritie.

But now to conclude with the green, which she tooke from the earth, what might it be, but a conti­nual Spring of al Graces and Vertues, which she prac­tised on earth? Looke into a garden, in that season of the Spring; and whatsoever your eyes can behold truly delicious there, in the greennes of the plots and arbours, both open and close, and in the green-sword allies and bancks; your vnderstanding shal be able to paralel and find-out her vertuous conuersation on [Page 99] earth. For if you consider her green walks, they were al as streight, as garden-walks; for streight were the paths of her whole life. If on the arbours, you shal find her continually in her closet; her plots were no­thing els, but how to become more gratful to her Sonne, her Spouse, her Lord; and those alwayes new & euer green; so as in the garden of her mind, was a per­petual Spring to be seen of al vertues, while she liued amongst vs: no maruel then, the green was so dear vnto her, to be put into her bow.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

FRom heauen the Father viewes his Sonne below
Vpon the Crosse,
The Pause.
as on a clowde a Bowe,
When vapours from the earth exhal'd arise.
The Mother likewise sees with mourning eyes
Her Sonne al black & blew, pale, wan, & red,
Green with a crowne of thornes fixt on his head.
Al which reflect, & by reflexion die
The Mother, like a Raine-bow in the skie.
To her for mercie when the Sinner sues,
The Sonne his Mother as a Raine-bow viewes,
That pleades for mercie, to her Sonne appeales,
Who signes the Pardon, and his Wounds are Seales.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. that if Nature be able to frame so rare a peece of work­manship as the Rayne-bow; and that no wit of man can truly comprehend the reasō of its forme and figure, with the admirable diuersitie of coulours in it, so as among her other works most choice and rare, the same is accounted as a cheef miracle in Nature, in the visible Heauens: I imagin the while, what GOD himself is able to doe in his works of Grace, being disposed, as it were, to vye with Nature in framing an Iris likewise, in this Heauen of Heauēs, to astonish not Mortals only, but the Angels and blessed Spirits themselues, better able to iudge of the diuersitie of coulours in her, to wit, the mysteries and graces, wherewith he hath adorned her.

Consider then, that as the Rayne-bow of it-self is no more then a meer Meteor in the ayre, if it be so much, whose whole luster it takes from the Sun, and va­nisheh as soone as he is either in a clowd, or hath his aspect some other way, since it is wholy of him, and so of him, as without him it is nothing: So our Incō ­parable Virgin-Iris, whatsoever she was of herself, she esteemed as nothing, not so much as a Meteor, as it were, in the Celestial Hierarchie of Heauen, attribu­ting al to the Sun of Glorie reflecting his rayes so powerfully vpon her, to make her appeare so glorious as she doth, the most refulgent Bow, or Carkanet of Heauen, the delight of the Angels, and the gracious signe of Reconciliation to Mortals with her onlie Sonne, the Sun of Iustice, whose she is wholy, and euer was.

Ponder lastly, how as the Rayne-bow of itself, is [Page 122] nothing els, but exhalations and vapours extract from the Seas, and drawne-vp into the ayre, by the heat of the Sun. So this Iris is the Quintessence, as it were, extracted from the Sea of the generation of Adam, through particular fauour and priuiledge of the Sun of Iustice, to become first a light clowd, that is, capable of Celestial rayes; and then being concaued through humilitie, to beare him in her womb, and to haue the forme of a Celestial Bowe, enriched with such diuersities of al Graces.

THE APOSTROPHE.

OH specious Iris! The Collo­quie. Hand-mayd of the Sun of Iustice, in thine owne account; and yet esteemed of al the world besides, the glorious Queene of Heauen, and placed as a radiant Iris or Anckour of our hope and reconci­liation to GOD thy Sonne, whose vnbent Bow thou art, sure Signe of Peace. Ah then! shal I alwayes liue thus? Shal I alwayes walke the labyrinth of the fraylties and inordination of my soule, for want of a Clue to guid me forth, and to leade me vnto the true loue of my GOD, the only Louelie and Amiable aboue al louelie and amiable things? Shal I alwayes walke thus, by the brinck of Hel, vnrulie, unmortifyed, curious, sensual, and vayne? O my most deer Diuine Mother; guard me with the bow of thy safeguard and protection, and make intercession for me, O thou proclaymed Happie through al nations; heare my desires, haue pittie on my teares, let my sights mount vp vnto thee. O receaue them, I pray, most gracious and auspitious Iris of the Empyreal Heauens.

THE X. SYMBOL. THE MOONE.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Moone is the Dowager,The Impresa and Queen-Regent of the Firmamēt, that rules that Monarchie by turnes with Titan her brother, with this happines aboue him, that his gouerment ouer some of his prouinces is found too hot & intolerable, & held as tyranous; but hers more benigne & sweet ouer al. She is so good, as she seems to spend her whole demeanes vpon the poore & indigēt. And as she is charitable to al, she is euē prodigally profuse of the treasure of her influēces of on her neerest kin about her, especially Tellus [Page 104] her Sister, more necessitous then stands with her gentle breast, to see her in; and therefore as made for her alone, she seemes to apply herself to her only. And to the end she may stil haue to giue, she is stil borrowing from her elder Brother new and fresher lights, from the rich Magasin of his greater splen­dour; wherof she spends so fast, as she is often forced to breake and become Bankerout, and as often by her Brother set aflote againe, with a new stock, as brisk as euer. She holdes besides very faire corres­pondences and good intelligence with the Seas, and those so good, as neuer fayle without some prodigie or other. They vse to taxe her of inconstancie; but they doe her wrong; for She is constant stil, in that inconstancie of hers, they charge her with; how then inconstant? The spots they note her for, shew but how good a glasserepresentatiue she is, that so figures something, which they cal a Man, which I scan not heer. She is faire and beautiful, & yealds to none but to the Sun, and that for reuerēce, and good respects. She is a great riser in the night, which she doth to good purpose, stil obliging the whole world through manie fauours. She is indeed the precious Diamant of the rest of Starres, cut round of the larger size, and sometimes Crescent-wise, as she is pleased to communicate herself, & take away the veyle before her face.

THE MORALS.

‘BENIGNA ET FACILIS.’

THe Children of Israël indeed, though they acknowledged GOD for the Authour and Creatour of al things,The Motto. yet not to be dazeld with his glorie, were stil calling vpon Moyses to speake to them, and not the Lord. The Kings of China are neuerseen to their Subiects, but nego­tiate their Royal affaires by the trustie hands of their Eunucks about them; and they dispense his fauours heer and there according to his mind. By them giues he audience to Embassadours; and by their hands, receaues the presents, suits, and requests of al; and giues dispatches by them: and so his Sub­iects doe more sweetly tast his benignities and fa­uours, and seeme more freely to communicate with him. The Vnderstanding or Reason hath the common Sense for chief dispenseresse, and the Executiue powers for ministers, while al things are not done immediatly by himself. Tyberius had Seianus as it were his right hand. He that would haue a fauour at the hands of Alexander, would apply himself streight to his deerest Ephestion, and he was sure to haue his suit. Yea the great S. Peter himself, how great soeuer in his Maister's fauour, would stil be pulling of S. Iohn by the sleeue, to put forth his doubts and his requests to his Maister for him. And the great Assuerus had his gracious and benigne Hester alwayes by his side; who did nothing but communi­cate the Prince's fauours to his people with a pious and prudent hand. This was the Virgin-Mother right, to our great Assuerus indeed; & therefore is she heer most truly and aptly stiled: BENIGNA ET FACILIS.

THE ESSAY.

THE Moon of al others, is a Planet the neerest to the earth,The Reuiew. and most familiar with it. It is the Sun of the night; her course and decourse neuer fayles; her glasse is cleer according as she lookes on the Sun; and sometimes do we see but a certain list, as it were, and Crescent of Siluer; sometimes it waxeth againe, and makes a demie O or half circle, & then growes it to be wholy orbicular and round; her Argent is alwayes dimmed, with some shadowes and certain obscurities, that seeme to fashion a face with them. She supplyes the defaults of the Sun, and often shines in fellowship with him, and mingles her rayes with his, euen at midday. The simplicitie of Painters heerin is disco­uered, in that ordinarily painting her in companie with the Sun, they make her horns, to looke to the Sun-wards; wherein truly are they quite mistaken; for the back is it, which is turnd to the Sun, and not the horns; for she hath no claritie in her, but that which she borrowes of the Sun, presenting him in lieu therof, her mirrour and glasse to looke vpon. She is the Sister of the Sun; and, as I sayd before, the Sun of the nights, which pearceth the thicknes of their darknes, with her siluer rayes; somewhat moyst, and sweetly cōforting the tediousnes of them, being otherwise gloomie and dark of themselues. A Starre she is, that liues but of loane, and hath the visage al­wayes vpon change: She is the Mistris of the Sea, the Queen of the Night, the Mother of Deawes, the sweet Nurse of the Earth, the Guide of Mariners, the Glasse of the Sun, the Companion of his trauels, the Guar­dian of his light, and Depositariā of the day and trea­sures of the heauens: the second Glory of the firma­mēt, [Page 107] the Empresse of Starres, & Regent of this world beneath, where she hath her iurisdictiō & demeanes. She marks-out the months and yeares, and the ages, as they runne, and through her sweetnes tempers the burning heats of her brother the Sun. When she is diametrally set vnder the Sun, & interposed between him and the earth, she ecclipseth him, and robs the earth of the beames of the Sun; and the shadow of the earth of the other side being cast ouer her, ecclip­ses her, and suffers her not to enioy the Sunnie rayes: but the point of the shadow of the earth, not moun­ting neere so high, makes no ecclips at al in the other starres.

THE DISCOVRSE.

NOw what may this Moon denote and signify to vs,The Suruey. Cant. 5 Eccl. 53 Psal. but the glorious Queene of Heauen? For she is al faire as the Moone: She is, as the Moone, ful in her dayes: and a perfect Moone, because Her Throne as the Sun in my sight, & as a perfect Moone for euer. She is a Moon therefore, yea farre more beautiful then the Moon euer was, or euer like to be. For as the Moon indeed hath her light borrowed, very gracious to behold, but none of her owne, being meerly a light reuerberated frō the Sun: So the Virgin truly, though her light be borrowed, and none of her owne, as simply hers, yet hers it is indeed, though borrowed of her Sonne, the Sun of Iustice, as daughter of the King. For al the glorie of the King's daughter is within her &c: not outwardly only in the voice of people, alwayes doubtful, euer vncertain, for the most part vndeser­ued, and of little subsistence and permanencie, but intrinsecally in her most certain, meritorious, and for euer. Besides, the Moon hath her light often ecclipsed, and looseth wholy her light for a time; [Page 108] but the blessed Virgin, though she seemed to be ecclip­sed, through the vehemencie of her sorrow, when she saw her Sonne so shadowed by a clowd, in the time of his Passion, yet for her cōstancie of fayth she could not be ecclipsed so, as to despaire of his Resurrectiō. I wil not cease vnto the end of the world. Eccl 22. Wel might the Apostles fayle at that time, but Marie neuer. Moreouer as the Moon is variable and subiect to changes, in the light it affords to Mortals (an argument accounted of weaknes of brayne,Eccl. 22. while the foole, as the Wise-man sayth, is changed as the Moone) let vs see, what chāges & mutabilities they are. One is of the mind, which is often moued through diuers affectīons; another in the bodie, which is subiect to manifold alteration and corruption; an other of fortune, because temporal things are alwayes a flowing or ebbing, a flux or reflux, the losse of guilt and offence which is in sin­ners, who alwayes are sliding from vice to vice. But our Ladie hath al these changes and mutabilities vn­der her feet, since the Moon indeed is placed vnder her feet; while she alwayes retained the constancie of her mind, and Vow of Virginitie; she put on the glorie of Immortalitie on her bodie; she trampled al terrene and temporal things vnder foot; and lastly through a singular prerogatiue was euer priuiledged from sinne. Furthermore, the Moon hath her light al speck­led ouer with little spots: but our blessed Ladie had no blemish or spot at al, either in her thoughts, because alwayes pure and immaculate; or in her bo­die, because Angelical. Thou art wholy fayre, my friend, And there is no spot in thee. Cant. 4. I say, most fayre in cogita­tions, affections, and intentions; and spotles in al. Oh beautiful Moon, transcending anie heauenlie Planet or Starre in the Firmament, as farre in dignitie and ex­cellencie, as so heauenlie a Ladie and Queene of Heauens [Page 109] can surpasse her Rational, Sensible, or Insensible subiects!

The Moon is sometimes wholy obscure, sometimes wholy lucid and bright, and sometimes partly ob­scure, and partly resplendent; wherin it resembles the Virgin right. For the Moon, as S. Augustin sayth, is obscu­red either when it is vnder a clowd, or when ecclip­sed, or when renewed, as in the new Moon: So the bles­sed Virgin in this world, was thrice or three manner of wayes obscured. First, through her excessiue humi­litie, which was a kind of obscure clowd, that ouer­shadowed her brightnes or splendour in the eyes of the world. Black I am but beautiful; as if she had sayd:Cant. 1. I am outwardly black through humilitie, but in­wardly beautiful in grace and maiestie. Secondly, through acerbitie and bitternes of sorrow; and this in the Passion of her Sonne, as I sayd aboue, where she suffered an ecclips in the vehemēcie of her greef. The Sun, that is to say, Christ, shal be turned into darknes through death; and the Moon, to wit, the blessed Virgin, into bloud, I [...]el 2. that is, into dolour. And thirdly, through corporal death; for then became she obscure in a sort, when her soule departed frō her precious bodie so obscured, as it were to become a new Moone againe in her Assumption; and then indeed was she a moone most perfect for euer.

Secondly this Moon of ours, was wholy lucid, in her Assumption, because she was glorified in soule and bodie, and receaued there her double Stole; and like­wise shines vpon vs, with her infinit fauours and graces, which she dayly sends vs. For then indeed as the Moon is wholy bright and lucid, when she shines in the beginning, midst, and to the end of the night: by which night is tribulation both signified and vsually vnderstood: And as some Saints there are, who help [Page 110] the afflicted, in the beginning of the night as it were; others, who suffer men to fal into tribulation, and to be tempted, in the beginning and middle, but help and succour them at the end: the blessed Virgin shines with her fauours vpon the distressed, as wel in the beginning, in affording courage; and in the midle, in giuing perseuerance; as in the end, in placing the crowne on their heads. This is she, when others fayle, who neuer fayles; whom other Saints for sinnes iustly forsake, she neuer leaues; and while others seeme to subtract their suffrages, she alwayes helps.

Thirdly, this Moon was partly lucid and partly ob­scure; and this truly in the Passion of her Sonne, where both she was obscured, and yet gaue light; obscure, through intēse sorrow, yet lucid by most firme Fayth. For as whē the Sun is ecclipsed, the Moon being oppo­sed between vs & the Sun, appeares wholy obscure: so when the Sun of Iustice suffered ecclips at his death, the blessed Virgin became wholy dark, that is, quite ouercast and ful of sorrow; And yet notwithstan­ding she shined euen then likewise, because she kept the light of Fayth vnextinguished in her.Prou. vlt. Her light shal not be extinguished in the night. Surely two Heauēs there are, which yet neuer lost their light, nor euer are like to doe: to wit, Christ for one, who neither with death did forgoe the light of his Diuinitie, but his Deitie was both with his bodie in the Sepulcher, and with his soule in Limbus: and his Mother the other, who neuer lost the light of grace and fayth within her.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

THe Empresse of the Sea,
The Pause.
Latona bright,
Drawes like a load-stone by attractiue might
The Oceans streames, which hauing forward runne
Calles back againe, to end where they begunne.
The Prince of darknes had ecclipsed Eues light,
And Mortals, clowded in Cymmerian night,
Were backwards drawne by Eue, as is the Maine;
[...]T was only Marie drew to GOD againe:
[...] chast Diana, with thy siluer beames,
Fluse & reflux (as in the Oceans streames)
[...]Tis thou canst cause, O draw! and draw me so,
That I in vice may ebbe, in Vertue flow.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. that if the Moon being so faire, beautiful, and perfect, be so accounted of Mortals; and for the ma­nifold influences and fauours, which she continually imparts to creatures, be held in so great veneration, as to share in their opinion with the Sun himself, in the gouerment of the world, whom the Paynim Gentilitie holds to be a GOD, and her Brother, and she his Sister, notwith­standing she hath yet so manie blemishes, defects, and spots appearing in her, who can except against the Churches deuotion, in so magnifying our Ladie, who is truly so faire, beautiful, & perfect indeed, without any the least blemish, or spot in her; & so beneficial withal, as to communicate her graces vnto vs in a far higher nature, and those in a measure so immense? Or who can tax vs, for stiling her the Queen of heauen, who is not only the Sister, the Friend, the Doue, and beautiful Spouse of the Sun o [...] iustice, but euen his most immaculate Mother, the fountain of al her preroga­tiues besides; when especially we afford her no more honour, then may worthily be due to a meer crea­ture?

Consider then, that as in the opinion of such as hold the Moon encreasing to haue her horns directed towards the rising of the Sun; but decreasing, or being in the wayne, to haue the horns pointing to the setting of the Sun: So our heauenlie, Angelical, and spiritual Moon, the Incomparable Virgin-Mother, had certain addresses and preparations, of humilitie and Virginitie, wherewith she disposed herself, to embrace her Sun in her armes, in the morning of his [Page 113] birth, as he lay in the Crib: And at his setting againe, that is, at his Passion, regarded him with two other horns as it were; to wit, with the sorrow she had for his death, of the one side; and the ioy, she receaued of the other, for the Redemption of the world.

Ponder lastly, how though the Moon, while it is iust ouer the earth, and the Sunne in oppositiō thervnto, in a right diameter beneath the same, is shadowed, obscured, or ecclipsed: Yet our mystical Moone, when Christ, our true Sun indeed, descended and abid in hel, which is vnder the earth, and our Moon remayning there ouer it, lost not the light of Fayth, of his pre­sent Resurrection; for that the shadow of the earth, that is, the infidelitie of terrene things, could not ascend vnto her, whereby the darknes of Infidelitie comprehended her not.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Empresse of the world, Ladie of the Vniuers, Queen of Angels,The Collo­qui [...]. standing in the Moon, and crowned with Starres in Heauen by God Almightie; most wise, most good! Oh regard me, I beseech thee, from the top of the heauens with thy sacred influences from thence; and haue pittie vpon me most miserable wretched sinner in al points. Pre­sent, O sacred Virgin-Mother, al my pouerties to GOD, al my perils, al my miseries and necessities, to thy Sonne. For so wil he take pittie on me, and open his hand, and afford me his Benediction, through thy gracious intercession. This grant, I beseech thee, most radiant and resplendent Moone, who shinest in heauen, and shal for al eternitie,

THE XI. SYMBOL. THE STARRE.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Starres are the glittering lāps of Hea­uen,The Impresa. set vp as so manie lights, in the close or vpper seeling of the ample Theater of the world. They are as sparckling Diamants strewed in the Firmament, to entertaine the World with, as a goodlie maister-pie­ce of the great CREATOVR. They are the siluer Oes, al powdred heer and there, or spangles sprinckled ouer the purple Mantle or night-gowne of the heauens: the seed of pearle, sowne in the spacious fields of the Heauens, to bring forth light. Haue you seen a [Page 115] statelie Mask in Court, al set round, and taken vp with a world of beautiful Ladies, to behold the sports and reuels there? Imagin the Starres then, as sitting in the Firmamēt, to behold some spectacle on Earth, with no other light then their owne beauties. If that great Pan they speake of, were that man sitting in the Cabin of the Moone, the Starres would be his Sheep and lambs, feeding in those ample downes of heauen; which not appearing by day (their proper night) you must suppose to be lockt-vp in their folds for feare of those Beares and Lions in the Welkin. As Cinthia in the Heauēs is euen the very same that Diana is in the woods and forests, the Starres by cōsequence are her Nimphs, who encompas her about, and dāce the Canaries in her presence, while so they seeme in twinckling to dance and foot-it in the same place. They are extremely giuen to mortification, and to a strange annihilation of themselues; that being so great as they are, they appeare to be so litle in the eyes of men; yea manie of them, are so passionatly addicted to it, as they appeare not at al. They affect equalities amongst them; and be anie of them neuer so great, they wil shew to be no greater then the rest. Their greater height and eminencie in degrees swelles them not a whit or puffs them vp, but dimi­nisheth their creasts, and abates them rather. In fine, they are a happie Common-wealth, deuoyd of enuie or ambition; where wel may you heare of coniunc­tions of Houses, but no iarres and discords amongst them, that euer I could heare of.

THE MORALS.

‘IN ITINERE PHARVS.’

WHEN Theseus was puzled and entangled in Minos Labyrinth,The Motto. he found the twist of Ariadne to deliuer him thence. The little Bird with the red breast, which for his great familiaritie with men they cal a Robin, if he meet anie one in the woods to goe astray, and to wander he knowes not whither, out of his way, of common charitie wil take vpon him, to guide him, at least out of the wood, if he wil but follow him; as some think. This am I sure of, it is a comfortable and sweet companiō, insuch a case. It is the manner in al countries likely, in doubtful wayes especially, where they seeme to crosse one another, to set vp Pillars with hands, direc­ting and pointing this way or that way; and you wil not beleeue, what comfort it affords to wearie Pil­grims, whose euerie step out of their right way, is a greeuous corrasiue to them. The Kings had a Starre, as companion in their pilgrimage, to the Crib. And the Pastours of the Church, are as so manie Starres, to leade their Sheep, and to guide their subiects in the pilgrimages of their owne saluation. When the hauens are crooked and perilous to passe to and fro, the publick care of common safeties, in the night especially, prouides some burning torch or other, vpon some turret-top, to admonish the Marriners, where they are, and fayrly to guide and direct them into the wished port. This same prouision hath the Wisedome likewise of the great CREATOVR found out, to comfort and direct vs, no lesse, in the open [Page 117] Seas, exposing a certain Starre among the rest, as a sure and infallible Pharus: But more truly and abun­dantly farre, in ordaining the Incomparable Virgin Marie, his blessed Mother, to be our Starre in the dan­gerous and tempestuous Sea of the world; and therefore is heer very truly sayd in the Motto: IN ITINERE PHARVS.

THE ESSAY.

THE Starres, The Reuiew. as sowne vp and downe the Heauens, are the thicker and massiue parts of Heauen, certain Buttons of Cry­stal as it were, which serue as a grace and entertainment to Heauen. By these siluer channels, Nature distills her influences vpon vs, and insensibly distributes fauours. They are the eyes of Nature, which without cease serue vs as a Court-of-guard for watchfulnes; the Iewels of Nature, where­with ordinarily she dresses herself, Sometimes they send forth their fire & rayes; sometimes they ecclipse their beautie, and strip themselues of al refulgence. There are some, who can punctually tel you, the course and trauails of the Starres, their aspects, their encounters, and their fruits; the marriages and di­uorces of the Planets, their defects and ecclipses, their risings, their settings, their ascēdants, their con­iunctions, and the whole [...]economie of the Heauens. For the swiftnes of their motions, it is a thing almost incredible, what they write, that one Starre in the fir­mament, should goe 200000. Italian miles in a mi­nute of an hower; so as neither the flight of a bird, nor force of an arrow, nor the furious shot of a Canō nor anie thing of the world, can approach or come neere the imaginable swiftnes of these Starres; bus [Page 118] yet most true, Besides al this, there is no Starre, tha­hath not a particular vertue with it, though vnt knowne to vs. The clowded Starres cause infallibly rayne; others, frost; some, snow; others shead abun­dant deawes; some sow their hayle; others open the mouth and gates of the winds; others fold the world in clowds; others send downe mistie fogs; and others contribute to the production and generation of Mi­nerals; and when the Sun and the Canicular Starre are in coniunction, and match togeather, the world burnes with outrageous heats. It is a dreadful thing, to consider the greatnes of these Starres, their distāce in the Heauens, and the inexplicable swiftnes of their courses and reuolutions. You shal haue a Starre which shewes no bigger then a crowne, that is a [...]15. times greater then the earth. Goodnes of GOD! Who would imagin this beautie, to see such a Boule of Cristal al of fire, to cast downe here beneath a thousand bene­dictions on the earth, by meanes of its rayes, and the sweetnes of its influences?

THE DISCOVRSE.

THvs farre then of Starres in general;The Suruey. which being thus decyphered, may seeme, as so manie glorious Suns, in the Firmament of the Heauens, but are in­deed as the Common-people of that Celestial Citie and Kingdome, compared with the Sun himself, sitting in the midst of Planets, as the King of Heauen, to whom al the rest of Starres make vp a Court; among whom, as a choice Hester, is one especially selected by that great Assuerus of Starres, to cast his most amorous glances and fayrest influence vpon. This happie and auspicious Starre is knowne and called by diuers names, according to the offices [Page 119] she discharges in the great Assuerus his house. For first is she stiled by the name of Venus, not as the Goddesse of Loue, which the Poets feigne, but for that she dispo­ses them to loue, whom she lwayes, and exercises her vertues on. Secondly, she is called the Morning-Starre, because she shewes and declares the Morning now at hand, and euen begins the same herself with her bur­ning torch, to glad the world withal, who then be­gins to shake off sleepe, and disperse the mistie va­pours, which so long had shadowed & clowded ouer the Gemell Starres or Eyes of the Microcosmes of men. Thirdly, they cal her Lucifer, in that her light ex­ceeds so much the other Starres; so as wel she may be sayd, the Hester of thē al. And fourthly, she is tearmed the Hesperus, for as much as she respects the ensuing night, and greatly illustrats the same with her more then ordinarie splendour and light; so as she glads the world therewith, & drawes al eyes to gaze vpon her.

Such is this special Starre indeed, the glorie of the Heauenlie Orbs; but loe, we haue another Starre in hand, dwelling in the vpper Region of the Empyreal Heauens, that greatly symbolizes with this; but as farre exceeds it (Analogically speaking) as the great Assuerus, Sun of Iustice, excelles the same of this our Fir­mament; or as much as this same Firmament itself, where GOD eternally raignes in his Empyreal and Celestial Court: to whom, I say, these seueral titles may aptly agree, according to these other things, which are sayd of her: I am the Mother of faire dilection, & of feare, & of knowledge, & of holie hope. Eccl 24. This Starre is the blessed Virgin, that may wel be tearmed Venus, because she enflames mens harts with Diuine loue; and there­fore is sayd to be the Mother of faire dilection. Then the Morning-Starre; for that she is the beginning of a new life; as the morning is the commencement of [Page 120] the ensuing day, and therefore, of feare. For feare is the beginning of grace and of a new life; according to that of the Psalmist: The feare of GOD, is the beginning of wisedome. Againe, she is sayd to be the Lucifer, for that she giues the beginning of Diuine knowledge, and so is the Mother of knowledge; And lastly Hesperus, since she so piously regards and illumines sinners, who are in the darknes of wickednes and sinne; and for that cause is fayd to be the Mother of holie hope. She is likewise called the Morning-Starre, because appearing to Mortals, she is the most certain and infallible signe of the ap­proach of the day of grace, and rising of the Sun of Iu­stice.

This Starre besides is called the Starre of the Sea; and that most fitly, if Philo most skilful of the Hebrew tongue be worthie to be beleeued, to whose interpre­tation Beda assents,Phil. de Mar [...]no. Bonau. in opera. and the Doctour S. Bonauenture in his Glosse of the Blessed Virgin; yea the Catholick Church, while she sings the Aue Maris stella, and againe Stella Maris, succurre cadenti. And truly, if Stella be sayd of stando for its stabilitie and immobilitie, then needs must Marie be a Starre, whose firmitie & stabilitie in good, is known to be such, as she neuer stept a whit frō the wil of GOD; which to no other creature once of riper yea­res was yet afforded,Iacob. 3. Bern. Ser. Super Mis. since (as the Apostle S. Iames sayth) We haue al offended in manie things. But for the glorious Virgin, as S. Bernard Sayth, She was a Starre, because that as the Starre sheads its rayes without corruptiō, so she powred forth her Sonne without impeachment of her Virginitie; And as the Starre thereby looses no light: [...]o the Virgins Sonne empayred not the light of her in­tegritie anie wayes. Reade but S. Bonauenture in his foresaid Glasse,Bonau. in spec. and he wil tel you, how fitly the Virgin heer bears the office of the marine Starre. For it is read (sayth he) and true it is, that the custome of [Page 121] Marriners is, that when they determine to sayle vnto some land, to make choice of some one Starre, by whose signe they may be lead without errour into that part they desire to arriue vnto. And such truly is the office heer of Marie our Starre, who directs the Marriners through the vast sea of the world, in the Ship of Innocencie or Pennance, to the shore of the Heauenlie countrey. And not vnlike to this, Pope in­nocent writes, being cited likewise by the sayd S. Ber­nard in the same place. By what helps (sayth he) may ships among so manie perils arriue at the shore of that Heauenlie countrie? Surely by these two, that is, through the Wood, & Starre, to wit, through fayth of the Crosse, and vertue of that Light, which Marie, that Starre of the Sea, hath brought vs forth.

Now therefore as that Starre guides and directs the saylers to their port: So this blessed Virgin is worthily called the Starre of this tēpestuous Sea of the world, while in the midst of the stormes of this life, she lends so her light to such as sayle to heauen-wards; and through her example and patronage continually di­rects them to the Hauen of the Heauenlie countrie.Bern. Ser. 20. Which S. Bernard knew wel when he sayd: This is the glorious and renowned Starre very needfully raysed vpon this great and spacious sea, shining with merits, and illu­strious in examples: if the winds of temptatiōs arise, if thou lightst vpon rocks of tribulations, if thou beest tossed by the waues of pride, & hoysed vp with the surges of ambition, looke on the Starre, cal vpon Marie, let her not depart from thy hart, let her not depart from thy mouth; And sayth presētly thervpō: In following her thou strayest not; imploring her, thou despayrest not; in thinking on her, thou errest not; while she protects, thou fearest not; thou art not wearie, while she guides; and she propitious, thou [Page 122] landst securely at the part; and shalt find in thy felf, how worthily it was sayd: the Virgins name was Marie.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

THe glorious Sunne withdrew his beames of light;
The Pause.
My sinne was cause: So I in dismal night
Am sayling in a stormie dangerous Maine;
And ere the sunne (I feare) returne againe,
Shal suffer shipwrack, where the fraite's my Soule.
My onlie Hope's a Starre, fixt neere the pole,
But that my Needle now hath lost its force,
Once touchd with grace, and saile out of course.
Starre of the Sea, thy sun hath giuen thee light;
Til he brings day, guide me in sinnes dark night.
I seeke, what Sages heertofore haue donne,
Guided by thee a Starre, to find the sunne.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. that howbeit a Starre be sayd, by many degrees to be greater then the Earth, yet seemes it to be but a spangle or fierie point only in that immense and vast vault of the Fir­mament. So likewise the Blessed Virgin though she be the greatest Starre in the Heauenlie Hierarchie, yet thought she alwayes humbly of her­self; and seemed the least & meanest of al the Daugh­ters of Hierusalem, while she liued on earth. For she was humble in mind, in word, & fact: in mind, because she euer preferred others before herself; as Ioseph: Thy Father and I with heauines haue sought thee; In word, because she called not herself the Mother of GOD, nor Ladie of the world, nor Queene of Heauen, but the handmayd of CHRIST, when she replyed so: Behold the hādmayd of our Lord; and agayne. He hath regar­ded the lowlines of his handmayd; And lastly in fact, because that after she was now become the Mother of GOD; she made herself the handmayd of Elizabeth, when she mini­stred to her for three months togeather that she re­mayned with her.

Consider then, how this Starre of ours is as the Pole-Starre or axeltree of the Firmament. For as the whole circumference of the lesser Starres encompasseth the Pole, and the wheel enuirons the axeltree round: So is the whole Firmament of Saintlie and Angelical Starres, about this singular & soueraigne Starre, that is, the whole Celestial Court of blessed Spirits, wheele, as it were; and beset the Virgin round, because they encōpasse & enuiron her about as the Queen & Ladie of thē al, according to that which the Church sings: Like the dayes of the spring-time doe the flowers of roses & lillies [Page 124] of the vallies beset her round, that is, the Orders of Confes­sours and Virgins; and the Prophet sayth: The Queen stood at thy right hād, in a garmēt al of gold with varietie beset round. For the Saints are a certain robe or garment of the blessed Virgin, adorning her richly indeed like a Ladie or Queen, where the Apostles afford the embroderie of gold; Martyrs, the ground of scarlet, Confessours, Saphyrs and Emeralds; and the Virgins, the Orient Pearls and Diamonds.

Pōder lastly, that as this Starre is moued most swiftly by the motion of its Superiour, to wit, of the vpper firmament or chief Mouer, because it dayly carries it about the world; but moues most slowly of its owne motion, for that they say it moues but one degree in a hundred yeares. So the blessed Virgin, our delicious Starre, moued neuer of her proper motion, but through the motion of her Superiour, to wit, the Holie-Ghost; for as much as moued by the Holie-Ghost made she a vow of Chastitie, and kept her virginitie inuiolable, and that perpetual; moued by the Holie-Ghost, she gaue her assent to the Conception of the Sonne of GOD in an instant; being moued to goe to serue her Coseu, presently she climbd the mountains; being moued (so great with child, and neer her time) to goe to Bethlem, she went her wayes; and lastly moued to returne againe, immediatly she returned. Behold how she moued not of herself, but meerly of the Holie-Ghost, which was within her, and guided and di­rected her in al things: for other motion in moral actions had she none.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Glorious Starre! O Mother of mercie! we haue heard,The Collo­quie. thou art ful of grace; and grace is it which we haue need of. O ful of grace! O radiant Starre! we, who are thy humble Sup­pliants, present our selues before thy Sonne, great King of Israel, with sack cloth on our back, ashes on the head, and cords about our necks, confessing our offences in thy sight, that by thy meanes, we may obtaine pardon of them. Look toward the North heer of our afflictiō, O Starre of the Sea; thou art our cōfidence; interpose thyself, between thy Sonne and thy seruants; that of the one side thou mayst appease his wrath, and of the other can­cel our sinnes; that through the heat of thy rayes, O Diuine Starre, the frigiditie of our soule may be warmed againe, that by thy aspect, the heat of the Holie-Ghost may viuify vs. O grant the same, most Orient and bright Starre of Heauen.

THE XII. SYMBOL. THE OLIVE.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Oliue, The Impresa the Fig, and Vine, are the three Triumuiri, that might wel haue shared the Monarchie of trees between them; as hauing the voyces of al the Tribunes on their parts. But the Oliue especially refu­sed the scepter, as greater in itself, then the flash and luster of Purple and Diadem could make it. It is the true Agathocles, contented with his sallets in an ear­then dish. It is euen the meek and innocent Doue of trees, as the Doue is the Oliue of birds, hauing such sympathie and faire correspondencies with them. It [Page 127] was once the gladsome mirth and ioyful solace of Noë's hart; was then, and is stil the Ensigne of peace and mercie. It is the Herald of Armes, that passeth freely to and fro, amid the holbards and squadrons of pikes, and cryes but out: hold your hands, and al is whist. It decks the browes of Poets, equal with lawrel, since Apollo and Minerua were as brother and sister, and deare to each other. It works the same effects, that Musick doth to reuiue the Spirits after a dearth, like a liuelie Galyard, after a doleful and sad Pauen. And for the Oyle, the bloud of the Oliue, it is the quintessence and creame therof. It is the fat or butter of the garden, and foyls the Dayrie, as more wholsome, and agreable with our first nature. If the Vine be the Dearling of Bacchus, the Oliue is so to Minerua, that being the Cellar of the one, and this the Apothecaries shop of the other. The Oyle is so coy and delicate, so reserued and re­collected in itself, as it opens no doores to admit anie stranger into its house. It is fierie and haughtie in its nature, and wil mount and ride on the back of al his fellowes. Yet wil it slily insinuate and familiarize it­self with its neighbours; for there is nothing wil en­croch so much and shew so slick and smooth a brow. And finally it is the ioyful smile of the husband­man, and the leaping of his hart, his barne, his cellar, and his whole Riches. It is the Wardrop to cloath his children, wherwith he payes his rent, and liues as merrie as his Landlord doth.

THE MORALS.

‘SPECIOSA ET FRVCTIFERA.’

THE Lion is a statelie and princelie crea­ture,The Motto. and held to be the King of beasts, but is not fruitful; because lightly they whelp but one at once, and that but rarely too, as once in fiue yeares only; while the Wren wil bring fortha 16. or 20. yong in a neast, that besides a litle skin and bone is litle more then a tuft of feathers. The Sicamour is a goodlie and beautiful tree, and hath so faire a leaf, so smooth and delicat, as a reasonable Taylour might wel haue made therof a gowne and cloke for Adam and Eue. And yet this galland tree is wholy barren; wheras the Slowe, though she beare a world of fruit, they are but sowre, and she no more then a thorn, Sara, the wife of Abraham, was so faire and beautiful, as Abraham himself had some litle iealousies of her; and Pharao was so passionatly enamoured with her, as to snatch her away from him, and to carrie her to his Court. But yet she was not fruitful, while she had much ado, to bring an Isaac into the world. Lia indeed was very fruitful, and brought her Iacob manie children; but she was but bleer-eyed and ilfauoured, and Iacob illu­ded in taking her for another. Rachel indeed was gra­cious and extreme faire, but barren, that with al her Mandragoras was hardly able, to bring her Iacob a Ioseph; and the litle Beniamin cost her her life. Only the Virgin Marie was truly faire and fruitful both togeather, who remayning stil a Virgin, was yet so fruitful, as to bring forth not a Ioseph, or a Sauiour of a few, or a Beniamin, Wo to his mother, but a IESVS and a [Page 129] Sauiour indeed of the world, being the true Primogeni­tus of an infinit ofspring of Christians, succeeding in the world; and particularly of true Parthenians. And therefore was truly SPECIOSA ET FRVCTIFERA.

THE ESSAY.

BY the Oliue, The Reuiew: is vnderstood the tree, the fruit, the oyle. As for the tree, if man be a tree, turnd vpside downe, as some wil haue it, whose bodie is the trunck, his legs and armes the branches, and whose head the root, where, by the mouth, it takes its nutriment; the Oliue is that tree, since no other tree resembles him so wel. For no other tree, is so ciuilized as it; no other tree so vseful and profitable to the neighbour; no other tree, so medicinal. The first makes him a Citi­zen, at least a free Denison amongst men; the second, a Marchant; and the third, a Physician; and what are these but trades, faculties, and professions of men? Minerua was the first as the Paynim Antiquitie wil haue it, who found-out the culture and planting of the Oliue, and expressiō of the lickour thence, or pres­sing of the Oyle; howbeit they grant the Plant had been euer existing, and had growne before, but alto­geather vnknowne to men, among the other trees. And for a good while was not the Oliue to be found, but with the Athenians; and therefore the Epidaurians contracted with them, to send them yearly Oliue branches for their Sacrifices. And for as much as the lickour of the Oliue, as the Oyle expressed, is apt for al arts, they held Minerua was the Inuentresse of al arts. For surely, there is hardly anie Art, that makes [Page 130] not vse of this vnctuous lickour, we cal Oyle of Oliues. There are two sorts of these Oliue-trees; the one Ci­uil, as I sayd, and fit for Citties, bred and trayned vp in Gardens, wel cloathed with Oliue-coulour suits without, and faced or lined with ash-coulour within; the other Wild, and fitter for the forrests, being somewhat of a harsher & more churlish disposition; as being ful of thorns and prickles mingled with the leaues, and whose fruit seldome or neuer come to good, as hauing little acquaintance or familiaritie with the Sun, that perfects al things, by reason of the thickets of the forrests where they dwel, which hinder it. But for the nobler & more generous Oliue, they are high and tal of stature, wel branched, and with as manie armes and hands to feed vs with, as had Briarius to sling and hurt with. Their flowers and blossomes cluster togeather, like to grapes; the fruit, made Oual-wise, being long and round, about the bignes of our damsons; whose bones within, were they as smal as the flesh is good, the marchāts needed not to venture so far as to the Indies for gold or spi­ces, while Spayne and Italie would hold them trade enough. As for the Oyle, the Poets, who are punc­tual & Religious in their Epithets, are wont to ador­ne and mark out al other lickours with their proper attributs, as to tearme the milk, candid; the honie, liquid gold; the Rose, crimson; the wine, brisk; but the Oyle of al others, they cal humid, a qualitie com­mon to al lickours, chiefly, for that it hath no ariditie of anie mixture with it, as other lickours haue, euen the water itself, there being nothing more smooth, slick, and lesse porie, then it. It hath besides very faire correspondencie with the eyes, and little lesse then good wil between them; affording itself to be easily gazed on, as a glasse; and though not so [Page 131] transparent as other lickours, yet more reflectiue & representatiue, then others. It is apt to burne, as being so liquid, as I sayd; for were it ayrie, it would vanish into smoke; if earthlie, turne to ashes; but being humid, it spends itself, and nourishes the fire. Finally this sweet lickour, as the friend and dear companion of Nature, restores the fraile forces, comforts the languishing vigour, repayres and nou­risheth the bodie in decay, clarifyes the voice, dissi­pates, resolues, and quite consumes the coldnes of humours, and asswages tumours; and what not?

THE DISCOVRSE.

THE Sacred Scriptures shew,The Suruey Iudic. 9. that when the Trees decreed among themselues, to elect a King, the first they cast their voy­ces on, to haue aduanced to that Regal dignitie, and weild the Scepter, was the Oliue of al other; for that, the first and principal thing they re­quire in such a one, to gouern subiects with, must needs be Pietie and Mercie, whose type indeed the Oliue beares. No man denyes, but the Incomparable Virgin is worthily heer compared to the Oliue-tree; of whom is sayd:Eccl. 24. As it were an Oliue specious in the fields. Sin­ce then that Supreme, Soueraigne, and more then Royal dignitie of Mother of God, was conferred so vpō her in her Annunciation, as on the mystical Oliue, af­ter the receauing of that Imperial title, her Charitie & Mercie appeared more then euer, as became a Queē. And as in the Annuntiation of the immaculate Mother of God, the Doue was a true type of her; so is the Oliue-tree no lesse, wheron she sate a liuelie & represētatiue figu­re; between which two, are so great correspōdencies, [Page 132] which Philisophers cal a sympathie. Cal then to mind that admirable Doue, which Noe, the great restorer of the world, from that vast and huge Argo [...]rie of his, or rather vnmeasurable Chest, wherin he had en­closed and shut-vp the world, as vnder lock and key, sent forth to be his Spy and Intelligencer abroad, to vnderstand, how matters went with the other world so buryed vnder waters. Who flying freely through the emptie world, within the liquid ayre, prying euerie where with the pearcing cast of her litle eyes, the elder world beginning now at length to discouer some part of its lamētable ruines, when she mought wel haue lighted either on some statelie Cedar, or victorious Palme, vpon some mountainous Cypresse, or robustuous Oak, or els on a prudent Mulberrie, the most sweet Fig-tree, or most florishing Almond: yet she belike as slighting them al, and al other kinds of plants or fruits whatsoeuer, made choice of the Oliue to set her litle foot vpon; and with her litle bil, as a wise and ingenious Spy, to fasten on some proof or argument, to bring away with her of the faire dis­patch of her negociation, which was to bring her maister certain & infallible tidings of the discouerie and recouerie anew of that greater world. Returning to the Arck againe, as Scriptures testify, she brought along with her a branch of that Oliue-tree: the 70. reade a leaf, a sprig of Oliue, or, as others, a fescue (as it were) therof, to wit, with leaues, or the top only and most slender twig of an vpper bough, as Del [...]ius expounds it; for so might the Doue very easily twitch it off.

Wherefore we aptly marke the Oliue in the whole Mysterie of the Annunciation, as the Symbol of Mercie and Peace. For in the same was made the first begin­ning of human Redemption, as also of the Diuine [Page 133] benignitie and liberalitie; which to the end that Pa­tron and louer of men the Sonne of GOD might truly shew, it was needful, through the bowels of mercie to visit vs rising from aboue; which in this Mysterie was truly done, when Gabriel taking the person of an Embassa­dour, deliuered his Embassage to Marie, whom if you conceaue as the Doue of Noë, bringing in his hand a sprig of green and flourishing Oliue with him, as the ensigne of his Legation, you shal not think amisse; since the Oliue-branch is euen with the Gentils them­selues, the Symbol of mercie, but in a singular and peculiar manner denotes to vs the Virgin in the Thea­ter of the Annunciation.

But heer may we demand with S. Ambrose: how came it to passe, the Oliue should flourish so suddenly after the Deluge, and put forth a twig so soone? doub­ting, whether that leaf (for so he calles it) sprung before the floud, or, during it; concludes it did, and that the iust Noë reioyced, to see some fruit reserued of the old seed; and gathered thence a notable signe of the Diuine Mercie, for that as then he had remo­ued the deluge, shewing the fruit which the inundatiō could not hurt, as holding the litle branch of green Oliue to be a signe therof, which euen flourished in the midst of the waters and vniuersal inundation of vin­dicatiue Iustice, since this Oliue of Mercie could not be drownd, swallowed, or withered wholy. Wherein truly may we worthily contemplate our blessed Virgin Marie expresly deciphered, as the especially and most singularly preserued plant of this mysterious Oliue, which euen flourishing before the floud, ceased not likewise to be green and prosper in the verie floud. For if the iust man worthily reioyced to behold yet some fruit to remaine of the old seed; could he choose but admire this mystical branch of our [Page 134] Oliue heer, which euen so great an vniuersal floud of Sinne could no whit domage?

Heer now the Hebrewes would haue Mount-Oliuet not to haue been couered wholy with the waters of the floud, and how that branch of Oliue was taken from that Mount-Oliuet. Others report it to haue been fetcht out of Paradice. Both which I hold ficti­tious, if we speake of the Mount or Paradice in a literal or historical sense; and otherwise most cer­tain, if we vnderstand it in the mystical. For the Mother of Christ is mystically indeed the Mount of Oliues, and she also the Paradice of pleasure, wher­in our Lord hath placed the man whom he had formed. This Mount of Oliues then, this Paradice, no floud of ouer-flowing sinnes hath drowned or couered.

THE EMBLEME.

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THE POESIE.

NOT without cause the Oliue-tree is slow
And backward in it's growth: The fruit doth show,
The Pause.
By th' oyle it yealdes (the type of Mercie) long
We did expect, before that tender, yong,
And fruitful tree, the Oliue, from the earth,
(The blessed Virgin) sprung, by whose blest birth,
The oyle of Mercie, from the fruit did slow,
Which with the tree grew vp, and grew vp so,
As the first Oliue tree, not slow in growth,
But branch'd, & leau'd, & fruitful. Mercie both
(Like oyle) the Tree & Fruit, produce: a Priest
Messias in her Womb's annoynted Christ.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. that as the Oliue is euer green, both in Sommer, Winter, Spring, and Autumne; and what hew it receaues in the Spring, it stil retaines the dead of Winter, when al other trees besides haue either no leaues, or els are changed into other coulours, as tasting the common calamitie of al Plants, some few excepted. So the incomparable Virgin Marie neuer lost the flou­rishing greennes of her sanctitie, eyther in the smi­ling Sommer of her abundant consolation in her ioyful passages with her deer Sonne; or in the sad Winter of her greatest desolatiō, as when she lost him in the Temple, and when she found him afterwards hanging on a forren tree, so strangely altered, as he could hardly be knowne, in his passion; nor in the Spring of her youth, while she liued in the house of her Parents, and especially in the Temple of our Lord, du­ring her minoritie; nor yet in the Autumne of her el­derage, since look what feruour she had in youth, the same she stil retained in her elder yeares.

Consider then, how the blessed Virgin, and her deer Sonne, were both Oliues, to wit, the fruits of Oliues. For as the Oliues are first green,Isid. then red, then brown or black: so was the Virgin-Mother green through the precious and ifitemerate flower of her Virginitie; red, through her burning and enflamed Charitie; and brown or black,Cant. 1. through humilitie. I am black behold the brownnes of her humilitie; but faire: see there the flourishing state of her Virginitie; like to the skins of Salomō: where you may note the rednes of her charitie. And for her Sonne, the yong Oliue, He was green in his [Page 137] whole conuersation.Leuit. 23. If in green wood they do this, what wil be done in the dry? Isay. 69. He was red in his passion: Wherefore is thy garment red, and thy vestments like to those, who stamp or tread in the presse? And black he was, at his death: while the Sun became black as a Sack-cloth.

Ponder lastly, how Christ himself was truly the Oliue; and the Virgin-Mother, but as the Oliue. He was truly the Oliue, because he had the total and vniuersal Mercie with him, and was indeed the natural Mercie himself, since it was indeed his verie nature, & proper to him, to haue mercie, and take compassion of al: while the Virgin was but as an Oliue; for that she was so accusto­med to pittie, and so readie and prompt to compas­sion, as she seemed in a sort most like vnto him.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Delicious and fruitful Mother, The Collo­quie. doe thou shew thy self a true Mother; and doe not reiect me from thy bosome, so open to al sinners. O Virgin Mother, O Oliue truly fruitful in the house of GOD: according to thy name, let me proue the effects therof: for thy name dilates itself like Oyle; thou healest the wounded, thou giuest light to the ignorant; thy name seemes to carrie a bitter­nes with it, and yet affords vs a sweet and delicate oyle or balme of mercie and grace, more sweet then honie, or the honie-comb, and thy name,Eccl. 25. in the mouth, is ful of suauitie and delectation. O how faire is thy mercie, in time of tribulation! For then dost thou powre it forth, when the necessitie is most euident, Mother of mercie, who presentst thyself most prompt to al, that erre and goe astray: Doe me the grace, to participate of the fruit of thy name: Giue me a special deuotion to praise thee, a loue to loue thee, and a perfect humilitie to follow thee, through the fruit of thee, the Oliue, thy blessed Sonne IESVS.

THE XIII. SYMBOL. THE NIGHTINGAL.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Nightingal is the litle Orpheus of the woods, and the true Amphion of the for­rest,The Impresa. that hath for Lyre the litle Clari­gal, or Organ of his throat; wherin he is so expert, as not contented to out­strip others, he wil neuer lyn, til with running his di­uisions, he hath put himself to a Non-plus, for want of breath: and then wil look about him, as he had done some thing, and some notable conquest, when it is but himself or his owne Eccho he hath so foyled, and put to silence. He is the pety Quirister of the [Page 139] Groues, that sings his Anthems and prettie Alleluyas in the night, giuing the word to Chantecler, the obstre­perous Cock, to ring the world an Alarme or peal to Mattins. He is so prowd of his musick, and hath so good a conceipt therof, as he wil not consort with anie other minstril besides, to fil-vp his melodious Symphonies, but wil alone haue al the pipes to him­self. He is a true Musician indeed, that hath a litle of the fantastick with him; and wil in a humour, if he iarre but neuer so little with himself, of meer choler be readie to break his pipes to peeces. It is wel he sings no words or Dittyes to his Sol-fa; for if he did, we should doubtles loose our selues, and be rauished and reft of our senses. And much I doubt, whether the Intelligences themselues would not quite giue ouer their musick, to listen to his Mottets. His vsual songs are certain Catches and Roundelayes he hath, much after the manner of the French Braules; you would take him verily to be a Mōsieur of Paris streight, if you heard but his preludiums; for then indeed is he set on a merrie pin. Sometimes againe wil he be in a melancholie dump, and strik you such Notes, as Dowland himself neuer strock, in al his Plaints and Lachrymies. It is then perhaps, when he feels so the prickle at his breast, in the midst of his Nocturns. For then like a right Michael-Angelo with his statue framed to the life, which seemes to liue and breath, wil he make his pipes to speak out plainely: Ay me! Ah! Eheu! They are Hermits al, for the most part, and keep in the wildernes; and are so contemplatiue, as they hate the Citties, and neuer come there but as Captiues, sore against their wil. It is maruel, there is such store of them, and that euer they should leaue the single life, and betake them to the coniugal state, but that Cha­stitie indeed is a strayne beyond their Ela.

THE MORALS.

‘IN ORE MELOS, CORDE IVBILVS.’

IT is a common Prouerb: Musica in luctu, The Motto. importuna narratio: as much to say, as Musick in mourning, is a harsh hea­ring. And yet the Rauen hath had the commendation of a good voice, and been seriously told, she had a good one; but whosoeuer it was, he did but to flatter her grosly to herface, & spake not as he thought indeed, but to bring her into a foole's Paradise, and to sooth her vp for some politick ends of his owne. But what haue we heer to doe with such Saxtons, as she, that rings but knells to passengers out of this world? Wel­fare the Swan yet, who though she sings very dole­fully, yet doth it very sweetly; nor should I think the Swallow had reason of her side, to contend with her for skil in musick; for if her tune be reasonable good, she hath no varieties; & though she sing very cheer­fully and hath iubiley in the hart, yet hath she no great melodie in her mouth. The Philomel is truly she of al wind-instruments, that carries the siluer bel away. For she wil iug-it forth both cheerfully and sweetly to. She wil sing from the hart, as hauing an innocent soule of her owne, not an ounce of care within, nor so much as a Doit of debts to pay. A good Musiciā indeed can not choose but be an honest man; nor doe I see, how an honest man can be ought els, then a good Musician; since Musick is no more then a harmonie and sweet accord of diuers tones into one melodie, without any iarre or discord between them. And Man is a Harp; the Powers and Faculties of the Soule, the strings; and Reason, the Harper. If Rea­son [Page 141] then playes wel his part, which makes the honest man, Oh what a harmonie there is in al, & especially where the tongue and hart agree togeather? When Dauid playd on the harp, the il Spirit fled frō Saul. And why? because he hateth vnitie and concord: Whereas had he iarr'd but neuer so litle, the Spirit had stayd no doubt. Is it so in the Harp, & not in the Organ of the voyce? No doubt it is. As the hand striks, what the hart dictats, so the mouth puts forth, of the abundan­ce of the hart. The hart then of the Incomparable Virgin, so innocent and free from al engagements, how cheerful of necessitie must it needs be? and being so ful of glee and iubiley, how must she needs exhale & vent forth melodie? and consequently, how diuinely brake she forth into that melodious Canticle of her Magnificat? And if euer els where, was that truly veri­fyed in her: IN ORE MELOS, CORDE IVBILVS.

THE ESSAY.

IT is one of the prettiest sports of Natu­re,The Reuiew. when she is in her deepest silence, to heare the litle Nightingal to warble, in tel­ling and recounting her delights & plea­sures to Zephirus and the forrests, tuning a 1000. Canzonets, and sweetly cutting the ayre with repetitiō of a hundred thousand semi-semi-quauers, which she lets go without cease. To take her pleasure and recreation, she wil ballance her self vpon a branch that shakes, to dance Laualtoes as it were at the Cadēce of her lighter sōgs, & to match her voyce with the siluer streames of a chrystal currant, gliding there along, which breaking against the litle pibles, murmures and sweetly purls, while she pearches and sets herself iust ouer a banck enameled al with [Page 142] litle flowers. This litle Musician alone making vp a song of foure Parts, and a ful Quire of musick, you would say she held within her throat, a thousand Quiristers, and as manie Violins, and that the litle cornet of her beak were in steed of al the wind-in­strumēts. It is admirable in so smal a bodie, so cleere, so sweet, so strong, and pleasant a voice should be found; that in the Spring, when trees begin to bud their leaues, whole dayes and nights perpetually she should sing without intermission at al. For whence from so litle a bird, so bold and pertinacious a spirit? Whence that force of containing yet the soule, in chanting so manie diuersities in the continuation of one song? and where, I pray, are the liuelie streight­nings and remissions of the voice cōtained? Whence so artificious and so perfect a knowledge of musick, so ingenious a modulation, so gratful a tone to the eares, which now with a continued breath is drawne out at length, now turns againe with a strange and admirable varietie, distinguished with a slicing voice, and then with a wreasted, peeced togeather? There is truly no Song so hard and abstruse, which she can not expresse, ful, flat, sharp, quick, long, high, meane, base, what more? Now in these litle throats, are al kinds of songs to be found entire and perfect; which, with so much labour, with so much industrie, and with so manie instruments inuented, the Art of man hath deuised. But oh what sport it is, when this litle feathered voice, this prettie harmonie in the shape of a bird, this litle end of nothing, as it were, being viuifyed with musick, is euen readie to kil her­self with singing, when she heares the counterfet Nightingal (the Eccho) to mock her, in repeating and returning her whole melodie againe! For then she mounts vp, as it were, to the heauens, and then [Page 143] stoops againe to the Center of the earth, she flyes, she followes, she sighs, she sobs, she is angrie, and then pleas'd againe, she mingles the sharp with the sweet, the sharp with the B. flat; one while a Chromatick, then a sweeter stroke, now strikes a Diapente, and thē a Diapasō. She counterfets the Hawboy, Cornet, & Flute; she deuids, she gargles, & hath her Groppo, the trills, and the like, and al in that her litle throat, but yet can varie nothing, but the Eccho imitates and expresses; til at last, as it were, she looseth al pa­tience, falles into a litle chafe with herself, in that seing nothing, she heares notwithstanding, and so flyes into some bush to hide her self for shame, til prickt with a thorn, at last she is pushed to sing againe; which she doth without measure, where al is delicious as before.

THE DISCOVRSE.

BVT what are al these to the sweet modu­lations of Maries voice,The Suruey. wherewith she tuned a Canticle of her Diuine Soule, sure­ly a magnifying of GOD, to be imitated of no Nightingal els inferiour to her self, whether we regarde the manifold varietie of her voice, or the delectable sweetnes, or pertinacitie in the cōtinuation therof? The Orpheans, Amphions, Arions, the Orlandos, and Marenzas, yea the Sirens them selues, with casting downe their eyes would goe their wayes confounded, and breake their harps and other instruments into peeces, had they heard the melodie of that Diuine Voice of hers. O let thy voice then sound in mine eares? for thy voice is sweet. Cant. The Nightingals are sayd to be of two sorts: some conuersant in the moun­tains, and some in the marishes; which wil appeare [Page 144] by the manner of their singing, there being no com­parison between them; since the one doth far excel the other, whether it be the litle pipes of their or­gans be stopt by the vapours of those humid places, I know not, but am sure of this, that Iulius Alexandrinus vpon the 9. booke of Galen, puts a notable difference between them; for thus he sayes: It is noted, that the Nightingals of the plaine and marish places,Alex 9 l. Galen. are wont to giue forth a voice a great deale shirler, then those of the mountains, the organ of the voice relenting no doubt through too much moisture, as they cannot haue so smart, cunning, & tunable a voice with them, as the others haue.

Behold then our Lalie a Nightingal of the mountains: For Marie arising went into the mountains, and so became the Nightingal of the mountains. She inhabited not the fens or marishes of dissolute lubricitie, abode not in the playnes of an ordinarie vertue, but left the vallies of baser cogitations, aspired to the tops of Heroical vertues, placed the nest in the sublimitie of Diuine contemplations, and dwelt in the top of the mount of Perfection; whence proceeded that sweet voice, more sweet then anie mortal harmonie besides: My Soule doth magnify our Lord.

Let others with the tongue, hand, or breath charme the delicate eares; let them wind the Cornet, with a thousand diminutions, runne diuisions on the Harp­sicon or Virginals: Let them pay the Violin as much as they wil, spatter the Lute, touch the Orpharion neuer so sweetly, the Cithern, Pandore, and the Harp itself: Yet this Canticle of Magnificat in my mind ex­ceeds them al, and wil stand for Organs, Flutes, Cornets, Harps, Lutes, Citherns, Pandoras, and a thousand the like. This is the Musick indeed that pleased GOD, and which I like best, which the syl­lables [Page 145] of the Soule and hart doe make, while the tongue playes the Harp. GOD magnifyed Marie because he made her great; Marie magnified GOD, because she proclaimed him Great.

When I think of our Nightingal, what hast she made to goe vnto the mountains, it comes into my mind, what a certain Authour hath, writing of the na­ture of things: That the Nightingal is wont to sing with expedition and celeritie.Vliss. Aldr. Ornith. l. 28. p. 780. But what are the causes of her so hastie and precipitous speed? The Naturalists wil tel you: perhaps, because she feares, least the time of her singing passe away; perhaps she hastens, least her tunes otherwise would seeme harsh and vngratful to delicate eares; perhaps, because she would charme the eares more powerfully and politely withal. But why made Marie such hast then? Let Ambrose tel vs: The Virgin made hast, that she might not re­maine long in publick out of her house. Learne, you Virgins, sayth he, not to stay in the streets, nor to hold vnprofitable chats in publick. Againe let Ambrose tel vs: She hastned for ioy, where­with the Virgins hart exulted to GOD. Let him tel vs a third time againe: The Virgin being ful of GOD, whither should she goe but to the higher places, with ful speed? The grace of the Holie-Ghost knowes no delayes. Let Origen yet tel vs: For that CHRIST, who was in the Virgins womb, made hast to sanctify Iohn, and cleanse him from Original sinne. O let our Nightingal therefore sing apace.

But hearken awhile, you Musicians, how the Nightingal sings; obserue her wel, and you shal note, how she pauses not, but equally sings at length with a cōtinual breath without anie chāge, stil holding out [Page 146] her wind to the ful: now she sings her diminutions, and diuides in infinitum; now she wrigles and curles her voice as it were, now she lengthens it againe, now she drawes it back; one while she chants forth longer verses, as they were Heroicks; another while, more short and sudden, much like vnto Saphicks; and sometimes againe, extreme short as Adonicks. Now she tunes with a fat and grosser voice, you would ve­rily say, it were a Sack but at least: anon rings she forth a most shril treble, as fetched a note aboue Ela at least; cleer; to fil the eares with a siluer sound; sweet, to charme the hearing with deliciousnes, running Descant as it were, vpon the ground of her lower Notes; and now she goes smooth & euen againe, now seeme you to heare a Tenour voice, then a Counter, & a Counter-alt following and chasing one another with certain fugnes. But Oh terrene Philomel, thou art but a babler heer, with al thy trilloes, if thou standst in competencie in Musick with this Diuine Nightingal.

Let vs heare then this Celestial Bird: My soule doth magnify the Lord. What is this I heare? What is it, that filles so mine eares? What is it? what a melodie and most delicious sound it makes? which being con­ioyned with vnequal pauses, but yet distinct, with certain quauer-rests, and not with an artlesse voice vnskilfully come off, nor with affectatiō ridiculously handled; nor with a swelling of the throat vncomely to see to, nor expressed with instruments il tuned, but most diuinely and sweetly done, with a gratful inflection of the natural voice, which tempering the Flat with the Sharp, the rough with the sweet, the obscure with the plaine and perspicuous, the ligatu­res with the free, the slow with the quick, in one ex­presseth most different harmonies. Let [...] [Page 147] the musick Magnificat &c. which if we relish wel, and the eares of our soule be not wholy out of tune, we shal find most melodious indeed, and framed not only with admirable artificiousnes and skil, but tem­pered with a singular sweetnes and varietie withal. For therin is heard the height of Diuinitie in the Treble, My spirit hath exulted in GOD my SAVIOVR: the vilenes of the Humanitie, and so the bottom and the Base of demission, He hath regarded the lowlines of his hand mayd: the Alt of Power, He hath done great things for me, who is powerful: the Tenour of Mercie, And mercie from generation to generation to them that feare him: the Graue or Flat of vindicatiue Iustice, The prowd hath he dispersed in the mind of their hart: the Sharp of Exulta­tion, My spirit hath exulted in GOD my SAVIOVR: the Sweet of Refection and refreshment, He hath filled the hungrie with good things: the Chromatick or harshnes of Rebuke, The rich hath he sent emptie away: the fatnes or fulnes of Fidelitie, He hath receaued his child: the ar­tificiousnes of Reuelation, As he hath spoken: the con­sonance of both Instruments, to Abraham and his seed for euer.

THE EMBLEME.

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THE POESIE.

EVE, like a Nightingal, was plac'd to sing
In Eden, where, with euerlasting spring.
GOD for her solace pleasant arbours rays'd,
Had she with lowlie straines her Maker prays'd.
The Pause.
But to an Alt her mind aspir'd too high,
Would be like GOD, affecting Deitie,
Therefore from Eden's spring she was expel'd,
Sad Philomel, to mourne: Til GOD beheld
A Nightingal with an exulting straine,
That magnifyed her Lord. But downe againe
She lowly stoop'd, & iug'd it, when she sayd:
He hath beheld euen me a seruile Mayd.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, that as the searchers in­to natural things;The Contemplation: haue deliuered, al birds haue their peculiar Notes, which are as their proper Dialects, in the region of their kinds, & by which, when they are not seen, they are easily distinguished one frō another, saue only the Nightingal, which hath no proper Note of its owne, but rather alone is a Quire of al the Musical birds in the world. So is it right with our heauenlie and diui­ne Nightinga; for as al other creatures chant forth the prayses of their Creatour with Notes each one in their seueral kinds, our Nightingal warbles them, with the diuersitie of al voices, with the voice of the Angels, of men, & of things that want both reason and sense.

Consider then, that, as Plinie sayth, the Nightingal sings not so artificiously by nature so much as by art; while the yong are taught to warble of the elder. The yonger (sayth he) do meditate and receaue their verses frō the elder to practise, to imitate: the schol­lars attentiuely listen, and proue their Notes, and by turnes hold their peace. You may note a correction in the learner, and a kind of reprehension in the tea­cher. Where behold, how S. Iohn was a yong Nightingal; and if you doubt it, aske of him, if he be so or no: he wil tel you: He is the voice of the desert; Which is nothing els but a Nightingal. For if you pul but the feathers of his titles from him, you wil find but a voice, and no­thing els; and what is that but a Nightingal, that sings as it is taught by an elder one? whē being in his Mo­thers womb, and hearing this our Nightingal, to lead him a verse of her Canticle of Magnificat; he prouing to follow and sing likewise, as then could no more, but skip and dance.

Ponder lastly, that as the Nightingal, though often she [Page 150] be iouial & ful of glee, & out of iolitie of hart doth often sing in the publick groaues among a thousand of other quiristers besides, vying and inuiting them al to sing to the prayse of their common Creatour: Yet wil she sometimes by herself alone be singing in pri­uate also in a bush, where hauing a thorn at her breast, it is incredible, the varieties she wil put forth, that were euen able to rauish the Intelligēces themselues, could they heare her at leasure, and were not occu­pyed already with their owne Musick. So our blessed Virgin, the Nightingal of Heauen, though she would often sing in the companie of Angels, as likely was she rarely without their companie, with whom she would chant Alleluyas more audible and melodiously; yet sometimes againe she would retire herself, and the thorns of her deerest beloued through a liuelie memorie sticking at her breast, & pricking the hart, it can not be imagined, how dolefully, and yet how sweetly, she would sing.

THE APOSTROPHE.

BEhold,The Collo­quie. great Chorist and Rectrice of the Angelical Quire, we poore petty-Quiristers beneath, haue our eyes cast vpon thy al-commanding Rod, to moderate our Time, that with due proportiō heer on earth, we may answer in some maner to that vpper Quire in heauen, chanting the prayses of our cōmon Lord & great Creatour. ô Marie, ô Diuine Nightingal; thy Quire beneath is held in the whole Church: but thy priuate Schoole is kept in the Cōclaue of the Hart, where thou art wont to teach thy Deuotes, to sing aright, how with the Voice, the Hart should iump withal, & the hand and foot be keeping a iust Time, that is, with our hart, voice, example, and good works, that we keep an euen time with thee, in correspondencie of that great Magnificat of thine. Come then, great Chantresse of heauen, and errect thy schoole within my hart, & teach it to sing forth his praises with out cease. Lo heer, I say, let thy voice sound in mine eares; for thy voice is sweet.

THE XIV. SYMBOL. THE PALME.

THE DEVISE.

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THE CHARACTER.

THE Palme is the inuincible Champion among trees,The Impresa whose chiefest point of valour consists in bearing iniuries and oppressiōs, without shrinking. It is euen a verie Atlas, for the breadth and sturdi­nes of its shoulders; which the more you loade, the stoutlyer it stands to it: It is for name and qualities a Phenix right; & therefore as they sympathize much, the Phenix wil lightly take vp his Inne no where els. And verily I think, if the Phenix were to be a tree, it would be no other; and I doubt much whether if the Palme could metamorphize itself, it would wish to be [Page 152] anie other, then it is. It is a whole prouisiō for the vse of man: so as a new marryed couple might wel go o [...] howse with such a stock. They are euen as Turtles among trees, & constant Louers to each other. They are so amourous one of an other, as they wil hardly liue without the societie of each other; and yet so chast, as they breed and bring forth without contac­tion. As the Turtle-widowes sit mourning on a withered branch, or die of greef; so wil the Palme in loosing his mate become a withered tree, and pine away. If diuers sexes they haue with them (as some think) they are the constant Vlisses, and chast Penelope; if not, a Damon and Pithias. Of al trees, the Palme comes neerest to a reasonable soule, if Loyaltie and friend­ship be according to reason, who are so passionatly carryed towards each other. No maruel then the Pal­me alone, is so taken vp to heauen, as Scepter of the Martyrs, where nought but reasonable things can haue admittance. The Male, that beares no fruit himself, in a manner is endles and euerlasting, because Date­les, as without dates; and the femal though fruitful & ful of dates, yet bearing pulles her not downe, but is for al her dates as durable euery whit as the other. They are the Hermit's Kitchin & Refectorie at once; whose dates they eate no otherwise then as they come already cooked and dressed on the tree. They shew a far off like Tropheys hangd with Fauchions or Turkie Scimiters; but neerer hand, as loaden and adorned with strange leaues, insteed of armes or branches without boughes. By reason wherof no bird can hansomely pearch vpon them: which priui­ledge is only reserued to the Phenix, where she wil­lingly and deliciously plants her cradle, her couch, her Temple of the Sun, her Aultar of holocausts, and finally her tomb at one.

THE MORALS.

‘DEPRESSA RESVRGENS.’

THE Vertues of Fortitude and Patience may seeme as two,The Motto. but are easily reduced to one, that is, to a stout Patience, or pa­tient Fortitude. If you deuide them, For­titude attempts without temeritie; and hauing once begun, without al feare goes through with it. Patience hath large shoulders, and fit to beare a burden of iniuries, which it suffers not of pusillani­mitie or basenes, as not daring to reuenge it self, but out of a true and Christian magnanimitie, because he may not. Fortitude seekes not dangers, but meeting with them, beares them brauely indeed with courage and good successe. Patience is so subiect to it self, as iniuries can not subdue it, as holding this Maxim, that the whole victorie consists in yealding. Fortitu­de is sole Mistris of it self, submitting passions to Reason's lore, through which interiour victorie it works its owne peace. Patience walkes aboue Na­ture, so long as it is beneath itself. Fortitude is trou­bled at nothing, but for displeasing the Soueraigne Good, and feares nothing but Sinne. Patience makes vse of Lawes for its onlie protection, not for reuen­ge, and its owne forces, to eschew indignities and not to offer them. If Fortitude haue a quarel in hand, it regards not the arme, but the cause, not how stout it is, but how innocent; and where it hath equitie for warrant, wel may it be maistered, but not vanquished. The contrarie euents, do only exer­cise, but not affright it; and whensoeuer it is [Page 154] pressed with afflictiō, it acknowledgeth the inuisible hand to be ouer it, that layes very sensible scourges vpon it, against which it dares not rebel or murmur a whit. This stout Patience then, or patient Fortitude, this Heroical constancie (I say) the glorious Virgin had, through the whole course of her blessed life, but especially in bearing the dolours of her Sonne's passiō, so equal, and perseuering so long at the foot of the Crosse, and not fainting the while, but remaining firme on her feet, so victorious a Palme of Cades, as wel might she say indeed: DEPRESSA RESVRGENS.

THE ESSAY.

THE Palme, The Reuiew. of trees is it, that beares away the palme. It is euen the Tower of Plants, both for height and strength at once; for if the Pine be higher, it is the weaker; if the Oak be stronger, it is nothing neer so high; and there­fore with Antiquitie it was the Symbol of constan­cie and victorie. It is (as I may say) the Phenix of trees, with which it hath such simpathies, as what with the Etimologie of the name, being the same in Greek, and the faire correspondencies they haue with each other, in Authours they are much con­founded. And for the Phenix, she wil neast herself in none other. The Palmes are likewise the Turtles amōg trees; for they are Male and Female, as they; they match and payre togeather as they, and are as loyal as they, and ful as chast as they. For in the absence of each other, they produce no fruit, and yet (wherin they much exceed the Turtles) they bring thē forth without cōtaction of branch or root, but it is enough that they enioy each others companie; and so great a sympathie they haue withal, that if they be trans­planted [Page 155] from each other, they mourne and languish likewise, if not dye. The Palme is euen the Magazin of al prouisions, for the vse and sustentation of man. The Indians haue need of manie things, and lo the Palme supplyes thē al; so as if anie one be industrious among them, or anie thing be very profitable, they wil say immediately: Behold the Palme. It affords them oyle, wine, and bread, as they hādle it; with the leaues they couer their houses, as we with tiles; they write theron, insteed of paper; if they put themselues to sea, the Palmes doe furnish them with al things neces­sarie thereto; and not only with victuals, but euen the very vessel in itself is nothing els but Palme. The trunck and branches yeald them masts and boards; the leaues being wouen, make vp their sayles; with the bark, they frame their tacklings and cordage. So as not without some miracle, as it were, may you say, when you see a Man-of-warre of theirs, or a mar­chant's ship, behold a Palme, how it rides vpon the seas.

THE DISCOVRSE.

BEhold heer the true triumphant Palme in­deed,The Suruey. the Queen of Heauen, who notwith­standing al her combats and bitter ago­nies in the passion of her Sonne, yet stil she triumphed ouer al, especially in her glo­rious Assumption: I am exalted as a Palme in Cades, that is, in my Assumption, since Cades is interpreted: Translation; for who sees not the Assumption of the Mother of GOD, to be nothing els, but a certain translation of her frō this Militant to the Triumphant Church? A Palme being oppressed with a heauie weight, was put vp in the Obsequies of Marguerit of Austria, with this Deuise: [Page 156] Subacta mole resurgo; representing therin, how the Iust shal arise at the last Resurrection, like the Palme, more faire and beautiful then before; though formerly op­pressed, by the burden of death and of human ne­cessitie. And so was it with our incomparable Ladie in an eminent degree, especially (I say) at her glorious Assumption.

Among the Palmes, there are Male and Female; and the Female neuer brings forth fruits, but standing opposit by her Male; and hence it is, that two Palmes, being planted by two banck-sides of a riuer, are the Hieroglifick of Nuptials, with Valerius: & especially, say I, of the Spiritual Nuptials between the Spouse, & his Spouse, between Christ and his blessed Mother. Amōg these Palmes likewise, is noted this difference; that the Male growes and flourishes sooner then the Femal; and so fares it heer with our two Palmes, our Sauiour Christ, and his deare Mother. Where, of the first sayth the Prophet: The iust shal flourish like the Palme; And the latter sayth of herself:Psal. 31 I am exalted like a Palme in Cades; with this difference,Eccl. 24. that Christ much sooner then his Mother arising to immortal life, seemed to flourish sooner:Psal. 27. as he testifyes of himself: And my flesh hath flourished. But the blessed Virgin dying some yeares afterwards, and gloriously resuscitated, did flourish indeed, but so as after him.

It is sayd moreouer, that though the Palme grow higher then manie trees, yet neuer arriues it to the height of the Cedar. So likewise, though our mysti­cal Palme, our admirable Ladie, were raysed and exal­ted so high, as she far transcended the glorie of al men and Angels, yet to the height of the glorie of Christ, very aptly signified by the Cedar, was she neuer assumpted, as wel for sublimitie as innated incorru­ptibilitie; because our Lord Christ as wel in the [Page 157] Triumphant as Militant Church is the Head of the mystical Bodie, whereof his Mother was a member only, though the noblest part of al, as being the neck. Heerto may be added that prettie Deuise of Mark Anthonie, being this: a Pillar wreathed and com­posed about with two branches, the one of Palme, the other of Cypresse, with this Motto: Erit altera merces; signifying thereby, the recompence of a generous man, was either a noble Victorie, or an honourable Death; for that the Palme representing victorie, the Cypresse of the other side is a Symbol of death, being ordinarily vsed in the Funerals and Sepulchers of the dead. So was al the life of the blessed Virgin a perpetual standing pillar or Trophey, as is were, of incredible Mysteries, especially in the palme of her glorious Assumption, yet by the meanes of the Cy­presse of her death, since that was to be the way and the next step to her highest aduancement, and the greatest victorie of al.

The Palme, is sharp and rough beneath, but smooth and handsome aboue; wherein S. Gregorie sayth in his Morals, the life of the iust man is aptly represented, being bitter and rough in the exteriour shew and in the sensitiue part, but yet sweet and delightful through contentments which the soule receaues the while: So was the whole life of the Mother of GOD nothing els but a life of paynes and doulours, espe­cially at the passion of her deerest Sonne, which through compassion she made her owne, but yet sweet for the end, to wit, of a life of rest and repose afterwards in the kingdome of Heauen, and of the ineffable ioyes of her glorious Assumption by the way, as riding in Triumph. Which Saint besides, makes yet another note, which is [Page 158] this; that the Palme heerin is differing from other trees, in that the other are grosse beneath, and grow slenderer vpwards; while the Palme of the contrarie, is slender beneath, and bigger and grosser, the higher it goes: So were the thoughts of the blessed Virgin, the true Palme indeed, as poore and slender downe to the earth-wards, but substantial and solid vp to the Hea­uens, whose conuersation doubtles, as S. Paul sayth, was wholy in Heauen.

Strange things are reported of the Palmes, to liue mutually, and dye togeather. A singular type surely of the Sympathie between our two Palmes, our Christ and his blessed Mother, affording one life, and as it were one self-same death between them both. For Christ dying, she languished as dead; and he arising from his Sepulcher after his death, she reuiued againe as it were from death. And so that same Epi­taph more fitly might be applyed to these Diuine Louers, our amourous Palmes, which a certain Poet of ours had framed for a payre of profane Louers, dying both with one and the self-same sword:

His being was in her alone,
And he not being, she was none,
They ioy'd one ioy; one grief they grieu'd;
One loue they lou'd; one life they liu'd.
The hand was one, one was the Sword,
That did his death, her death afford.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

PHaenix (in Greek a Palme) doth aptly sute
With that rare bird the Phaenix, here the fruit;
Which,
The Pause.
when bright Phoebus scorching heames display­es,
A neast of Spices (to renew his dayes,
By a second birth) vpon this tree he makes:
Where burnt to ashes so himself forsakes,
Made yong, that he retaines what he had byn.
Thus th' only Sonne of God, t' abolish sinne,
Midst burning flames reuest with mortal plume,
Reuiues man's nature, which he doth assume;
The Virgin-Phaenix is the fruitful tree,
Where God in flames of Loue, new-borne would be.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. in the Palme, what a gratful shade it affords to wearie trauellers on the way, preseruing them from the scorching rayes of the Sun, and yealding them Dates to expel hunger, and not so only, but is a nota­ble delicacie besides. The Monks and Fathers of Aegypt, Thebarda, and Arabia, would make a goodlie liuing with a Palme-tree only by a chrystal riuer side, subministring them al things needful, for meat, drink, and cloath, to satisfy nature. O rare and admi­rable tree! But then consider the Palme of Paradise; I say, the admirable Virgin Palme, vnder whose shadow and protection, we are saued from the outra­geous heats of concupiscence, fed with the delicious examples of her life, and cloathed with the habits of her vertues, and especially refreshed with the sweet consideration of the limpid streames of her purest chastitie, no lesse then Nectar in the tast.

Consider then, how as the Palme is rough without, narrow beneath, and broad on the top, wheron the Phenix takes delight to build his neast: So was our blessed Ladie in exteriour shew but coorse in the eyes of her Nazarean neighbours, being held for no more, then a Carpenter's wife; while she was truly indeed the Palme of Cades. Beneath she was narrow, that is, in the loue of terrene things, wheron she touched as it were, but in a point only of the hu­man nature, not acquainted with the impurities and miseries therof: but broad on the top, that is, [Page 161] in Diuine contemplation, and loue of celestial things, where she alwayes dwelt in the highest; and where the glorious Phenix, the eternal Word, had taken vp his neast for so many moneths, to issue thence a human Phenix, her true and natural Sonne in­deed.

Ponder lastly, that as the Palme euer flourisheth and neuer withers, so our Incomparable Mother of GOD, had alwayes fresh and flourishing thoughts, being holie and chast; green and intentions, because most pure and neat; and green and flourishing affections, because very liuelie and actiue in the seruice of the Highest, whose lowlie handmayd, notwithstanding her maternitie, she would be; nor decayd or withered euer, because euer entire and neuer once subiect to corruption;Eccl. 24. not in bodie, because embalmed with the Deitie: As Cinamon and balme aromatizing I haue sent forth an odour; not in soule, because being vnited with the Soule, of her Sonne, they were made in a manner both as one, as by this is insinuated: A sword shal pierce through thy verie soule: that is, thy soule, which is his; or his, which is thyne: nor in Spirit, because through loue she was truly conuerted into GOD; and S. Hierom sayth: The grace of the Holie-Ghost had fully replenished her, and Diuine Loue had made her wholy white.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Statelie and victorious Palme of Paradice,The Collo­quie. most triumphant Queen of heauen, Cittie of refuge, Tem­ple of Safeguard, House of the Liuing GOD, faire Couch of the mystical Salomon, and his Throne of Iuorie! Oh Sanctuarie of GOD, the Arck of peace, Seat of Wisedome, the Rest and repose of the most high GOD, the glo­rious Cabinet of a thousand and a thousand guifts of the most blessed Holie-Ghost, the precious Reliquatie of al infused gra­ces! O sacred Pauilion, where GOD sets himself in the shadow of the rayes of his great glorie; most delicious Ladie, most pure and gracious, in the midst of those Celestial pleasures, and Diuine delectations of thine: Grant, I beseech thee, that I alwayes rest vnder the shade of thy branches, within the folds of thy protec­tion and sweet mercie, in this life; and when I shal finish the course of my pilgrimage, in this vale of miseries, it would please his Omnipotencie, to vnite my hart and spirit, with his more then holie Spirit, by the sacred linck of his most faire and transforming loue. This doe I beg as the feet of thee, most soueraigne Palme of the heauenlie Paradise.

THE XV. SYMBOL. THE HOVSE.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE House is an artificious Plasme,The Impresa fra­med by the hand of man, for his vse and habitation. It is a creature made in spite of Nature, to vye with her: That foras­much as Man only is borne naked, and without a house to put his head in, afforded him by Nature, Art taking compassion on him, abundantly supplyes the defect. There is nothing comes so sud­denly to so great a growth, as it; for wheras an Elephant being one of the greatest among beasts, and yet by manie degrees not so big as manie Houses are, [Page 164] he is twentie yeares ere he comes to his ful growth: a goodlie house wil be reared, and brought to perfec­tion in lesse then a yeare. Plants wil not grow with­out rayne, or waters cast vpon them, where this plantation hath no need of waters, but rather al in­dustries are vsed to keep them out. The Tortoyes in this respect, is better housed, not charged with repa­rations as long as his Lease lasts, for terme of his life: but yet hauing none els to trust, to looke vnto it, he is faine to carrie it about him. The Cockle hath his house, tiled with slate; which hauing no lock and key too, he is forced to keep at home for feare of theeues. And not so much as the poore snayle but hath a house of his owne, which in his pace, like a Pedler with his pack, wil he carrie about him throughout the world, and do that with time, which the Sunne can no more then do, with al his swiftnes, Nay you eate not an Oyster, but you vn-house him and put him out of his tenement. The Sun is the house of light, that needs no windowes, being nothing els but light. And for the 12. principal houses and Pallaces in the Heauens, they are but weakely built without foundation, more then the Astronomers working braines. The Moone is the house of the Flux and Re­flux of the Seas, who thence go in and out by turnes at their pleasures. The Almond is a house of the ker­nels within, which neuer comes forth til the roof comes fluttering downe about her eares, that costs her life. The Hiue, is a house and Colledge of Bees, where they liue Collegially togeather; the Combs are their Refectorie. The Birds, for proper houses, haue their neasts; whose children are the yong ones, and she the good huswif that keeps at home.

THE MORALS.

‘SEDES SAPIENTIAE.’

LOoke where the Prince is,The Motto. there is the Court; and where the Court, there his Seate. Wisedome is the Prince of the whole Microcosme of man: His Court then, and seate must needs be in the Power of the Vnder­standing, where he chiefly resides, and not where so­euer his dominion stretcheth; for so should he be in euerie place in person, which stands not with the Maiestie of so great a Prince. Wel may his Ministers, like Purseuants and Heralds, performe and execute the Royal commands: as the hands, to make proui­sions to maintaine the State; the feet, to trauel for that purpose; the eyes, to keep Centenel in the tur­rets of his pallace, and that neer to his person, against forren iuuasions, and the like: but yet the Prince himself in his Royal person departs not a whit from his proper Chamber of presence, the Intellect. And GOD himself, the Monarck of the whole Vniuers, is seen to be euerie where within his Dominions, through his essence, power, and presence, but not in that particular manner, as he is in heauen, in his proper seat; or as he was in earth, in his humanitie, or in the Sacrament itself most mysteriously and Diuinely. For to speake in general, his seat is euerie where: The Heauens, are the roof; the Starres, the Seelings; the earth al diaperd and diuersifyed with infinit coulours, his footstool and pauements; [Page 166] and the maruels of Nature, his shop of wonders, but his proper and peculiar seat, where he resides in, as in his Court, is either in the Empyreal Heauē (as I sayd) or in Christ's excellent Humanitie, or in the most Venerable and dreadful Sacrament of the Aultar; nor hath he made choice of anie other seats to dwel in, as not worthie or able to comprehend him. Where then had Wisedome properly set vp his seat, but in that pallace he had built for himself, founded in so great an humilitie, and so wel sustained with the seauen-fold pillars of the Holie-Ghost, I meane, in the Virgin-Womb of the Incomparable Ladie? who receauing, and so long entertaining the Wisedome In­created, in her virginal Lap, as the true Salomon in­deed, reposing sweetly in his Iuorie Throne, may wel be stiled: SEDES SAPIENTIAE.

THE ESSAY.

A House being a meer artificial,The Reuiew. and no natural thing, hath its first subsi­stence in the Idea of Man's brayne; according to whose model, good or il, the house so built, proues good or il. We recurre then to the Architect, for direction in al. This Archi­tecture is a soueraigne Mistris of building, which giues the addresses, for disposing al the parts of a house, with relations in themselues, in com­lines, proportion, ornaments, situation, dis­tances, eleuations, and a thousand of the like; of al which yealds it a pertinent and satisfacto­rie reason to the curious examiners, why euerie thing is so done, this and not that. Some are Ar­chitects by hand only, and no more, who frame [Page 167] their buildings by roat, taking forth copyes heer and there, but can afford no reason at al for what they do, nor inuent ought that is worth a rush; and for a final reason say nothing but, such is the custome so to do. Others are Architects by booke only, and by discourses which they haue read; but they haue no hands to put in practise, and know but the Theo­rie only; such as they, are good for nothing, but to build a house for Plato, of Ideas, al suspending in the ayre. The good Architect should linck his spi­rit with his hand, and the compas with his reason, setting his hand to work, as wel as the brayne. The first do frame but bodies without a soule; the second, soules without a bodie; the third do build the whole, and are men of note and reputation indeed. The perfect Architect indeed should be ignorant in no Science; otherwise, if he do wel, it is by chance, or els by nature, as beasts do, which do manie goodlie things, and know not why, nor wherefore. He had need be a Painter, to make his plaines, eleuations, designes, & to copie-out a thousand rarities to please the phantasie withal; a Geometrian, to handle the compas, for the vse of Circles, rulers, squares, plum­mets, and the like; To haue the Perspectiue, to let-in lights into his house, to steale-in the day in certain corners, to content the eye with diuers aspects; and if not directly to introduce the Sunnie rayes, at least obliquikly through reflexions; The Arithmetick, to cast vp and calculate the charges he is at, to number the materials and degrees that belong thereto; The Historie: for al the enrichments of buildings, Armes, statues, and other ornaments, are nothing els but Historie, true and fayned, which if he knowes not, he shal commit a thousand errours; To haue Phi­losophie, to know the nature of beasts, the seas, [Page 168] the elements, flowers, fruits, and al whatsoeuer in nature; Astrologie and Phisick, in planting his house in a holsome and sound climat, in choosing the best Sun, a good wind, the purest ayre, holesome waters, a faire and free prospect, a good situation for plea­sure and profit. This is certain, that al art is then in truest perfectiō, when it may be reduced to some na­tural Principle or other. For what are the most iudi­cious Artizans, but the Mimiks of Nature? This same in our House is seen, comparing it with the fabrick of our natural bodies, wherin the high Architect of the world hath displayd such skil as euen stupifyes the human reason to enter into it: Where the Hart, as the Fountain of life, is placed in the midle, for the more equal communication of the vital spirits; the Eyes seated aloft, to comprehend the greater circuit in their view; the armes, proiected on each side for the vse and commoditie of reaching; Briefly, the place of euerie part, is determined by the vse. Wherefore, the principal chambers of delight (as Studies and Li­braries) should be towards the East: for the Morning is a friend to the Muses; Al offices requiring heat, as Kitchins, Stil-houses, stoues, and roomes for ba­king, brewing, washing, or the like, would be Meri­dional; Al that needs a coole & fresh temper, as Cel­lars, Pantries, Butteries granaryes, to the North; and so likewise al Galleryes appointed for gentle motion, especially in warme climes, to the West.

THE DISCOVRSE.

THe chiefest grace, splendour, and glorie of a house, The Suruey. is, that the Maister therof, who dwelles therin, be markable & illustrious for singular & eminent vertues; since the chiefest ornament of a house is, the vertue of the Lord therof. Now then the blessed Virgin, being eternally ordayned to be a House and habitation of the Diuine Word Incarnate, and wherin the Holie of holies for nine months, and the endles Fountaine of al sanctitie was corporally to inhabite, this sacred House must bor­row needs so great a splēdour & dignitie, as no other, nor the Empyreal heauen itself, might anie wayes cō ­pare with it. What more? Howbeit the glorie of that ancient house and Temple of Salomon were great, yet can none deny this defect in it, for being incapable to hold the greatnes of GOD in its ample galleries & spaces, euen by the genuin confession of Salomon him­self:3. Reg. 8 If the Heauen and the Heauen of heauens can not contai­ne thee, how much lesse this house which I haue built? But the golden house of the blessed Virgin, more capacious then the heauens themselues,Ier. 31. Eccl. did close in and encōpas the greatnes of GOD on euerie side, as Ieremie sayth: A wo­man shal encompas a mā. And the holie Catholick Church itself sings: Whom the Heauens can not containe, hast thou held in thy Lap.

Besides that, which highly aduanceth & sets forth the glorie of a house, this same prerogatiue is of no smal moment, to haue been deciphered, delineated, plotted, and contriued, & euen raysed and built from the first foundatiō by a skilful & exquisit Architect. Behold GOD himself, the Supreme Architect, not only designed this House, but euen finished it himself, & brought the same to that eminent perfection,Prou. 86. it is of: I haue been eternally ordayned. Behold the plotting, cōtri­uing,Psal. 86. [Page 170] & designing of our House; The Highest himself hath founded her, where note the foundation.

I know, how Ouid in his Metamorphosis describes the house of the Sun very elegantly in this manner:

The Pallace of the Sun, on pillars highly placed,
With burnisht gold did shine, and Pyrops stone,
And seeling roofs with purest Iu'rie graced.

But who sees not, how this House heer, wherin the Sun of Iustice dwelt, did farre exceed the same, whose ornaments surpasseth those, by infinit degrees? for whose golden pillars, were the Guifts of the Holie-Ghost erected in her; for whose Pyropus or Carbuncle, which euen glowes like a burning cole, her most ardent Charitie abundantly supplyed; & for the white & purest iuourie, her inuiolable & imma­culate Virginitie. Whence, while the most blessed Virgin Marie more plētifully abounded with the guifts of the Holie-Ghost, she burned more ardently with Charitie; and in virginal puritie was more neat, then the heauenlie Spirits themselues; surely more strong and statelie Pillars sustained this house, more precious Carbuncles enriched it, & purer Iuourie adorned it, then those others did the Ouidian Pallace of the Sun.

I haue sanctifyed this House, which thou hast built, to put my name eternally therin, 3. Reg. 9. sayd GOD to Salomon, not being yet (as I suppose) affected so to that material house, as he pretended thereby rather to shew the loue he bare to his spiritual house, & yet corporal both, of his Incom­parable Mother, whom he hath so sanctifyed with his eternal predestination before, and enriched so with his personal presence, to put his name eternally in her. For that saying can not so wel be verified of the house built by Salomon, which was afterwards demo­lished & razed; but rather of Marie heer, who shal be [Page 171] sayd & preached for euer, the Temple of GOD, the holie House, where al glorie hath entred in, as to a chast Bower, & which hath neuer been ruined like that of Salomon; for that her foundations haue been planted in the holie mountaines, as Dauid sayth, that is to say, by the Diuine Persōs of the Holie Trinitie; while the power of the Father hath confirmed her in goodnes, the Sonne hath illustrated her with Wisedome, & the Holie-Ghost preserued and established her in his grace.

Material houses, which are built but of frayle matter & trāsitorie stuff,Iob. 4▪ diuersly fal to rubbage, & are soone demolished quite, as Iob sayth: Who dwel in clay houses, haue a terrene foundatiō. But the bodie of Marie, howbeit otherwise framed of a frayle matter, is neuertheles so consolidated & cōfirmed through the fire of the Holie Ghost, as she is subiect to no demolishment or dissolu­tion at al; & as she sayd in the Canticles, that leaning or resting on her wel-beloued, she was strong as the mountai­ne of Sion, Cant 2. hauing such confidence in him. So as truly the prophecy of Aggeus was fully accomplished in her:Agg. 2. That the glorie of the latter house should be greater then that of the former. For as in the building of the first, was heard no noyse or the least stroke of anie hammer: so heer in this House of Marie, could not be heard so much as the least sound or touch of Original Sinne, so built by the Diuine Wisedome, who was a more expert Archi­tect by far, then Salomon was, of whom is verifyed that which Dauid so long before had prophecyed & fore­told:Ps. 111. That glorie and riches should be in the house of the Diuine Wisedome, and its iustice shal be perpetual.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

HAu,
The Pause.
Who dwels heer? A Virgin. What are you?
A Paranymph sent far, am come to sue
For one that pilgrime-like would lodge this night
Vnder your roof, and be a mortal wight,
Comes as a Bride-groome. Heer's no harbouring seat.
But h'is a Monarch. Then for me too great.
H'is GOD. He now, & euer lodg'd with me.
Would be a child, your Sonne. How can this be?
By th' Holie-Ghost you shal be shadow'd ore;
You let him in by keeping closd your doore.
Then be it donne. One Fiat banisht night,
And now an other brings from heauen the Light.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, that as in euerie House wel built,The Contem­plation. and orderly disposed, there is a Dining-roome at least; and a han­some chamber for some principal guest to lodge in; so this gol [...]ē House, the Mother of GOD, which he had so eternally prepared for him­self, was not contriued without them both. And first for the Dining-roome, King Salomon made him a Throne of the wood of Libanus; which woodē Throne was the blessed Virgin, because the heauenlie Prince and bride-groome sate and lay sweetly reposed in her armes and wombe delightful vnto him, while he took flesh of her. She was a Bride-chamber, because a golden couch. For as gold is beautiful, incorruptible, and refulgent: So was her vertue golden, because beau­tiful for sinceritie of manners; incorruptible, through priuiledge of Virginitie; and refulgent, for her luster of Vertues. O how beautiful! behold the beautie of her manners, Chast generation: Sap. 4. see the priuiledge of Virgi­nitie; With clarity: note the luster of Vertues.

Consider then, that as a House hath also Galleries for recreation and delight, so had our Mystical House heer, delicious galleries to walke in, and, for varietie, three: to wit, the lower, the middle, and the vpper gallerie. The lower was sustained with siluer pillars; and therefore is it sayd, that wisedome erected siluer pil­lars. The middle was paued with precious stones, ac­cording to that: The middle was strewed with charitie. The highest was hangd with silks and purples; and there­fore is added a purple ascent. The lower gallerie of this virginal house, was the precious bodie of the Virgin; the middle, her purest soule; and the highest, her sublime and Angelical spirit. Her bodie was the lower gallerie, because her sensualitie was neuer [Page 174] prone to euil, but alwayes cōformable to reason. Her soule, the second; because strewed with precious sto­nes, that is, Diuine vertues. Her Spirit was the vpper gallerie, & adorned with purple hāgings, for being so enflamed with charitie, or wounded with the sorrow of her Sonne's passion, or sprinckled with his bloud.

Ponder lastly, as a house, especially the Pallace of Kings, requires to be spacious and ample; so was this House, our Ladie, being the House of GOD, most spacious & wide; according to that which the Church sings of her: Whom the heauens can not containe, hast thou held in thy lap. Secondly, wide and ample in cōpassion, while she receaues al, and refuseth none, into the bowels of her mercie; receauing the tempted, in prtoecting them from the snares of the Diuel; Sinners, in obtaining mercie and grace for them; the Iust, in conseruing thē in grace obtained; and lastly the Dying, in receauing their soules into her protection: and therefore sayd to be Mother of grace, and mother of mercie.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Sacred House, The Collo­quie. Temple of the Diuinitie, & Diuine Taber­nacle of the liuing GOD! A work surely much greater thē the workmāship of the world besides! O sacred Pallace framed by the Diuine hand, with admirable art, and most exquisit & choice matter; a peece of workmāship without peer, erected by the Diuine Wisedome, imputrible Arck incorruptible vessel, Celestial Tēple, Cittie of God.Psal. 86 Oh what glorious things are sayd of thee! Thou wast ordained eternally,Eccl. 24. before the earth was made. The Lord hath possessed thee frō the beginning of his wayes, Prou. 8. & thou wast before his works. Thou wast begot, when as yet there was no abysses seen; thou wast for­med before moūtaines were yet placed. Whē he pre­pared the heauēs, was thou presēt. By al the se faire prero­gatiues we beseech thee, Incōparable peece of his handie work so lōg designed & premeditated before hād, & so exactly framed at last to his owne Idea & designe, that in vs likewise his eternal designe of predestinatiō through our defaults may not vtterly perish.

THE XVI. SYMBOL. THE HEN.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Hen is that gentle Hart, that con­tents herself with the common Apella­tiue of her sex;The Impresae & as others ambitiously vsurp strange titles, as in Hawkes, for males or females (as the māner is) to be called Ladie, Mistris, & the like, she wil go no higher then the stile of plaine Goodwif, & be called the Hen, and wil take it amisse, to be termed otherwise. Yet is she the dear consort of the generous Chantecler, and his deerest beloued partner, and most indiuidual cōpanion. She is very familiar and domestical, and that [Page 176] so truly as she wil neuer goe from home so much as a flights shot. But is so kind-harted to al, especially to her owne children, as she hath not a dish, which she shares not among them. It is sport to see, how she knocks to her dresser, to haue thē come quickly, if she haue but a bit worth the eating, and then to see what strife there wil be amōgst the litle fry of them, for a single graine of corn, as the ambitious of the world for a Crowne & scepter, or as Caesar and Pompey for the Empire and Dictatourship of Rome itself; while the Hen falles a deluing and digging afresh for more. She wil be as fierce as a Tigre or Nemean Lionesse against the assassinats, who are so bold at to seaze on her familie, when she wil bristle her self and fly in the faces of the cruelest Bandites that are of the lād, or Pirats of the ayre, on behalf of her brood; and triumph as fast, if she come but handsomly off with her owne. And then must al the world take notice of her conquests, and she be recounting the same to her deer consort, who wil swel therat and bristle as fast; and euen menace the skyes in his greatestcholer. She is no great Arithmetician, and hath but a shallow memorie; for she neuer knowes, how manie yong she hath; & so she haue anie at al, she is pleased alike. She loues not her children so much, as the name of Mo­ther; which holds in one, as wel as a 100. She is not a Castle, or Bulwark, which keep their stands atten­ding the assailants; but as a Pinck at sea, wel man'd, wil meet and encounter the Aduersaries themselues, and defye them to their teeth, and with the sayles of her wings wil seeme to fetch the wind of them, to fly the fuller into their faces. But if she be let alone, and not prouoked, there is noe Doue more meek and gentle them she.

THE MORALS.

‘TVTELA FIDISSIMA.’

IT is hard to say,The Motto. which is better, to giue protection to others, or to find it for themselues; this am I sure of, the first is more specious and glo­rious, the latter more happie and se­cure. It is sayd indeed: Beatius est dare quàm accipere, because it is supposed, who hath to giue, hath otherwise no need to craue, wherin the beatitude consists; wheras who finds protection now, was of late in distresse, or feare of danger; so as though he hath the happines now, to dry vp his waterie eyes, yet not the priuiledge, to haue them neuer to dry. To giue protectiō, inuolues a power to be able to afford it; to take the same, implyes a necessite to recurre vnto it: the first hath a kind of obligation with it, if not of iustice, of charitie at least, to yeald his succours: in which estate he euer stands, & cōsequently in a state of seruitude, because obliged. But the secōd discouers his impotencie only, and present il condi­tion; but yet with a hope of enfranchizment, and a kind of title vnto it; yea manie times an absolute freedome and quite discharge of further cares. The truth is, howsoeuer the first, as it is more honourable, so is it more happie, & as approaching neerer to the soueraigne excellencie of GOD himself, is acquit frō anie imperfection of seruile obligation; but al what is, is meerly a goodnes in him, that seemes to put the obligation vpon him, which is no more indeed, then a kind of vertue in him, that makes him so prompt and readie to help the miserable in al necessities. [Page 178] This excellēcie and singular priuiledge the glorious Vrgin hath, of power, to protect; & of beneuolence, to haue the wil to protect; with the happines besides of an infallible efficacie in al whatsoeuer she vnder­takes. And therefore is she implored of al, and held to be the common Sanctuarie of the necessitous that fly vnto her, & especial Patronesse and sure Protectrice of her Deuotes, and by consequence rightly and de­seruedly called: TVTELA FIDISSIMA.

THE ESSAY.

THE Cock is very glorious,The Reuiew. when he hath al his attires and accoutrements about him; for then he wil strout it, as a soul­dier right; he buckles himself against his enemies, and with his wing making a target or buckler, defends, couers, and shroudes the chickens from the assaults of the Rauen; and falles a quarrelling with euerie one, either friend or so, that approches or but looks vpon them. And for the Hen herself, before she layes her egs, as others doe, she be­gins to prouide and take care for her lying downe. For she chooses her a quiet place to breed in, and builds a neast or couch to sit in, and makes it very soft, as knowing wel her egs would bruise and de­stroy one an other, if they be not commodiously and handsomly layd. Her yong are no sooner hatched, but she presently clucks them with her wings, least the cold or sharper ayre should hurt them; and is so tender of them, as that if a Kite or Wesel come in sight of her, receauing them vnder the shaddow of her wings, she opposes herself as a stout champion against them, with a great clamour and outcry, to [Page 179] strike a terrour into them, defending them herself with spurre, bill, and wings, with might and mayne, so as she wil rather euen dye in the place in defence of her brood, then by flying away leaue them in anie danger. To some she wil present her wings to cluck beneath, to others yeald her back to mount vpon, nor hath she anie part about her, which she is not willing to afford them what she may, to cherish and conserue them; nor that truly without ioy and ala­critie, as appeares by their kackle and tone they haue at such times. When she is alone, and hath no more to care for then herself, she trembles at the Hawke and buzard, and wil fly away from them; but if she haue yong, and espy anie danger neer, she comes forth like a Lion against them in their defence, and fights oftentimes far beyond her forces.

THE DISCOVRSE.

NOW is this Hen truly a gallant Symbol of the fruitful Mother of GOD,The Suruey. as wel for the plentie of egs she layes (for they wil lay, some two, and some three a day) as also for breeding so each mo­neth of the yeare, whereof though Aristotle and Plinie except the two winter-moneths, yet experience shewes and some Authours affirme, they wil lay also in those mo­neths, and some there are, that wil lay two a day euen in those moneths likewise; which surely is a great fe­cunditie, not lightly found in anie fowle besides. For lo, the blessed Virgin hath a double fecunditie with her, one natural, & the other mystical: the natural, in bringing forth CHRIST, whose natural Mother she was; [Page 180] and being his Mother, she was Mother in a sorte to as manie, as are called an are truly Christians: whilst of this one her seed became multiplied beyond the Starres in heauen, & aboue the sands, that lye on the Sea-shores. But what shal I say of her mystical fruit­fulnes, which euen filles and embraceth the whole world, that inuocates and calles vpon the name of MARIE, as their common Mother? Behold al the king­domes therof, and al the ample Prouinces, and you shal find them ful of her Deuotes and Children. Nor is Hungarie only her proper damilie, which title she hath taken, and yet holds from the donation of S. Stephen King of that Nation, who freely and deuoutly once consecrated the same to the Mother of GOD; but euen our England is knowne also by the name and title of our Ladies Dowrie: Yea Erance, Spayne, Italie, and Ger­manie, and the rest of the Kingdomes and Prouinces of the world, whose affection and deuotiō is no lesse to this common Parent, our Incomparable Ladie, the Mother of GOD. But nothing demonstrates her spiri­tual secunditie so much as the innumerable multi­tude of Families of the Sodalitie o [...] her Immaculate Con­ception, the true Parthenian Children of our sacred Parthenes. For in how short a time, throughout al Europe first, & then through America, the new world, the Indies as wel the East as West, haue Sodalities of al sorts & conditions whatsoeuer either Secular or Ecclesiastical been in­stituted, vnder the soueraigne and most blessed name of MARIE? which with al obseruance and due worship serue her as the Mother of GOD, and their common Pa­rent: while they doubt not by her meanes to be led and conduced to a better life, and to obtaine Eternal saluation, if they serue her truly indeed, and but ob­serue the Rules of her said Sodalities.

Besides the propertie, the Hen hath to defend her [Page 181] chickens, during life, this is singular in her, that euen after death, she is soueraigne and medicinal for infinit diseases, and her bodie the choycest diet for the sick and infirme. And therefore is the Cock consecrated to Esculapius the Inuentour of Physick.

And for our Ladie, what need I say more then that versicle of her Litanies: Salus Infirmorum? because she procures health both of bodie and soule. For is there a disease in anie part of the bodie of mā, euen running through the whole Catalogue of maladies, whereto present remedie hath not been begd and obtained of our mysterious Hen, the soueraigne Mother of GOD? O what a thing it were to reckon vp the Tēples & Cha­pels, & therin the Votes, tables, & waxen images set vp as testimonies of her infinit cures! Nor helps she the bodie more thē the soule. For Pride she heales no lesse, thē the head-ach; Vanitie no lesse, thē the vertigo or turning of the head; Wrath no seldomer thē the frēzie; Slouth, thē the Lethargie: Ignorāce as easily, as the Pin & web in the eye; Lust, as the disease belonging to it: Gluitonie, as the Consumption: & Auarice, as the dropsie.

There is yet another thing which I note in the Hen, Arist l. 9. c. 49. not so much out of Aristotle, as by experience, though Aristotle hath it likewise: that the Hen is a great scraper in the dust, which especially they do for three causes: as wel by busking therinto satisfy the itching they haue in thēselues, & to mēd their plumes & feathers, as also to shakeoff the venī about thē. Our Hen likewi­se most willingly busked & rould herself in herdust & ashes also. Dust is the beginning of humā generatiō, & the origin of our vile extractiō; & Ashes the verie E­pilogue therof: whence both are the Symbol of our birth & end; & thēce Humilitie. Al mē are earth & ashes. Why art thou proud, thou earth & ashes? Ec. 19. In these cogita­tions & the like,Ec [...]. 10. as in a heap of dust, the most Blessed [Page 182] Virgin continually volued herself, reuoluing nothing so much in mind, as her dust and proper extraction. Whence that: Behold the handmayd of our Lord. God hath regarded the lowlines of his hand mayd.

But how then, O mysterious Hen, louest thou dust so wel, hating al fowlnes and sordities so much? Feltst thou the itching of Vanitie a whit, that thou shouldst scrape in that sort? No, not the least itching of vaine ostentation infested thee, the immaculate Virgin. Or wouldst thou haue pranckt thy quils & plu­mage of supernal affects? It was not needful, since they were without anie lets to hinder them at al. Or was thy intention, to shake off at least any euil cogi­tations? Not so likewise; no such thing had euer accesse or ingresse into that purest mind. No temptation of arrogancie, ostentation, or pride could euer find admittance there. But truly, this it was; thou louedst Humilitie, which thou knewest to be gratful and acceptable to thy Sonne, which could no where more appeare, then in the dust of human nullitie, then in the ashes of mortalitie, and thy pro­per annihilation. An other reason may be also, why thou diggest so in the dust of thy Nothing: to find, as Hens are wont in the dust, some food more accepta­ble to them; for this is a maine cause likewise of their so frequent scraping in the dust; & who knowes perhaps, whether they may not light on a gemme or no? for so it hath been knowne. The most hum­ble Virgin Marie indeed euen nourished herself with humilitie, as a most sauourie food vnto her; this she supposed to lye in the dust of her proper abiection; and therefore with clawes of consideration, neuer left she digging and scraping it forth; nor was she anie whit deceaued; the earth of her abstraction, gaue her abundantly to feed most deliciously. And [Page 183] which is more, she found, in so doing, the precious gemme indeed, which was so enamoured with her humilitie, as he euen stoopt into the dust, to be there found by this mysterious and blessed Hen.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

NO mother,
The Pause.
like the Hen, preserues her yong,
Protects, & shelters with her wings; her tongne
Is clucking with a sad and doleful note;
Call's back her chickens, when they are remote;
And if they come not, chides sharp, shril, & lowd;
With beck & tallions fights for them. Thus shrow'd,
OVirgin Mother, while the Puttock flies,
[Page 184] (The Prince of darknes) who with watchful eyes
Seekes for my Soule, his prey. The Hen is knowne,
Careful of al. Yet if she hath but one,
Her care's as great. So's thine of one, or other.
Then to me Sinner, shew thy self a mother.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, the great magnani­mitie of the Hen, The Con­templation. in defence of her chic­kens, as aboue sayd. And then reflect vpon the courage and fortitude of our victorious Patronesse, the glorious Vir­gin, especially in the protection likewise of her Chil­dren; for to her enemies is she terrible as a battail wel ar­rayed. As an armie wel marshalled, is a terrour to the enemies, and makes them fly at the sight thereof, before they enter into fight: so are the Diuels dan­ted at the presence of this inuincible Champion, stan­ding in defence of her Clients and Children.

Consider then, the great compassion of the Hen towards her yong; which appeares in this, that with the sick and infirme, she wil be infirme; she is so sol­licitous in feeding them, as she finds not a graine, but she calles them to her, to participate therof: And for her care of preseruing them from danger, she clucks them vnder her wings, from the rapin of the kites, and the like rauenous fowle. And then weigh withal the tender compassion the Virgin-Mother hath euer shewen towards vs her Children and Seruants, in being so sollicitous to feed vs, while she was on earth, with the food of her doctrine: She hath opened her mouth in wisedome, and the law of clemencie in her toung; and for custodie,Pro. 31. how she hides vs vnder her wings, and protects vs from the snares of the Diuel. For this [Page 185] is she,Ap. 12. to whom was sayd, that two great wings were giuen her: The one, the wing of Mercie, to which Sinners do fly to be reconciled to GOD; according to the Prophet: Protect me vnder the shadow of thy wings; The other, that of Grace, vnder which the Iust remaine, to be conserued in grace, and may say with him li­kewise: She hath shadowed vs with her shoulders.

Ponder lastly, how the Hen not only sits vpon her owne egs, but sometimes strangers likewise, as the egs of Ducks and pea-hens, put into her nest, which being hatched, the Ducks according to kind wil be­take themselues to the waters, and there diue and plunge themselues ouer head and eares; and the yong pea-hens enamoured with their owne beautie wil forsake their tender nurse that bred them vp. And then weigh withal, how manie strange and vn­gratful children our mysterious Hen, the admirable Virgin, cherishes and nurse; with her daylie prote­ction, who requite her il for al her care in trayning them vp.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Queen of Angels, saluted hy the Archangel,The Collo­quie. adored by the Powers of Heauen, Mistrisse of Vertues, Dutchesse of Principalities, Ladie of Dominations, Prin­cesse of Thrones, more highly aduanced then the Che­rubins themselues, more enflamed with ardour os Diuine loue, then al the Seraphins; The first next to God, the second in the Role or Register of the Predestinate: Thou most terrible to thy foes, as an Host wel arrayed; and yet infirme with the infirme, as a Hen amid her chickens, most tender of them, & a most sure bulwark for them, against al incursions and assaults of forren and domestick enemies, either visible or inuisible. O thou, who through thy Sonne, and thy matchles humilitie, hast crushed the Serpent's head: through thy holie prayer and intercession, I beseech thee, let Sathan be trampled likewise, vnder thy Ser­uants feet. O grant this same, mysterious and Indulgent Bird of Paradice.

THE XVII. SYMBOL. THE PEARL.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Pearl, or Margaret, the Lillieamōg Iewels, is the peerlesse Gemme of Nature,The Impresa so much happier then the rest, as nobler descended then they: this being bred in the womb of the sea, and they in the bowels of the earth. If they be stilli­cides from Heauen (as some think) they are the mil­kie drops distilled from Iuno's breast, which Sol par­cheth into seeds; which seeds empearle in those litle Ouens lying on the beach. The Diamant that sparcles so, though rich indeed, arriues not to that [Page 188] wealth without trade, and exercise of the Ieweller, in passing the file and chizel, wheras the Pearl needs none of those to raise its fortunes by, but is truly borne a Ptince. They are the ordinarie companions of the greatest Ladies, and so chast as they wil be dandling in their necks, without sensualitie in themselues, or those they dallie with, without iea­ [...]ousie of anie. They are true Subsidie-men, and such Sureties indeed, as their credit wil be taken for as much as they are worth. If you would epitomize an ample estate, & put the same into a litle Compendium, with Bias to carrie your wealth about you, sel what you haue, and put it into Pearl. If you haue anie suit in Court, it wil purchase greater friends, and pro­cure you better preferments, then the best deserts. Like a pin and web, it wil put out the eyes of Linceus himself, not to see what he should. It is the key, that wil set open the Iayle to the worst conditions; and the bolt to shut vpon the best deseruings. What ciuil warres could neuer effect, the Pearl or Vnion hath in­fallibly brought to passe, to wit, the ruine of that great Triumvirat, being disunited or dissolued: what would it then haue done, if vnited? It is called Oriental, as much to say, as it makes al men to arise vnto it, to do it homage: and wil make you more place in a throng of people, of meer respect, then a rufling Whifler shal do with torch in hand. In fine, it is a rich Treasurie of rarities enclosed in a box of Pearl.

THE MORALS.

‘PRECIOSA ET CAELESTIS.’

RAre things are likely precious,The Motto. and precious rare: not that scarcitie alone should set the price, or price and valew make them rare; but that the ordināce of GOD is such, to haue them so, that things which are excellent in themselues, should be rare and scarce to be found, that pearls (for worth) might not be cast to swine, or trampled vnder foot. Monsters are rare indeed, and yet most hateful, and prodigious. It is the worth then that giues the price to things. The Sybils Books were valued lesse being nine, then when they were but three; not for the plentie of the nine, or scarcitie of the three; but to let Tarquinius see, the true estimate and value of each one; and had he not perhaps taken her at last at her word, as he did, he had payd as much for one alone, as for the nine, or gone without it. Yea gold itself, were it as common happely as manie other things are of litle worth, would yet be in as great esteeme as now it is, through a certain excellence it hath in itself aboue others. And therefore S. Iohn did very wel, to dresse vp GOD al in gold, and paue the Para­dice of ioyes with the same: for otherwise, do I feare, that manie an one, would neuer haue had anie great thirst after it; who perhaps would better haue liked the horns of Lucifer, tipt with gold, then those of the Moon with siluer, or the burning cristal of the Sun. Who would thinke, that a peece of earth, taken, as it were, with the [Page 190] disease of the yelow Iaundise, being no more indeed then a yelow earth, a glittering Stone, a kind of froth boyling from Hel, should haue such a power vpon reasonable men? So as wel it may seeme, to be the Golden Age, since al is set vpon gold; they wish but gold, they speake or thinke of nothing els but gold, when lo, the Gold of gold, the precious Margarit of Pearls, is truly valuable indeed, the Incomparable Virgin-Mother, I meane, who is either the Pearl itself, or Mother of the true Oriental Pearl, which descended from heauen, and therefore is worthily called: PRE­CIOSA ET CAELESTIS.

THE ESSAY.

THE true Pearl hath a luster of siluer with it, which wil not soyle a whit, nor wax yel­low;The Reuiew. its skin feares no nipping of the frosts, nor the tooth of Time. It is bred in the Sea, and seemes to disdayne the fare of its Ho­stesse, the Scallop, wherin it is a prisoner, while it ta­kes its food from the heauens, and hath its whole alliance with them. They vse to counterfeit the same in a thousand manners with glasse, and aboue al, with the Mother-Pearl, in beating it to powder, and making a past therof, and then causing pigeons to let it downe, which with their natural heat do boile and polish it in the manner it is, and then put it forth againe. The Mother-pearl engenders from the heauens, and liues but of celestial Nectar, to bring forth her Pearl withal, either siluer, pale, or yelowish, according as the Sun makes it, or the ayre, whence it feeds, be more or lesse pure. Receauing then the deaw of Heauen into the gaping shel, it formes litle graines or seeds within it, which cleaue to its sides, then grow hard, and geale, as it were: and so Nature [Page 191] by litle and litle polishes them through fauour of the Sunnie beames, and at last they become the Oriental Pearls; and as the Deaw is greater or lesse, the Pearls become the bigger and fayrer. The Pearl in powder, is good in a manner for al maladies. It growes not only in the flesh of the fish, but in the mother itself, or shel without the fish. It is tender within the mother, but growes hard as soone as ta­ken out of the water. The greatest gallantrie of La­dies, is to haue them dangling at their eares by half dozens, whence are they called Cymbals; they wil say likewise: a faire Pearl in the eare, is as good as an Vsher to make them way in a presse. Cleopatra wore two of them, which were worth a million and a half; wherof one she swallowed downe, being first dissolued by vinagre.

THE DISCOVRSE.

IF you look now into the mysteries of al natural Secrets,The Reuiew. you shal find none to symbolize better with the Virgin Marie, this Margarit of ours, then this same Pearl or precious Mar­garit of the Sea: if especially we re­gard but the names only, wherewith they are stiled, the one of Marie, the other of Margarit, and both ha­uing so great alliances with the Seas: the one being, amarum mare, a bitter sea: and the other, as wholy borne and bred in the seas; the one importunatly begd and obtayned of GOD, by Anna her Mother: and the other, as greedily gaped-after from the Hea­uens, and especially from the Sun, by the Mother of Pearl, so properly called by like, for her motherlie & maternal appetite to engender and bring forth; and [Page 192] we al know, what Pearls of sanctitie are lightly brought into the world, with so great importuni­ties. But if we looke into the other congruities between them, we shal find them to sympathize so, as we may wel tearme our Virgin-Mother, a Pearl or Margarit of the Heauens, as the other of the Seas.

The Margarit, as I sayd, is bred in the Sea; which Isidor affirmes, and that in this manner. At certain times of the yeare, to wit, in the Spring and Autum­ne, the cockles, oysters, or scollops, or cal them what you wil, approach to the Sea-shore, and lye there ga­ping, and opening themselues, and receaue the celestial deaw into their bowels; from the coagula­tion wherof, as abouesayd, are the Margarits en­gendred. Now this Shelfish, oyster, or Mother-Pearl (for the Mother, or issue Pearl, are al of a substance, as mothers and embrions vse to be) is the Virgin-Mo­ther-Pearl it self, which opened her Virginal soule, at her mysterious Annunciation, in the Spring of the yeare, by the quiet shore of her tacit and silent contemplation, to receiue the heauenlie Deaw, the new Margarit: that is, to conceaue that precious Pearl, Christ Iesus, in her womb. For she opened her consent, to the great Angel, her singular Paranimph, to obey GOD in al things, saying: Behold the hand­mayd of our Lord, &c. and her soule likewise to the Holie-Ghost, to ouershadow her: and after the opening thus of her free consent, and her Angelical soule, the Celestial deaw of the Holie-Ghost descended into her, and so this infant-Pearl was diuinely begot in the virginal womb of the Virgin-mother - Pearl. Of which deawing of the Holie-Ghost, and opening of the Blessed Virgin therevnto, it is prophetically sayd: [Page 193] Deaw you heauens thervpon, Isay. 45 and let the clouds rayne downe the Iust; let the earth open and bring forth the Sauiour.

These Pearls besides, if they be right Margarits indeed, are faire, white, and cleer; for such as are so, are truly of the best, and a great deale better then those which are dimmer, and of a yellow and duskish coulour. For those which are faire, white, and cleer, are bred of the morning-deaw; and the others, of thar which falles in the euenings. And our Incomparable Margarit, was predestinate so from the morning of the eternal Decree in Heauen, so created, as it were, ab initio & ante secula, while the other pearls of lesse regard were only produced in the euening, after that sinne was brought into the world.

This Margarit therefore so faire, so white, and cleer, signifyes our heauenlie Margarit and glorious Virgin, who was beautiful and faire in mind through a more then Angelical puritie of hers consisting in the mind; most snowie and white in bodie, through an immaculate chastitie and virginitie; and cleer and sincere in works, through a simple sanctitie, and Saintlie simplicitie in al her actions, in the whole course of her blessed and incomparable life, which she led on earth.

I sayd aboue, that Pearls being stampt and beat to powder are holesom, soueraigne, and medicinal for manie maladies; wherof I find the Naturalists chiefly to reckon three: First, they are purgatiue, because they purge and euacuate the bodie of al noxious and superfluuous humours; secondly, restric­tiue, staying the flux of bloud or venter; and thirdly, they comfort and corroborate the hart, being readie to faynt or swoune through debilitie of the spirits, [Page 194] or the vital parts. To these infirmities, the applica­tions of these pownded Pearls so beat to powder, are of singular auayle. In this manner the Blessed Virgin, being seriously pressed with importunitie of pray­ers, and often vrged and called vpon with incessant vowes, relenting and mollifyed at last, as fallen into powder, applyes herself, first through a pur­gatiue power to purge vs of our sinnes, by procu­ring vs the grace of Contrition, and the holesome Sacrament of Pennance, to bewayle and purge our sinnes past; secondly, with her restrictiue vertue, to restraine the soule from flowing and falling agai­ne into future sinnes; and thirdly, with her re­storatiue, comfortatiue, and corroboratiue power, to strengthen and fortify the hart, in present occa­sions of sinnes.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

A Rare and precious Pearl is hardly found,
That's Great, & Heauie, Smooth, pure-white and Round.
The Pause.
The Sonne of God came from his heauenlie Throne,
Factour for Pearles, aet last found such an one.
Great, to containe himself; & Heauie, ful of grace.
And therefore sunck vnto a Handmayds place.
Smooth without knob of Sinne. Virgin pure-white.
Round in perfection, more then mortal wight.
This pleas'd his eye; a long time hauing sought,
Gaue al that ere he had, & this he bought.
Vnion's a Pearle (no twinnes) it-self, but one;
Such was the Virgin-Mother Paragon.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, how this Pearl or Margarit is vsually called,The Contemplation. as we sayd, by the name of Vnion; whether it be for the great vnion and sympathie there is, between the Mother and the Pearl, I know not; for you can not mention the Mothers name, but needs must you bring-in the Pearl withal: or for the vnion of the Celestial deaw, with the Conchal nature, to make vp a Pearl, in the lap of the fish, I wil not say: this I am sure of, that our blessed Pearl heer is called Deipara, as much to say, as the Mother of GOD; nor can she be so called a Mother, as she is, but GOD must needs be vni­ted to her, to make vp her name.

Consider then, that as the Mother-pearl, being other­wise [Page 196] only a meer shel-fish of its owne nature, and of no greater a ranck then a playne oyster of the Sea: yet through the appetite she had to suck, and draw in the heauenlie deaw into her bowels, obtained the especial priuiledge and prerogatiue, to become indeed the Mother of the true oriental Pearl. So the virgin-mother, though she were, as she sayd herself, the sillie handmayd of our Lord, and of our human nature, subiect to the natural fray leties therof; yet through a singular immunitie with the puritie of her intention, integritie of bodie, and Angelical can­dour of mind, disposing herself most affectuously and ardently indeed, to receaue the Celestial deawes frō heauen, that is, the grace of perfect Vnion with GOD, in her pure soule, she deserued to become the Mother of the Pearl of Pearles, sweet IESVS.

Ponder lastly, that if a meer Pearl, being so basely bred in an oyster-shel, whose extract at the best is but meer Deawes let fal from the nether Region of the Ayre, and those but drops of fresh water, as it were impearled in the fish, through benefit of the Sun should come to be so highly prized as we haue sayd, being no more then a meer seed of Pearl somwhat fairer then the rest of that kind; how are we to prize and magnify, trow you, our heauenlie Pearl heer, whether you meane the Pearl, or Mother herself? the Pearl himself, for being such a Pearl so truly descen­ding from heauen; and her, for being the Mother of such a Pearl.

THE APOSTROPHE

MOST sweet, most debonnaire Virgin-Mother, The Coll [...] ­quie. the Immaculate through em­phasis, the Mother of faeyre dilection, Mother of Iesus, regard me poore wretched soule, and obtaine, that my hart and affection be pure and clean, at least like the seed pearl, according to the proportion of my litlenes, and my bodie wholy free, from the duskish blemishes of the least sinnes, and that by day and night my thoughts being repurged from al immundici­ties and vncleane obiects, the flourishing bed of my Fancie, may neuer be soyled more, to offend thine eyes, and those of the Immaculat Pearl of thy womb, the Spouse of my soule, CHRIST IESVS.

THE XVIII. SYMBOL. THE DOVE.

THE DEVISE.

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THE CHARACTER.

THE Doue is the true and perfect type of Loue;The Impresa let them but change caps with each other, and the Doue shal be Loue, and Loue a Doue. If Venus betake her to her Chariot, she is drawne with the teame of foure of them, as Poets say. This are we sure of, the Holie-Ghost, the essential Diuine loue, hath been seen to appeare, as carried with Charitie, in the forme and figure of a Doue. The Doues are neuer in their proper element more, nor better pleased, then [Page 199] in digging them holes in the rock, and planting their litle pauillions there. And the Eyes (the Agents of Loue) like a payre of twin-like Doues haue set vp their rests, and built their nests, as it were, in the hollow concaues of the browes, in seruice of Loue. The Doue is the trustie messenger, or winged Post of the Ayre, that carries letters to and fro, in matters of the greatest importance; which she fayles not to deliuer with the hazard of her life, nor euer misseth, but it costs her the best bloud of her bodie. She is euen an arrow, and verily as swift as it, but without a steelie head to hurt withal, as hauing no gaule within her, or curstnes in the bil. She is a very so­ciable creature, and apt for Citties; witnes their Douecots, where they liue in great peace and neigh­bourhood togeather; and not of feare, as some, do they flock togeather in great troupes, but meerly of loue and charitie one to an other. She is very abste­mious and religious in her dyet, and wil not feed on those flesh-pots of Egipt, that first came-in with that Patriark and second Parent of our kind; contenting herself with bread alone, allowed euen from Adam's time, who tilled and ploughed the first of anie. She is hot by nature, & yet of condition a Moyses for meek­nes, and euen the verie Lamb of birds; if not so able to cloath our nakednes with her wool as he, yet su­rely she would, if she could; yet euer readie and prompt to lodge vs in her downes. And when she can not stead vs otherwise, she wil afford her bodie, to be sacrificed by vs, as an entire holocaust of her good nature.

THE MORALS.

‘IN FORAMINIBVS PETRAE.’

WHO wil giue me the wings of a Doue (the Prophet sayth) and I wil fly and rest? The Doue would fly,The Motto. and then rest: fly in the exercise of al vertues, and then rest in the contemplation of the Diuine attributes; or fly in the medi­tation of our Sauiour's life, & then rest in the deep con­templation of his bitter passion; fly in reading the Diuine Scriptures, that point vs the Rock; and rest in digging in the holes of the said Rock, the blessed stigmats of his venerable and sacred wounds. For Reading indeed, though it much auayle to lead vs to the Rock, yet diues not so deep into the Rock, as serious Meditation doth; & Meditation though it dig into the Rock, yet dwels not so quietly there, nor rests so sweetly in the Rock, as a deep Contem­plation doth; while Reading regards but the shel only, that is, brings to the Rock; Meditation, the kernel, that is, digs into the Rock; but Contempla­tion swallowes & relisheth the kernel, that is, dwels and sets vp its rest in the Rock. Reading looks but superficially therinto; Meditation bores and enters into it; but Contemplation diues and sounds into the depth. Reading exhibits the breasts of the Mo­ther-Church, in opening the books of the Old and New Testament; but Meditation, and more Con­templation, wrings them, to fetch out the milk to nourish withal. Reading crops off the eares of corne; and Meditation and Contemplation, as with the fin­gar and thumb, wrings out the grayne; then grinds [Page 201] it to meal, til it comes to be bread and food of men. And this the tender and compassionate Mother did, who flying, like to the Doue, al the time of her life, neuer rested herself, til finding her Sonne, become a Rock of scandal and reproch, aud piteously bored on euerie side, she enters into them, and dwelles within them; and if you ask her, where she is, might very wel answer: IN FORAMINIBVS PETRAE.

THE ESSAY.

THE Doue, the Mercurie of birds, the fayth­ful Messenger of Noe, The Reuiew. the friend to the Oliue, hath properly no coulour of her owne to know or distinguish her by; so is she vniuersal for al; in this only she is singular aboue the rest, that being of what coulour soeuer, her neck being opposed to the Sun wil di­uersify into a thousand coulours, more various then the Iris it-self, or that Bird of Iuno in al her pride; as scarlet, cerulean, flame-coulour, and yealding a flash like the Carbuncle, with vermilion, ash-coulour, and manie others besides, which haue no name, but as you borrow them from other things. And though she be neuer so chast, innocent, and loyal to her mate, yet can she not auoyd his iealou­sie. Which you may see, and it is a pleasant con­templation to note the while, when the Cock returns to his Douecot, how, discouering his iea­lousies, his litle breast wil swel vp to the bignes of his bodie; then with the voice to break forth into a hoarse and angrie note; by and by to walke in state, as it were, and encompas his mate about; and with the shew of a wrothful Nemesis, rake the ground, with the swift trayling and strotting of his trayne, [Page 202] and that you may not doubt but he is angrie indeed with the pecking of his bil, & strokes of his wings he persecutes the poore wretch, deseruing it not. Yet she abides very patient to al, nor is troubled a whit at his causeles indignation, proceeding out of vehe­mence of loue; she flyes not away to shun him, and withdraw herself, but rather approaches neerer and closer to him; she returns not blow for blow againe, but meekly endures and suffers al; vntil the diuturnitie of sufferance and her meeknesse do van­quish and mollify the choler and fiercenes of the fu­rious thing. And so at last the Cock forgetting his suspicion, is quite tamed; & laying the enemie aside, puts on the Louer, returns to reconciliation of friendship againe; and the ioyning of their bils to­geather, with more ardent affection, renewes the same, as the flame is encreased with the sprinckling of frigid drops theron. She is a meek creature, and hath no gaule; she feeds on no liuing thing; she brings vp others yong, she makes choice of the purest gray­ne, she builds in the rocks, she hath groanes for sin­ging notes, & sits very willingly by the waters side, that she may suddenly shun the haw ke foreseen by his shadow therin; and a thousand other qualities besi­des.

THE DISCOVRSE.

NOW then, as the Doue builds her nest not in trees nor on the earth,The Suruey. but in the holes and concauities of the Rock, not so curious as some birds be, to plaister and trim vp their nests, or to seeke for the softest downes to prepare their beds with, against the hat­ching of their yong: So our Ladie, the mystical Doue we treat of, built not a whit, nor placed her hart, in the baser earth of terrene desires, nor in the higher thrones of princelie Maiesties, but euē in the wounds and passions of her dearest Sonne. Arise, my friend, make hast, Can [...]. 20. my Doue; I say, make hast, and come into the holes of the rock, where our Doue is sayd to inhabit. In the holes of the rock, I say, because in her thoughts and re­membrance was she stil conuersant and lodged, as it were, in the wounds of Christ. Or we may say, and not vnaptly to, that Christ had sundrie nests, to wit, the Crib, the Crosse, and his Sepulcher or monument. In these nests now of Christ, our Doue would oftē inhabit, because she would often visit these places with incre­dible ardour & deuotions. Of which opiniō is doubt­les S. Hierom, S. Hier. thoughhe say, perhaps: Perhaps, sayth he, through excesse of loue she is sayd to haue dwelt in the place, where her Sonne was buryed. For one hardly would beleeue, how much internal loue and affection is fed with looks.

The Doue againe feeds not on the flesh of other fow­les & birds, as some do, but of the graynes of corne, and that the select & most choice of al. Nor was our Doue, the blessed Virgin, affected or giuen to terrene [Page 204] and worldlie things, but to Celestial and eternal; she fed not on the flesh-pots of Egipt, nor yet of Manna, being but only the bread of Angels, but ra­ther fed of the Bread of life, the thing represented by that Manna, she fed on the sweet thoughts of the Di­uine Word it self Incarnate in her womb,Ioan. 10. and fed of that grayne of corne, wherof it is sayd: Vnles the grayne of corne falling into the earth be mortifyed and dy &c. This grayne of corne refreshes and satiats; and therin may signify our Sauiour Christ, according to the Psalmist: He satiats thee with the fat of corne; Isay. 63. and hath rednes without, in regard wherof may it signify the flesh of Christ; agreable to that: How red is thy garment &c: and besides is white within, and expresseth the soule,Sap. 7. which is fulgent and bright with the candour and splendour of puritie; For indeed it is the candour of light, And therefore in the Canticles the Virgin sayth: My heloued is white and red, and chosen of a thousand; Whi­te, for his blessed and diuinifyed soule;Cant. 3. red, for his precious flesh, embrued with is bloud; and the choi­ce of a thousand, for his soueraigne and supreme Di­uinitie. This Doue then fed of such a grayne, because she was wholy and fully delighted with the Diuini­tie and the Humanitie of Christ.

And for her groanes, the ordinarie musick of the Lyre of her hart, they were the lamentable and sad accents, which the Passion of her deer Sonne had caused in her. For lo, this Doue with the rest of that desolate and mourning flight of Maries, her fellow-doues, did nothing els, but sigh and groane, in beholding the onlie Pearl of doues, her deerest Sonne, in so piteous a plight, so hampered and entangled in the fowler's nets. Like Doues that meditate, they groned sore, as the Prophet sayth, [Page 205] especially this Doue aboue the rest, the incomparable Virgin-Doue, being the natural Dam and parent of the poore distressed one, most sadly powring forth a floud of teares without measure. Whence S. Anselm sayth in a certain place:S. An­selm. My most merciful Ladie, what fountains may I say brake forth of thy purest eyes, when thou sawest thy onlie innocent Sonne to be scourged, bound, & so cruelly entreated before thee, and the flesh of thy flesh so mangled in thy sight? what groanes shal I imagin thy breast sent forth the while, when thou heardst him say: Woman, behold thy Sonne; and agayne: Behold thy mother? For she could not see her Sonne to be so crucifyed, without groanes, and motherlie laments for her dying Sonne, the ioy of her hart, and hart of al her ioyes, so pierced with a souldiers speare, that euen transfixed withal the mo­thers breast, a verie Niobe of teares, or rather Noome of bitter groanes.

Now for the wing, which so eternizeth the Doues, and makes them most illustrious among fowles of the highest pitch, this I note, they loue not much to fly alone, bur to assemble themselues in flights. The blessed Virgin, is that Woman cloathed with the sunne, of whome it is sayd in the Apocalyps, that two wings were giuen her to fly with, in the desert; which two wings are the wings of Loue and Hope, wherewith she flyes into Heauen. Who wil afford me wings as the Doue? But yet she would not fly alone, but draw others also to fly along with her, to wit, the Apostles, during her life, and through her example afterwards al other Saints.

They were accustomed of old, the better to attract strange pigeons to their houses, to vse this industrie or slight, to annoynt some one tame and domestical Doue with an oyntment, which they knew most [Page 206] grateful vnto them, and so annoynted to let it fly at large; when she so flying in the ayre, through the fragrance of the odours about her, would draw to her a number of them; & so she, who first flew alone, would returne back againe in triumphing manner. The Virgin of herself alone at first was the onlie louer of vowed Chastitie, who professed, she knew not, nor euer would know man. This Doue then the hea­uenlie Fowler had sent forth into the ayre of the world, as annoynted with the perfume of al graces, and especially of Chastitie; but now she flyes with an innumerable number of Virgins, led by her example, singing altogeather with one consent that verse: We wil runne after the odour of thine oyntments; the yong virgins haue loued thee, O louelie Doue.

Lastly, for the sitting of the Doue by the waters side, heare what the Holie-Ghost in the Canticles sayth: Thine eyes like Doues vpon riuer-waters, Can. 5. which are washed with milk, and sit by the fullest streames. S. Hierom, that great Contemplatour of Celestial Secrets vpon the Canticles, speaking of this most holie Virgin, how she was assumpted to Heauen, sayth: ‘I saw one specious as a Doue ascending from the waters. She was a beau­tiful Doue, as it were; because she shewed the forme and simplicitie of that Doue, which came vpon Christ, coming out of the streames of waters.’ Now as the Doue is sayd to dwel vpon the streames, as wel to dis­couer the shadow of the hawke, as to refresh herself against the heats: So the blessed Virgin rests & abides vpon the fulnes of the flouds of the Holie-Ghost, as wel to admonish her Deuotes to beware the Diabolical snares, as to enioy the plenitude of the waters of the same Holie-Ghost, to wit, the guifts therof.

THE EMBLEME.

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THE POESIE.

THE Holie-Ghost,
The Pause.
that nestles like a Doue,
Betwixt the Father & the Sonne aboue,
Is flowne from Heauen to seek a mate below,
A Virgin, chast, pure Doue, as white as snow
Fethred; a like consort; she without gal,
Simple & mild; he Loue essential.
Thus they accord, as they in colour sute,
And to the flower correspond's the fruit.
The Virgin's shadowd, yet remaines pure white;
(Shadowes expeld) the substance brings to light.
But while her Sonne is shadowd on the Crosse,
The mourning
Col­umbam nigram pingebāt Aegyp­ty ad si­gnifican­dā [...]iduā c [...]stam & con­stantem; inquit Pierius.
Doue in blackes laments her losse.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. how the Doue, being a most pure creature, feares to be de­filed, & abhorres whatsoeuer is foule and sordid, as appeares by that which hapned in Noe's Floud. Noë sent forth a Doue after fourtie dayes, to discerne whether the waters were fallen and ceased vpon the face of the earth or no, who not finding wheron to rest her foot, returned into the Ark againe; and the reason was,Gen 88. as S. Augustm thinks, that though the tops of hils appeared bare, yet they remained moist and slymie, and therefore the Doue being a nice and deli­cate bird, and extremly amourous of puritie and cleannes, would by no meanes put her foot theron. And heer reflect vpon the Virgin pure, in whome no spot appeared of Original Sinne at al, in that great inundation & deluge therof in Adam, but remayning in the Ark of her Innocencie Immaculate, because the mother of the Immaculate Lamb.

Consider then the singular prouidence of the Doue, which is a part indeed of the prudence of this crea­ture, in that to shun the hawke, she shrouds herself in the secret holes of the Rock, and there securely re­poseth in great peace. And then consider, how this Doue of Doues, this same most prudent Virgin, being higher then the rest, and more profound, had placed her nest or chamber in Christ her Rock; where being alwayes safe and kept inuiolable, the slights of the Diuels and the subtleties of Hereticks could doe nothing against her; but what they did, was against the Rock itself, rebounding back vpon the impious themselues, like the waues against the cliffes, the ships against the shelfs, the rusling of the winds [Page 209] against the towers, the fomie froth against the beach, the edge of the sword against the Adamant, the reed against a target, drifts of snow against a helmet, fire against gold, & lastly a slender cloud against the Sun.

Ponder lastly the great similitude and resemblāce, which is between the saluation of mens liues in Noës Ark, and that of Soules in the Church, whose foun­datiō was layd in the Virgin-mothers womb, our true Doue indeed, at the Annunciation of the Angel Gabriel, when that stupēdious miracle of grace was wrought within her. But as then that Doue of the Ark carryed only the message of saluation, the figure of that em­bassage heer brought by Gabriel, whom when you behold so painted with a brāch of Oliue in his hand, as a token of peace and mercie, what see you els, but Not's Doue, bearing a bough of oliue, in the feet?

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Most innocent Doue, The Gollo­quie. Lady of meeknes! O would you please to remember me for my good, most sober & [...]emure Virgin, & amourous Mother of my deerest Spouse, Oh pray the eternal Loue for me; reiect me not poore wretch, most wretched Sinner, so wholy immortifyed in al my senses, who heer present myself before your goodnes in the demād and pursuit of man suetude of mind. Oh grant, most precious Virgin-Mother, that I perish not for euer, and be lost. O admirable Ladie, Ladie, I say, of heauen and earth next GOD your deerest Sonne, placed aboue al the Hierarchies of Heauen: Let me not quite perish, Queen of the heauenlie Empir [...]; for alas, what profit wil there be in my vtter ruine? Alas, Alas, let me not fal, a caytif and vnworthie worme as I am, to nothing, or worse then nothing, so wholy drowned in Sinne and vice.

THE XIX. SYMBOL. THE FOVNTAIN.

THE DEVISE.

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THE CHARACTER.

THE Fountain is the liquid Glasse or Mir­rour of the Naiades, The Impresa where they haunt to contemplate their beauties in; or rather is the Nimph herself, who gazing on her proper beautie, through a strange Meta­morphosis of self-loue had lost herself in her owne Glasse. Hence it is, she runnes the Hay, as it were, in the meadowes, to seeke herself in the waters which she is herself, got forth to take the ayre, in the fields abroad; and as it runnes, it playes on the Harpsicon the while, whose iacks are the pible stones, checking [Page 211] the litle waues as strings, that so with purling frames the harmonie it makes. The feathered Nimphs there, are much taken with it, especially the Swan, that wil be tuning her Descant to that ground. Al the care she takes, is but to haste to pay her rents, which she doth to the Brooks and Riuers, as Bay lifes to that great Exactour, who takes them grumbling, as neuer satisfyed. She is the breast of Nature, and Nature the Nurse that suckles al things with her milke, and is so good a Nurse and so prodigal of her sugred lickours, as where she can not els communi­cate herself, of her owne accord wil she break out into Springs: Springs so called indeed, because they leap and spring forth of the earth. For so shal you see the litle lambs and kids prickt with this milk of Nature, wel concoct with youthful heat, to spring, to iump, and frisk; whence doubtles the season of the Spring tooke first the name. For what is the blosso­mes, trow you, to spring and bud forth, but for Na­ture to breake out as into Springs? The Rose springs forth, while Nature breaks a veyne as it were, that springs into a Rose. The Lillie springs, while Nature spilles her crystal milk, that sprouts into a Lillie. The Springs and Fountains therefore, are the life of Nature, if the life, as some maintaine, abide in the veynes, which may wel be. They are the verie ticklings of Natures hart, that make her sprug vp herself in the season of the Spring, to court the world with, in her best array. For then she crownes herself with a gar­land of al flowers, puts on the mantle of her goodlie meadowes diapred al ouer, and tricks and decks vp her hayre, the fruitful trees, with gemmes of blosso­mes of infinit varieties, to feast and entertaine the new-borne world.

THE MORALS.

‘PERENNIS ET INDEFICIENS.’

AL things that are,The Motto. haue their certain tearmes; and ther is a stint and period to be seen, in al things. Be they treasu­res of immense riches how vast soe­uer, they may be summed with good Arithmetick, to a last farthing. The Cataracts of waters, in Noe's time, that powred downe so fast, at last were exhausted quite, and gaue leasure to the Earth, to swallow and digest so huge a draught. They were neither perpetual, for they lasted but a time; nor yet without measure, for it may be supposed the Springs were dryed, or that the hand of GOD had put a sluce to the torrents. Elias called for rayne, and it powred downe so fast, as manie were affrayd of a second deluge; but the glut and tempest ceased in a certain time, & al was wel. To leaue these, and to come to Man, whose pride makes him oft-ti­mes to pretēd to a kind of eternitie of felicitie; Let him lift vp his crest neuer so loftily, his pride wil soon haue a fal. Alexander how great soeuer, when he saw he could not eternize himself, & become dread­ful enough otherwise, vsed a stratagem, which was to be drawne by Apelles in sundrie manners, now mounting on his Steed, that braue Bu [...]ephalus, in the action of making the earth to trēble with his looks; and then to be admired in the habit and equipage of a GOD, calling himself the Sonne of Iupiter Amon; but the truth is, his looks made not the earth to quake, but only in his picture; nor was he adored, but in his pourtrait, and he no more then a mortal man, whose [Page 213] Aurora and cursorie day, had a speedie sun-set.

Nero caused a coyne of gold to be stampt, where his owne effigies was engrauen of the one side, and of the other Fortune enchained at the foot of a Rock, with this word: Nec scopulos metuo. But he shortly found the contrarie, when killing himself, he suffered ship­wrack in the sea of his owne bloud. Otho represented himself in such peeces of gold, with his hand armed with thunder, with this: Alijs non [...]tor armis. But soone the spring of his life and Raigne, was the winter of his death; and what death but a death which his life deserued? There is nothing sure and perpetual in this world; but al things slide away like running streames from the spring-head, which leaue not so much behind them, as the memorie of their passage. The Spring only is it, which stil remaynes, whose waters after they haue runne an endles time, shal then but seeme to begin to runne, as being an Abysse of wa­ters sprung from an endles source. Looke then what the Spring is of elemental liquids, the same is the Mo­ther of GOD, an endles fountain of spiritual graces and perfections, and is truly the FONS PERENNIS ET INDEFICIENS of al Graces.

THE ESSAY.

TO speake of the Fountain truly,The Reuiew. as the thing deserues, one had need of a foun­tain of wit and brayne about him, to decipher it aright. For who can draw a picture of one that can not sit, but is euer iogging vp and downe? For lo, the fountain-water neuer stands, but hath the palsey in the veynes, that wil not rest. It is sometimes taken for the Fabrick itself; as built of stone; which if we should, the diffi­tie [Page 214] would encrease. For so were we obliged to ex­presse as manie formes wel nigh, as there are fan­cies in the Brayne. For some shal you see of one fashion, some of another, as euerie one abounds in his sense. Witnes that so artificially wrought by the famous Michael Angelo de Bonaro [...]i in figure of a Woman washing and winding of linnen clothes in her hands; in which act of hers, she straynes forth the Fountain-waters. Another haue I seen of an Ele­phant spouting the waters from his Proboscides or trunk, to the pleasures of the Spectatours; another of a Whale, that spouted the waters so high, as euen did diselement the same into a dust or powder of waters. Another so cunningly set and contriued, as what with the waters so disposed, and the Sunnie rayes togeather, it would make a perfect Iris in the eyes of al men; and a thousand other, while Art in nothing more wil vye with Nature, then with her workmanships of this kind. The Fountain therfore is properly neither the manufacture alone so wrought, nor the water of itself, as it creeps in the veynes of the Earth. For so the one were a liuelesse Statue of Man or beast, and the other a Spring only, and no Fountain; The one would be but a dead or sensles Carkas, and the other only in the Concha, as the bloud abiding in a boule; so as to haue a Fountain indeed it must be aliue, and haue the siluer bloud, as in the veynes, that spouts, streames, or trickles from it: Such as Niobe herself was trans­formed into a Liuing Fountain, as it were, when she wept out her eyes; such, I say, as Magdalen was at her Maister's feet, or as that great Porter of Heauen and the Keeper of the keyes therof, when he so bit­terly wept at the Cock-crow. I can not tel, whether [Page 215] there can be a brauer sight, then such as these, cu­riously represented in marble, with the azure vey­nes appearing in the bodie, and the rest of the linea­ments liuely set forth; and then to behold the trick­ling streames to fal from the eyes, either as pearls by drops, or as open Cataracts burst forth.

THE DISCOVRSE.

BEhold we now the Incomparable Foun­tain itself of liuing waters of Grace,The Suruey. that flow from thence: to wit, the Sig­ned Fountain, the most pure Virgin Mo­ther of GOD, according to that of the Canticles: The fountain of gardens, Cant▪ 4. the well of liuing waters which flow with violence from Libanus; and againe: My sister is a signed or sealed Fountain. She is a Fountain placed by or neer GOD; she is a Fountain turned into a Riuer; She is a perpetual Fountain; and lastly a sweet and plea­sant Fountain. She was a signed fountain, because she was likewise an enclosed Garden. She was a Garden, because Her vnderstanding was ful of fayth, and knowledge of GOD, with infinit varietie of flowers of al kinds; and closed it was, because no errour or ignorance might enter therinto. She was a Garden, because her affect was ful of loue to GOD and her Neighbour; and closed, because no terrene loue or base desire of the flesh or world, could find accesse to her hart. She was a signed Fountain, because her Virginal womb was ful of the water of Celestial grace; and signed, because [Page 216] sealed with the irreuocable Vow of perpetual and immaculate Virginitie. She was a Fountain placed neer to GOD, Because with thee is the Fountain of life; A Foun­tain, in that she refrigerates from the heat of concu­piscence; and a Fountain of grace, for that she viui­fyes from the death of mortal sinne; and because she is very neer to GOD, she plentifully and aboundant­ly powreth forth herself to al.

This litle Fountain encreased to a huge Riuer, and flowed into very manie waters. Hest. 11. For lo she was a litle fountain in her humilitie and conuersation; but then grew into an immense Riuer, in her Annunciation and Conception of the Sonne of GOD; and flowed into manie Waters in her glorious Assumption, when she flowes so abun­dantly, as al participate of her fulnes; as wel they without (as yet in banishment) as those also in the streets of the Celestial Hierusalem; according to that of Salomon in his Prouerbs:Prou 5. Thy fountains are deriued abroad, and thou diuidest thy waters in the streets. She is a perpetual Fountain, because (as Esay sayth) a Fountain of waters, whose waters neuer fayle. Esay. 1. 6. Other Fountains wil soone dry vp, but this neuer, For the loue of the world is no endles or perpetual Spring, but slides away, goes, and comes, and oft comes to nought; but is a Ces­tern rather, that wil in time be exhausted, and that ere very long.Hier. 2. They haue left me the Fountain o [...] liuing Water, and framed to themselues broken Cesterns that leake and can hold no water. Lastly, this Fountain of Ours, is sweet and pleasant. For as Springs and Fountains of waters, arising from the Sea▪ and passing through veynes, as it were, and subterranean places, become very fauourie and sweet; and that by certain degrees, ha­uing [Page 217] first of al a kind of bitternes with them, and then a more gratful, and lastly a pleasant and delicious tast. So the blessed Virgin like a Fountain springing from the source and origin of the bitter and harsh people of the Iewes, was through a singular and especial prerogatiue pre­serued from the least tack of those brackish wa­ters, whence she came; and being diuinely san­ctifyed by the Holie-Ghost, became a most delicious Fountain of al graces; according to that of Iudith: The bitter fountains are made sweet to drink. Iud. 5. From whence, as from a publick Conduit of a Cittie, the vniuersal Church deriues infinit streames of graces and fauours. And, as in great Citties there is wont to be some Conduit or Concha, or most am­ple and spacious Channels erected in the open mar­ket-place, from whence may al at their pleasure fetch waters without limit or restraint, for al their vses; besides some special pipes conueighed into some mens houses, as a singular fauour: So the blessed Virgin, like a copious and endles Con­duit, abundantly affords the waters of her graces to al that haue their recourse to her for them; and more particularly and familiarly to those, that are her special Deuotes, as being of her families and ho­lie Sodalities.

Let vs now see then, what waters she affords; for surely her waters are ful of Vertues. And first, they coole and refrigerate, and are therefore most welcome to the thirstie soule. And as Fountain-water in Sommer is more cold, and hotter in Winter: so the Incomparable Virgin, in the sommer of pro­speritie giues fresh and coole waters, to wit, a cooling and refrigerating grace, that the mind be not too much enflamed with terrene affects; [Page 218] but in the winter of Aduersitie yealds her waters hot, that is, inflaming, least the mind with aduer­sities being too much depressed, might coole, and at last grow vtterly cold in the loue and seruice of God. As these waters coole, so do they quic­ken and viuify withal; and are therefore called liuing or the waters of life.Num. 13. Heart the clamour of this people, and open them the treasure, the fountain of liuing water.

These Fountain-waters haue an humectiue and vegetatiue vertue with them, to water and to make things prosper and grow vp.C [...]n. 2. A fountain as­cended from the earth, watering the vniuersal superfi­cies. So Genesis. And for growing, Esay sayth: The shower falles and snow from heauen, and returns no more; Esa. 55. but inebriates the earth, powers vpon it, and makes it to spring and grow vp. For the earth indeed is sayd, first to put forth the blade of the wheat, then the green eare, and lastly it becomes a ripe and ful-grayned eare of corne. And this heauen­lie Fountain of ours, first makes the earth of our soule, to put forth the green hearb of the feare of God, which is the beginning of a new life; then the green eare of Pennance, which is bitter and sharp; lastly a ful perfect fruit in the ripe eare, which is Charitie; since Dilection is the fulnes of the Law.

And to conclude,Rom. 13. the vertues of these waters haue the power to ascend and mount vp, accor­ding to that: The water which I shal giue you, shal be (in her) a Fountain of water arising and springing to eternal life. And as the nature and propertie of the water is especially in pipes to arise the high­er,I. 4. the lower it falles: so the Virgin stooping [Page 219] to the center of her Nothing, is aduanced so high, aboue the Cherubins and Seraphins themselues; and so consequently the waters of grace, that flow to vs from her, rayse vs the higher in Hea­uen, while by her example we stoop downe and abase our selues, and especially despise these base and terrene things.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

IT had not rayn'd, and so the earth was dry,
No showres of Grace were falling from the sky.
An vniuersal drought possest the Land
With dearth & famine;
The Pause.
God's reuengeful hand
On Eue, pass'd to her progenie, For sinne,
Man's soule, like earth dried vp had euer byn,
But that there did a cristal Spring arise,
To drench the barren soile, and fertilize:
For Naamans (Iordan-like) it made a floud,
That flowd with Grace.
Tur­bata est in ser­mone cius.
'Twas Troubled (not with mud,
While She's cal'd ful of grace) But sinner I
Am troubled, 'cause I want. Fountain, supply.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, that as an Aqueduct hath length and breadth with it:The Contem­plation. so our glorious Virgin, the Fountain, I men­tioned aboue, of liuing waters, as an Aqueduct hath so great a length, as she reaches euen from heauen to the earth; according to that mellifluous Doctour: Marie is an Aqueduct,S. Ber. whose top like Iacob's ladder, rea­ches to Heauen. And the breadth of this Aqueduct is such, as she was able to containe the Diuine Fountain itself, as the same S. Bernard affirmes: A Fountain is bor­ne to vs,Idem. because that Celestial veyne hath descended by the Aqueduct, though not affording vs the whole plentie of the fountain, yet powring out certain stil­licides of grace, into our dry and arid harts.

[Page 221] Consider then, that as we can not deriue the waters of the Heauens into our Conduits on earth, without some conueyance or other: so can we not expect the waters of Grace to come from thence without some Aqueduct of Grace, which is the blessed Virgin, the Incomparable Fountain therof; for that, as S. Bernard sayth, the flouds of graces were wanting so long to human kind, for that as yet no Aqueduct had made intercession for it. Seeke we therefore grace through the inuocation of Marie, Mother of Grace; and what­soeuer we offer to GOD, commend we to Marie, that grace may returne back by the same channel, by which it flowed.

Ponder lastly the manner how this Aqueduct or Fountain of ours communicates its waters; for to some she communicates in manner of a Well, to some againe in manner of a Spring, and thirdly to others in manner of Riuer-waters. The Well hath its waters hid in the bottom of the pit, and not to be drawne without some difficultie: in which manner she communicates herself to sinners only, to whom the waters of grace are hidden, but yet to be fetcht and had with the labour of contrition and pennance. but the water of the Spring is drawne without la­bour at al, and flowes continually: and in this manner she communicates herself to pious Soules and her Deuotes, because continually she affords them gra­ces with much facilitie; and lastly, as touching the Riuer, that flowes so with great abundance, she com­municates and powres forth herself to the Blessed Soules, with ineffable graces, which are not commu­nicable to mortal wights.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Virgin Marie, The Collo­quie. Fountain of grace, Fountain, I say, of the Paradise of pleasure. Thou cristal Well of the liuing waters, which flowe with impetuositie from Libanus, O signed and sealed Fountain, such as the Wise-man so points forth, that beganst to rise from the earth of a barren soile, to fructify the world with thy Merits, and to water it with thy Graces. Thou litle Fountain as then, now growne to a great and ample Riuer, who in thy birth ap­pearing as a litle Spring by humilitie, and then a Fountain of more note, and so encreasing stil with sanctitie in conuersation becamest atlast to be a swelling Riuer, when so thou conceauedst in thy Wōb, the source of al graces, that precious Oyle CHRIST IESVS; so as now from the plenitude of this Fountain, through al places of the Church, haue balsomed liquours been deriued to vs, Obtayne, ô incomparable Virgin, inexhaustible Fountain of Graces, of that deare Sonne of thine, that the waters of his Celestial graces may so water my soule, that through spiritual ariditie it be not enforced to languish vtterly. This I beseech thee, thou Fountain of liuing waters.

THE XX. SYMBOL. THE MOVNT.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Mount or Mountains are of the no­blest and best extraction of the earth, and therefore aptest to take fire;The Impresa wit­nes Aetna or Mongibel. They are as great Barons in England, and Grandes in Spaine, for their eminencie aboue the rest of Hils, in the Vpper-house, & the other as Knights & Bour­geses of the Lower; the Vallyes being no more then the Commons of the Land, who choose them out to stand for the people. They are the Cedars of the earth, and Cesars in the Senat of the highest towers, as [Page 224] topping them al and keeping them vnder. They are the Piramides of mould, more ancient and more la­sting then those of Egipt; and the true Mausoleums of the Monuments of Nature; the statelie Collosses of earth, erected as Gog Magogs among the lesser people of the Hils or Hillocks. They are as Sauls, far higher then their brethren by head and shoulders: and the rest as litle Dauids, more fit to keep sheep in the lower playnes. Had not Mount Arrarat stood so a tipt-toe as it were, the Ark had been forced to haue made a longer nauigation, and Natures shop had not been opened so soone, to expose her Specieses of li­uing things to the new world, nor yet the doores and windowes therof so soon had been vnbolted within. The Mountains then, are as Atlas shoulders; to sustaine and bear vp the Welkin with. If the earthlie Paradise be yet on earth, it must be surely on some Mountain top, or els as hanging in the ayre, and so no earthlie Paradise. They are the Rocks of the Ayre, against the which the racking clowds, like Argoseyes, dash and breake themselues, and suffer shipwrack. They haue the honour of the first salutes of the glorious Sun, in the Aurora of his first appearing; and haue his last kisses, ere he goe to bed. They haue their intelligen­ces with the Intelligences themselues; and were they not so pursie and vnweildie, might euen dance to their musicks, howsoeuer they may listen to them as they stand.

THE MORALS.

‘IN VERTICE MONTIVM.’

THere is nothing honourable, that is not good;The Motto. nothing good, that is not equita­ble; and nothing equitable, that is not wholy opposit to al deordinations. True honour consists in fearing GOD; and to spare neither life nor ought that is deerest, in augmentation of one's glorie. It stands not vpon its Ancesters, in seeking so much to borrow luster from them, as to earne it of itself. So as if it can not arriue to their vertue, who haue left it anie Title by inheri­tance, it blushes more for its owne infirmitie therin, then vaunts of the blazon of its House, whose great­nes makes it not haughtie or imperious, but rather, as the fixed starres, the higher it is, the lesse it desires to appeare; nor regards it so much an outward pomp, or swelling o [...]tētation, as the solid veritie of a Soule truly noble. Courtesie and sweetnes can no more be seuered from it, then the bodie from the soule, to re­mayne true honour; nor doth it of anie base facilitie to insinuate with, but out of a natural courtesie co­ming from a true esteeme of its self. None more en­clined to compassion towards the afflicted, or more disposed to succour them, then it; and then most, when they haue least help otherwise, and lesse possi­bilitie to requite. It is more careful to yeald true ho­nour to the Creatour, then to receaue it frō anie one. In a word, it so behaues itself, as it holds the Bodie of true honour, to consist not in the bloud or dignitie only, but the Soule in the eminence of vertue aboue others. This true Nobilitie and honour the glorious [Page 226] Virgin had in high measure, who being lineally des­cended from the race of Kings, and, which is more, exalted to the soueraigne degree of the Mother of GOD, and consequently raysed aboue al the hils of the blessed Spirits in Heauen, yea the Cherubins and Seraphins themselues; stiled herself, the handmayd of our Lord, being arriued, I say, to sit IN VERTICE MONTIVM.

THE ESSAY.

MOVNTAINS are one of the gallantst things in Nature, especially if we regard the Prospect they afford, to deliciat the eyes with;The Reuiew. when taking a stand vpon some good aduantage, you behold from thence a goodlie riuer vnderneath; which in token of homage, as it were, runnes kissing the foot therof, along as it goes. But the most delicious it is, whē you see on the other side, a vast playne suspended before you, and diuersi­fyed with litle risings, hils, and mountains, heer and there, which bounding not the view too short, suffers the eyes with freedome to extend themselues into the immensitie of Heauen, while the Riuer, creeping along the meadowes with Meander-windings enclo­ses the Hil about, in forme of an Iland, whence manie vessels of al sorts riding there at ancker, may be dis­cryed, the neerest questionles very easily discerned, & the rest farther off through interposition of bācks between, not perceaued, the tops of the masts only appearing, like a Groue or wood in winter without leaues; the litle closes or fields thereabout, with the hedge-rowes enuironing the same, seeming as Gar­den-plots hedged in with prim; and the lanes and high wayes as dressed into allyes. The verdures giue forth themselues delicious to behold, like a Lādskap [Page 227] in a table, with al the greenes to be foūd in the neck of a mallard, heer a bright, there a dark, and then a bright and a dark againe, & al by reason of the leuels, with the risings, and fallings togeather, with the lights & reflectiōs caused through the dawning of the day in the morning or twylight of the euening, the rayes of the sunne being an open enemie to such neer prospects, offending the view with too much simpli­citie & sinceritie of dealing. It is a great curiositie in Nature, to enquire how these Mountains first came vp, so to surmount the lesser Hils and lower vallyes; or whether Nature intended them first, or no. If so; how came she partial? if not, how came they to be so? and a thousand other diuels they rayse besides, which no ordinarie Coniurer can lay. But such would I haue to aske the Vallyes, how they came to be so beneath the Hils or higher Mountains? which if they satisfye, I vndertake, the Mountains shal as much. But the truth is, he that puts generositie in some aboue the rest, and made not al of the same euennes and tenour of mind: and so in other things he made a Cedar and a shrub, a Pine and a bramble, an Alexander & a Diogenes, a Caesar and an Irus, a Giant and a dwarf: so made he Mounts of Pelion and Ossa, and the vales of Mambre and Iosaphat. These, frō the first, were so created mountains & vallyes; vnles perhaps, as with the Angels, al were once as mountains, til Lucifer and his Complices aspi­ring higher then they should, were throwne headlōg, and made the vales of Hellish feinds: So such as wil aspire to be so wise, to search into the secrets of God's hidden Architecture, shal be rankt in the number of the sillie vales, in punishment of their daring follie to presume so much.

THE DISCOVRSE.

BVT then to speake of the Mount of Moun­tains, The Suruey. placed in the Garden of the Empy­real Heauens, where al are Mounts, and this the Mount paramount aboue them al; is a work of a higher nature, the Incompara­ble Virgin MARIA, I meane, that admirable and myste­rious Mount, so like in name and qualitie to that of Mo [...]nt-Moria, a certain hil in the Cittie of Ierusalem. For as on that Mount-Moria, Salomon first founded his Tem­ple, the house of GOD: so in this our Montain Maria, was the heauenlie and Celestial Temple of the true Salomon raysed indeed, which he sayd within three dayes should be re-edifyed againe, in case it were rui­ned, to wit, the Temple itself of the humanitie of IESVS CHRIST. Moria signifyeth the land of vision; & what land more worthie to be seen thē Marie, the Mo­ther of GOD? Moria is sayd to be a high and statelie land, and next to GOD: and there is nothing so high and sublime as Marie is, no not the Angels nor Arch­angels, nor yet the Cherubins or Seraphins them­selues. Moria is interpreted shining o [...] illuminating: and Marie being clothed with the Sun, illumines Mortals, and truly shines, as being truly the Starre of the Sea. Moria, Pagnin as some Authours say, is deriued of the He­brew Mori, which signifyes my mirrh, and Iah, which is GOD, as much to say as GOD is my mirrh. And was he not truly her mirrh indeed, when she stuck him so in her bosome, as he lay in her lap, being taken from the Crosse, according to that: my beloued to me is a bundle of mirrh? and she herself no lesse then mirrh; if we look into her name, which is Marie, quasi amarum mare, a Sea as bitter as mirrh itself;Eccl. 24. of whom is sayd: As a choice [Page 229] mirrh haue I yeaded a sweetnes of odour: Maria is deriued al­so, as some wil haue it, from the Hebrew mereh, which is teaching, and iah, GOD; teaching; who taught in­deed, when being seated as Salomon in his Throne, or rather Wisdome it-self in its Scholastical Chaire, in the Womb of the Virgin-Mother, for so manie months, he read to the world such a Lecture of humilitie, pa­tience, charitie, and al vertues particularly in his In­carnation; but especially in the Crib, and armes of his Mother, when teaching both Iew and Gentil, in the Shepheards and Magi, at his Birth & Manifestation, he so taught them the Ghospel. It is finally interpre­ted the Rayne of GOD, where you may iudge what a showre of grace by this our Marie was powred into the world, when Anna, as a dry & barren clowd, for manie yeares before, was at last deliuered of her; and she powred into the world, as a showre of rayne, after a tedious famine, to fertilize and fructify the earth.

Nor is Marie our Mount restrayned to Moria only, but Sinaj also seemes to represent her, no lesse in regard that Hil is accompted the Mount of mercie & promi­se, as wel as she. This Sinaj is scituated in the prouin­ce of Madian, wherof Oreb is a part, & where our Lord appearing to Moyses in a bush, and taking compassion on the affliction of his people, promised to free them, from the bondage of the Egyptians, through the power of this mightie hand,Exod. as we haue it in Exo­dus. And so was the Blessed Virgin Marie, as the Queen of mercie, promised and prefigured in the same Bush, wherin our Lord appeared to Moyses; and for the rest, were the promises likewise perfor­med in her, of the Redemption and deliuerance of the Human kind, from the thraldome and sla­uerie of the Diuel, while the Sonne of GOD tooke flesh of her for our ransome and deliuerie. [Page 230] Our Lord descended on mount Sinaj &c. That mount was likewise as the Rendeuous & haunt of our Lord; for there the Angel appeared oftē on behalf of our Lord, & spake familiarly to Moyses; & therefore it is said of him in the Acts:Act 7. He appeared to him in the desert of mount Sinaj, in the flame of a fierie bush. And so was the Blessed Virgin saluted, and as frequently visited by the Angel, and instructed no lesse of the Word of life. Sinai was a Mount of rayne, & Deaw: & so was the Blessed Vir­gin, Psal. 71 in conceauing the Sonne of GOD; according to that: He shal descēd as rayne on a [...]. Sinaj was the Mount of the Diuine habitation; for so, according to Iosephus was the cōmon opinion in those dayes. And the Bles­sed Virgin was truly the habitation and dwelling of GOD.Ps. 110. She was the mount in whom GOD took much delight. Sinaj was the Mount of wisdome aud learning; for the­rin was the Law deliuered to the people by the hand of Moyses: so likwise the Blessed Virgin-Mother brought him forth to the world, who is the Word & Wisdo­me of the Father; who is our Captain & Law-giuer, through whō do Kings raigne, & the giuers of Lawes decree iust things. She was a Mount distilling the oy­le of mercie; a Mount of peace & alliance; a Mount of pastures to feed on; a Mount, where it pleased GOD to inhabit,Psal. 75. 67 41. as Dauid sayd, the Mount of GOD, the fat Mōut, the holie & litle Mount, which Esay fortold of, which should be prepared,Isai. 2. & to which al the world should resort for pleasure, and repayre for sweet consola­tion; the Mount familiar to the Angels, in their fre­quent visits.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

AGaine is rays'd (while Mortals feigne, and erre)
The Statue of Nabucodonozer.
Th. P [...]
Heresie on feet of Clay and Iron stands,
Which haue no Vnion. Lo, cut without hands
A stone falles from a Mountaine. Sh' had a Sonne,
Who (hauing vow'd) sayd: How can this be donne;
I know no man. 'Twas then the work alone
Of th' Holie-Ghost: Thus without hands the Stone
Fel from the Mountain. Head, brest, armes, and al
By striking of the feet, demolisht, fal.
O, with that Stone, this Monsters feet misled,
May she breake downe, that crusht the Serpe [...]

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, that as Libanus is a Mount of indeficient waters;The Contem­plation. for that, there, according as we haue it in the Cāticles, are springs of liuing waters, which flow with a force and violence; & Libanus itself [Page 232] is a fountain and spring of flouds; while on the foot therof, two fountaines arise, the one Ior, the other Dan; which sliding & falling into one, do make the Iordan at last, as S. Hierom sayth. So our Incomparable Virgin is truly a Libanus likewise of endles & indeficiēt waters, whose graces and fauours continually flow to Mortals; nor can those springs of hers be euer dry, to wit, her perpetual virginitie, and stupendious hu­militie; which being so vnited in her Annunciatiō; pro­duced such a Iordan of al graces in the person of her deerest Sonne our Sauiour Christ.

Consider then, that as Mount Libanus is a Mount of fragancie and sweet odours; and therefore it is sayd; Like Libanus hauing the odour of sweets. For there are trees that beare the incence,Ec. 39. and many odoriferous herbs besids, do there grow. So in our sacred Libanus, the Virgin Marie; are the delicious odours of al vertues, with the Incence of sublime prayer and contempla­tion; the perfumes of sanctitie & holie conuersation, the mirrh of mortification & memorie of death, while her life was nothing els, but a continual lan­guor of perpetual mortification, as wel in denying herself the pleasures, contentments, and delights of the world, as in sighing & groning so much after hea­uen, where her whole conuersation was. And there­fore is it sayd in the Canticles: Fly my beloued, resemble the goat & fawn of the deer on the Mountains of spices, as much to say, as fly from the vanities of the world, & hygh you to Libanus the mount of Spices, to the Blessed Virgin the Libanus of al graces.

Ponder lastly, that as Libanus is interpreted white, for the candour of the snow, which perpetually co­uers the same: so is our Libanus no lesse white, yea a great deale more, through the candour of perpetual Virginitie, which is a kind of whitnes of the flesh; & [Page 233] as Libanus through the abundance of the Deawes, & much quantitie of raynes, that fal vpon it, abounds with principal hearbs, fat pastures, and excellent fruits: so in our Libanus of the Blessed Virgin; do flow the deawes of Diuine grace, and the raynes of spiri­tual knowledge: and therefore abounds she so with the rich pastures of the sacred Scriptures, and Celes­tial vnderstandings of high Mysteries, with plenti­ful hearbs of the flourishing green of al vertues, & es­pecially loaden with the gallāt fruits of soules.Oset. 14. Her root shal break forth, as that of Libanus; her boughes shal grow out, and her glorie shal be as the Oliue, and her odour as of Libanus; sayth the Prophet.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Queen of Angels and Archangels,The Collo­quie. of Patriarks, Pro­phets; and Euangelists; of Apostles, Martyrs, and Confes­sours; of Doctours, Anchorits, and Hermits, and especial [...]y the Crowne and glorie of Virgins, Widowes, and of al holie Woe­men, in the coui [...]gal state. o Mountain among the lesser hils of al those Saints, that haue been euer, are, or euer shal be. O excellent Mountain, O eminent Mountain. O Mount, who­se aire is temperate and neuer troubled, where no Serens of in­ordinate concupiscences euer fal, and where no iniurie of times euer works anie mischief. Mountain of pleasure, deli­cious Paradice, the Libanus of sanctitie, the Sinaj of Maiestie, and terrour to the reprobate, the Caluarie of compassion of thy Sonne's passion, the Thabor of Diuine mysteries, the Oliuet of ioy and eternal happines: In a word, O mount of heauen & fayre habitation of the Heauen of Heauens, O Virgin, Alas, make me of thy condition, draw my soule from the seruitude of sinne, from the affection of the world, & tyrannie of the flesh; & put my feet on the Mountain of perfectiō, that so approching neerer to thee, I may come to inbabit with thee, aboue the clowds, O graūt this same, I beseech thee, for his sake, who came downe from heauen to meet thee, in the clowds, accōpanied with miriads of Saints, & blessed Spirits, at thy glorious Assumptiō.

THE XXI. SYMBOL. THE SEA.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE CHARACTER.

THE Seas, are the great Diet, or Parlia­ment held of Waters, at the first crea­tion of the world,The Im [...]resa when GOD himself was the onlie Speaker of the House; where they met of compulsion rather then faire accord, while euerie whispering of sini­ster breath puts them al into combustion, when for the time, there wil be no dealing with thē, so impla­cable they are, that the stoutest are faine to vale-bo­net & stoop vnto them. They are great Vsurers, & li­kelie neuer let go anie pawnes they once lay hold of, which they extort ful sore against their wils who leaue thē in their clutches. They are infinit rich with [Page 235] such booties, & may wel compare with their neigh­bour Pluto or Mamō himself. They wil sometimes not­withstanding be very calme, courteous, & seren: so as they wil inuite the houshold-Nimphes & Halcions to sing & dance to the noyse of their musick, & of a sudden change the key and tune so, as none but Dol­phins cā brook the stage, or keep measure with their boysterous time, in the vnrulie Reuels they keep. As the Earth, haue they also their mines of richest wealth, lying in the bowels of their Abysses, which enioy no other light, thē their owne lusters, nor euer are like to do; such couetous misers they are of their pelf. They haue likewise their dales & mountains to, but those so restles, as no beasts can graze vpō them, going vpon foure, but such as take anie benefit of those pastures, are faine to go on their breasts. They are the humid firmament without firmnes, where al the starres are mouing Planets. They are the clowdie or waterie ayre, where the birds make vse of fins insteed of wings. Only the Element of fire hath no frienship with thē, but is at deadlie fewd with them, & therefore goes as farre frō them, as possibly it can, because they neuer meet, but it payes wel for it, with its owne destruction. They scarcely acknowledge anie deitie aboue them, or homage due to anie but the Moon, to whome they are very punctual & obse­quious, nor misse her a moment with their seruice, at her beck to go & come as hawkes in a line, or hor­ses with the bit, that dare not go amisse. Most think, they are flegmatick, because so humid, but rather I take them, to be of a melancholie complexion, with the guift of teares only, for that their waters are euer brackish & bitter as teares are. In fine, they are another world in thēselues, wherin GOD hath plūged and drencht the diuersities of al earthlie creatures.

THE MORALS.

‘AB A MARO MARE, A MARI MARIA.’

THE Egiptians for characters,The Motto. had pictures; of pictures, made they books; wherin they had need to haue been excellent Morallists, and consequently good Naturallists, to know the natures and properties of al creatures. I adde withal, some part of their wits also, should haue layne in their fin­gars ends, to shape forth with cole or chisel, so manie diuersities of things. Adam our first Parent, gaue them the first ground therof, when frō the beginning he so called & assembled al the new-born creatures to giue thē names, as a Baylif of some great Lord should goe about, to marke this Maister's sheep, with special marks, notes, or signes of whose they are. And this he did, by the pattern & exāple first giuē him by GOD in himself and his consort, the first that euer took anie name; while he was called Adam, as signifying, de terra terrenus, & she Virago, à viro desumpta. The Patriarks after him stil practized the same, which Adam did; assigning names very apt to al their children, as the present oc­casiōs put them in the head, or rather as diuinely in­spired by him, that best can skil, to single out and cal each thing by its proper name. Hēce Ioseph, as his type, was called a Sauiour and Iosue likewise, for the same reason. S. Iohn the Baptist his Precursour was called Grace, which Iohn imports, to signify the coming and approach of Grace indeed, in the Messias at hand. Yea IESVS, which signifyes Sauiour, came at last with that name assigned him from al eternitie, and lastly giuen him by the Paranymph Angel, with the surname of Emanuel, as much to say, as Deus nobiscum. And so the In­cōparable Virgin, was Diuinely sorted with the name of MARIE, that fitted her so right. For she was indeed a Sea of bitternes, through the seauenfold sword of [Page 237] sorrow, that pierced her hart; and therefore rightly. AB A MARO MARE, A MARI MARIA.

THE ESSAY.

THE richest pieces of Eloquence,The Reuiew. and Poetry are borrowed of the Sea; be it for descriptions of some notable shipwrack, or to expresse the bluste­ring winds, which furrow the face of that liquid Ele­ment, raysing vp billowes, that dash and wash as it were the very face of the Heauens, and seeme to plunge the Starres in the surges of the wrathful Ne­mesis or Thetys rather; or lastly in expressing some Nau­machias, or sea-fights, or that of the Remora, that Caesar of Caesars in captiuing so, in a floating Castle, Caligula the Roman Monark, to the stupour and amazement of the world. These are the vses Poets make therof, but Philosophers goe further yet, and tel vs stranger things of this stupendious work of Nature, of the Flux and Reflux therof, and faire correspondences it hath with the Moon. The fabulous Antiquitie hath reckoned euer the Sirens those chanting Nimphs, & great enchantresses, to be the Hostesses of the Sea; and euen the sagest of them in their follies, take it for a grace to their Goddesse Venus, to fetch her extraction from the impure flames of the waues. This we know by experience, the fome and froth of the Sea, being dryed with the rayes of the Sun, conuert to sponges, & they againe into pomice-stones, as light as Venus herself; it is ordinarily veyled with vapours, curtened ouer with clowds, enwrapped with fogs, and sometimes buryed in Cimerian darknes; then of a sudden it changes the countenance, and be­comes a cerulean Sea, as various in hew, with as manie coulours, as the changeable neck of a Doue giues forth with the reflection of the Sun; when the former furrowes al of wrath in [Page 238] the face of this stern Ocean wil turne to smiles and daliances with his amorous Tethis; the Halcion, the ioy of Marriners wil streight appeare vpon the decks of ships to glad the passengers, & the Dolphins dāce before them with a pleasant glee; the waterie paue­ments seeme as swept the while, to inuite them like­wise to dance laualtoes with thē; and the gentle Eurus and Zephirus in disposition to tune their pipes for the purpose. And for Cosmographers (whome we must be­leeue, vnles with measuring the world ourselues, we wil disproue thē) they tel vs, the Ocean is that vniuer­sal Choas of waters, which enuirous the land of al si­des: for looke what coasts soeuer they sayle vnto, they alwayes find the Seas to waft thē thither; which on the east is called the Indian Sea: on the West the Atlantick: on the North and the Regions opposit, the Pontick and the frozen Sea: and on the South, the Red or Ethiopian; beyond al which, manie striuing to reach to the vtmost shores, haue made vast nauigations, and haue sooner found their victuals to fayle them, then ample spaces of immense waters vndiscouered.

THE DISCOVRSE.

BEhold heer a singular Symbol of cur Incōparable Virgin, The Suruey. a vast and immense Sea of Charitie; for so is she pleased to go shadowed at this time, nor may it seeme to anie strange, she should do so, or we presume so to stile her, since lo the Blessed Cyprian tearmes her, not a Microcosme only, as we are al, but euen an ample, cōpleat, and vniuersal World within herself, adorned with the Species of al creatures, ‘I reade, sayth he, and vnderstand, that Marie is a certain intelligible and admirable world, whose land is the soliditie of humilitie; whose Sea, the lati­tude of Charitie; whose heauen, the height of Cōtem­plation; whose sunne, the splēdour of Vnderstanding; whose moone, the glorie of Puritie; whose Lucifer, [Page 239] the brightnes of Sanctitie; whose cluster of seauen starres, the seauen-fold Grace; and whose other star­res are the beautiful ornaments of the rest of her ad­mirable Vertues.’

The Histories report, that Helena amōg the Grecian Beauties carried the prize away; & that Zeuxis, a most exquisit painter, in the Age immediatly following, would needs draw her pourtraict, though he had ne­uer seen her while she liued: & therefore gathered he togeather al the fayrest damzels in those parts, and whatsoeuer he found rare and excellent in anie, he would exactly put into his peece, not leauing, til he had finished a most admirable peece of work, deli­neated from them, which euen rauished the eyes and harts of al. So may we say of our blessed Ladie, Mo­ther of the eternal King, that she was an abstract of al the perfectiōs possible, dispersed not only in that sex, or the humā kind, but euen likewise in the Angelical nature itself; and therefore wel might be called a Sea of al perfectiōs; since both her name, in the Hebrew, sounds as much as Sea; and as the Sea is nothing els, but a certain congregation togeather of al waters, Gen. 1. so is she no lesse an assemblie and congregation of al graces and perfections to be found elswhere.

The Sea indeed hath three properties; It is the Spring and origin of al fountains; it is alwayes ful; and is bit­ter and brackish in tast. Our Ladie likewise is the spring and origin of al graces, from whose virginal womb did IESVS flow, the fountain of this Fountain, the increated Grace, from the plenitude of whose grace, we al receaue grace, in what measure soeuer we become capable of. And as from the sea do flow great quantities of waters which it receaues againe, not being kept; so do graces flow frō the Sea of Marie in great plentie; yet with flowings and ebbings, through our ingratitude, and not making vse therof. [Page 240] But if after our neglect of her fauours we returne, as we ought, to beg them againe, though we receaue no effectual benefits by her first offers which we re­fused, yet doth she dayly offer them againe; with this differēce from those flowings of the liquid seas, that they go and come to and fro of course, and at certain times with stints; but she is readie euerie moment to communicate her fauours without limits, so we wil but open the chanels of our harts to let them in.

As al Wels, Springs, and Fountaines deriue from the Sea, the Sea virtually containes the nature and qualities of al Well-springs, current fountaines, and riuers. By which waters are aptly vnderstood the three degrees of graces, which through our Ladie flow into our harts; to wit, the Incipient or preue­nient grace, in the first beginnings of our conuersiōs; the Proficient, by which we proceed; to vertuous actions through grace receaued; & the Perfect grace, which is the ful consummation therof, and is indeed a constant perseuerance to the end in al vertues. This Incipient or commencing grace, is signifyed by the Well or spring of liuing waters; because these springs haue their waters secret & hiddē vnder ground; they suddenly arise, and no man knowes from whence, & so preuenient grace, is by vs not merited at al, but springs, and is powred into vs, through a secret and hidden inspiration of GOD, no man can tel how, or whence, but often comes through the intercession of the Incōparable Mother of mercie, and the Sea of gra­ces, being called the liuing Waters, for that by this grace, are sinners dead in sinnes, as viuifyed to life. The Fountain-water, is vnderstood to be grace Pro­ficiēt; wherof is sayd: the Fountain of the Gardens; which gardens of GOD, are the good Proficients in grace, & vertues; in whome are the hearbs & plants of al ver­tues, [Page 241] in a flourishing state; which yet could not spring at al, nor grow a whit, much lesse seeme to prosper & flourish, vnles by this fountain they were watered with grace, being a Fountain indeed ascending from the earth, Gen. 2. which waters the vniuersal face therof. By the Riuer-water, which flowes with violēce, is perfect grace to be vnderstood, which is sayd to flow with violence, be­cause such as are replenished therwith, are very ear­nest and sollicitous in the works of vertue, and pro­ceed with feruour therin.Esech. 1 Looke where the force of the spi­rit leads them, thither wil they go with a violence and impetuo­sitie as it were.

The Sea is alwayes ful, and neuer wasts; and so our Ladie was announced by the Angel, to be ful of grace, as truly she was a vast and immense Sea of al graces. Of whom the mellifluous S. Bernard sayth vpō those words of, [...]ern. Aue gratia plena: In the mouth truly was she ful of affabilitie; in her womb, with the grace of the Deitie; in her hart, with the grace of chatitie; in her hand or work, with the grace of mercie and liberalitie. So likewise are the waters of the Sea exceeding bitter; and our Virgin Marie was amarum mare, that is a bitter Sea, for diuers respects, First for sorrow, for the losse of her Sonne in the Temple: Behold thy Father and I haue sought thee with sorrow. Then was she bitter, meerly of compassion, in beholding the Spouses in the Nuptials to be abashed & confounded for want of wine; she had compassion of the Iewish nation, while she saw them to be repro­bate and forsaken of GOD; She pittied the Apostles in seing them dispersed in the passion of her Sonne; But especially was she bitterly sorie at the passion of her Sonne, when the sword of sorrow trāsfixed her hart; and lastly was she bitter for her tedious pilgrimage heer so long:Psal. and therefore would she say: Alas, how my [...]i [...]grimage is prolonged!

THE EMBLEME.

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THE POESIE.

NO sooner was the infant-world disclos'd,
The Pause.
But that God's Spirit on the Sea repos'd:
Borne on the waters did impart a heat
By influence diuine: a fertil seat
He made that vast and barren Ocean's wombe
Twas fruitful when the Holie-Ghost was come.
The sacred Virgin was a Sea like this,
But darknes on the face of the Abysse,
Was neuer on her Soule, that shined bright
From her first being; for GOD sayd: Let light
Be made: the Word was in this Sea compriz'd,
When th' Holie-Ghost the waters fertiliz'd.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first, that when the world was first created, & that the waters were diui­ded, as it were,The Contemplation. by the Firmament, while part was put aboue the Firmament and part beneath, the waters beneath on the earth, were called by the name of Maria, or Seas; and the Spirit of GOD, as we haue it in Genesis, did incubare super aquas couer, as we say, or ouershadow the waters: Which was a work of the first Creation. So in the work of our Redemption, where the blessed Virgin, Maria by name, which signifyes the Seas also, it pleased the Eternal Word, leauing the delicious bosome of the heauenlie Father to descend into this Sea, of human miseries to take them vpon him; and the Holie-Ghost likewise to ouershadow her withal.

Consider then in the Temple of Salomon, that as besi­des other riches and ornaments there, as the Propi­tiatorie aboue; the Cherubins and Seraphins of each side therof, the golden Candlestick in the midst, the Altars of Perfumes and of Propitiation, heer and there, with the lamps, the Veyle, the Ark, and the like in their places, was planted a great vessel of Brasse, ful of water, at the entrance of the said Tēple, where the Priests were to cleanse themselues, before they entred to Sacrifice; and this Vessel was called, Mare aeneum, or the brazen Sea. So ought the Priests in our Churches before they enter or approach vnto the dreadful Sacrifice of al Sacrifices, the Sacrifice of the Masse, to recurre to this Mare aeneum, our Blessed Ladie, to procure them a puritie of soule, to assist therat, or approch thervnto.

Ponder lastly, that as GOD, the soueraigne Lord of al things, communicates his offices and charges to men according to his most holie and Diuine dispen­sation [Page 244] very suitable and agreable to euerie one: as to Moyses the office of a Law-giuer to his people of Israel; to Aarō the office of high Priest; to Iosue, of Captain & Leader of them into the land of promise; and conse­quently gaue them talents accordingly to discharge the same very punctually in al things. So is it likelie, that in choosing his Mother, he vsed the self-same te­nour in his fayre dispositiō therof, to wit, in appoin­ting her so to be the Starre of the Sea, he ordeyned her no doubt to be the Ladie of the Sea, as her name im­ports. Now then as in the Seas, he hath drencht and plunged, as it were, an other world, since there is no liuing creature but hath its like in the Sea also impli­citiuely, he hath likewise appointed her to be the La­die and Mistris of al the world. For how should she saue from shipwrack, if were not Ladie & Mistris of the waues and winds? And how should she be Ladie of the Seas alone, if she were not the Ladie likewise of the land? Since she who is stiled the Ladie of the Seas, is the true and natural Mother of him, who is Lord both of Sea and land, and al the world.

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Ladie of the Ocean,The Collo­quie. Starre of the Sea, Sea of graces, Fountain; of life, Spring of liuing waters, that flow frō the Libanus of the candour of glorie! Thou great Abysse of limpid waters, whose bottome, none can reach vnto; whence no­thing ariseth, but the purest exhalations of Paradise; light clowd, whence nothing falles but deawes and showres of graces. O immense Ocean of Charitie, which bearest vp al things, and where easily nothing sincks; bitter, but in the dolours and pas­sions of thy Sonne; sweet to the creatures, that liue of thee, or depend vpon thee. O grant, I beseech thee, that wholy relying on thee, I perish not, and by neglecting thee and thy seruice, I incurre not thy disgrace, nor so running on the rocks of thy displeasure, I split not on them, nor suffer shipwrack of my soule.

THE XXI. SYMBOL. THE SHIP.

THE DEVISE.

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THE CHARACTER.

THE Ship is the artificial Dolphin of the Seas,The Impresa that much addicted to musick, is neuer set on a merrier pin, then when the winds whissel to her dancing. It is a floating Castle, that hath the gates open indeed, but trusts to her Battlements, which she hath wel planted with Canons and Sacres, wher­in she more confides, then manie do in Sacred Ca­nons; her whole saluation depending vpon them. It is a litle Common-wealth, whose whole Reason of State consists in iealousies, & spyes, which she sends [Page 246] vp to her turret-tops, to discouer, if the coasts be clear, stil standing on her guard, against the neigh­bour waues, that seeke but to swallow her vp. And al her care is, to walke vpright amidst her enemies, least vnawares they arrest her, and cite her to ap­peare at Pluto's Court, for euerie errour or default of the least ship-boy. There is no Bride requires so much time to dresse her on her wedding-day, as she to be rigd, whensoeuer she goes to sea. If they haue their fillets to bred and wreath their haires with, she hath her tacklings to trim her vp; whose ropes are as manie & as intricate as they; if they haue their veyl­es to spread vpon them, she hath her sayles, to hoyse vp to go her wayes. It is the Lion of the seas, that fea­res no Monsters, but is as dreadful herself, as anie Monster, hauing as manie mouthes as Gun-holes, & in euerie mouth a Serpent tongue, that spits & vo­mits fire, & which euen spits her teeth too, in the fa­ce of her enemies, which often sincks them vnder water. It is one of the prettiest things in the world, to see her vnder sayle, how like a Turkiecock she strouts it out, as brauing euen the Elements them­selues, both aboue and beneath her, wherof the one she ploughes with her slicing share, and braues the other with her daring look. She is an excellēt swim­mer, bnt no good diuer at al; which she neuer doth, but sore against her wil, and that with so il successe, as likely she is neuer seen more. The first that euer was seen to our Antipodes, was thought by them to haue had indeed a liuing soule with her; els would the simple people say, how could so great a bulk, so easily wind & turne it sell euerie foot; & this, becau­se they knew but the Oare only, and not the Rudder. What would they haue said then, had they knowne the effects of her Card and Compas? doubtles she had a reasonable soule. She likely neuer goes without [Page 247] her Pages with her, to wit, her Long-boat and her Cockboat, wherof she makes such vse now & then, as without them, she might starue for ought I know. She is very ciuil, if a Marchant-man; but when she is a Man of warre, then Marchants beware, and looke to your selues.

THE MORALS.

‘DE LONGE PORTANS PANEM.’

IN the Tēple of Salomon, no gold would serue his greatcuriositie,The Mott [...]. but that of Ophir. Which the Sou­thern Queē of Saba knowing wel perhaps, thought no doubt her presents would be gratful to him, coming so frō parts remote. Who is he that is not takē much with verie toyes that come frō China, which carrie I know nor how in themselues, (at least in our opiniō) a kind of luster with thē, greater farre then otherwise they would. The presēts which the Magi brought vn­to the Crib, coming from the East were deemed by them sit presents for a King, yea for a GOD. And how were Iosue & Caleb the Spyes & Intelligencers of the people of Israel extolled & magnifyed at their retur­ne with those rare & admirable booties fetched from Canaan? And yet the gold of Ophir was but gold, a yel­low earth; the presents made by Saba, such as that Co­untrie afforded; & those Indiā toyes, but toyes indeed. Yea the guifts the Magi brought, had greater luster with them from the giuers harts, then frō thēselues; & more respected for the place to which, thē whēce they came. And for those forren fruits, they came in­deed frō the lād of promise, frō Palestin, which was but the figure only of the Heauenlie countrie. But lo, our Incōparable Virgin like a Ship, most richly fraighted, hath brought vs Bread frō farre. What bread; but the true & liuing bread? How farre? As farre as Heauen. But how bread? Bread whose corne was haruested in the Mightie man's rich Boozfield, framed by the hand of the Maister Baker himself of a most pure [Page 248] meale or flower, to wit, of the immaculate Bloud of the holie Virgin herself, baked in the Ouen of an ardēt Loue, which She hath brought into the world. And therefore is truly sayd: DE LONGE PO [...]TANS PANEM.

THE ESSAY.

I Can not tel, whether in the world besi­des, be a more statelie fight to behold, then an English Ship vnder sayle, riding in the Ocean, & cutting the watrie play­nes with her sharp keel,The Reuiew. in case she haue a gallāt gentle gale in the poop; for then they feast it, and make good chear, who are the liuing soules abi­ding in this bulk of human art, compiled togeather in despite of Nature, to frame a liuing creature more then she intended, that neither should be fish nor fowle, yet liue in the ayre and water. But if the Seas proue rough, & al the marine Mōsters vise vp against her, cōspiring with the blustering Spirits of the ayre; to sinck her quite, it is a sport to see, how she rides & prances on his crooked back, sporting herself the while, and making a meer scoff at al their menaces▪ There is an infinit number of seueral sorts of these artificial creatures in the world, each country al­most hauing their kinds. There are Ships, Pinaces, Ho­yes, Barkes, Ketches, Galleyes, Galeons, Galleasses, Frigots, Brigandines, Carackes, Argoseyes, for the Seas; to say nothing of Lighters, Barges, Tiltboats, Lighthorsmen, Oares, Canoas, & Gundeloes, for the Riuers. The Ships do fly and swimme togeather, with the help of [...]ayles only; the Galleyes and their like, as Swans do sometimes fly, and sometimes paddle with the oare. They haue maine masts, crosse sayles, top & top gallāns, they haue stern, poop, rudden, ancker, ca­ble, decks, tacklings, gunnes, andigun-holes, where they haue Canon Demy-canō, Saker, Culuering; not [Page 249] to speak of the smal shot, as muskets, harkebuses, & firelocks, and a thousand more. And so much for the sensles bodie of this bulk in it-self. But then to speak of the soule, or policie, and oeconomie of this admi­rable artificial creature, or mouing world, it is a bu­sines no lesse, to set them downe. For as for the Offi­cers which are simply necessarie either in the Admi­ral or Vice-admiral of a Fleet or Royal Armado at the seas, there is a General, a Lieutenant General, a Captain, a Pilot, and the Pilot's mate; a Maister, and the Maister's mate; a Marchant, & a Marchāt's mate; the Maister of the Ship-boyes, a Secretarie, a Chirur­gion; a Boatswain, a Purser, Dispensers, Cooks, Cano­nier, & his mate, with vndergunners, ship-boyes and marriners without number. The Captain commands absolutely in al things; the chief marchāt hath power ouer the marchandize and commerce only. They double so the principal Officers, that one may supply the others want. The Secretarie sets downe the mar­chādize the Ship is fraighted with, & takes accompt of goods vnladed. The Pilot hath no other commād, but in what concerns the nauigation. The Maister hath cōmand ouer al the Mariners and saylers of the Ship; & of al the prouisions and victuals; he places & remoues the Officers at his pleasure. The Maisters of the boyes are the ablest of al the marriners, and haue the care of the cordages, sayles, and tacklings, & the like, and command the yong marriners, and do only giue correction to the Ship-boyes.

THE DISCOVRSE.

Bvt now come we to our mystical Ship, whose wayes in the vast seas the Oracu­lous Salomon admired so much.The Suruey. This had for Architect and Shipwright no lesse then the Blessed Trinitie it-self, wherin [Page 250] the Diuine persōs bestowed their chiefest Architec­ture. For the Heauenlie Father employed his Omni­potēcie therin as farre as the subiect was capable of, the eternal Word made vse of his wisdome, in preser­uing so entire the seale of integritie, & the Holie-Ghost shewed his Loue, by infusing such a plenitude of gra­ce into her. The matter she was framed of, tels vs she was of herself, of wood doubtles most sacred & my­sterious. As the Cedar am I exalted in Libanus, and as the Cypresse in mount Sion; Eccl. 24. as the beautiful; Oliue in the fields; & am exalted as the Planetree neer the waters in the streets. This Ship then was made of the Cedar of virginitie, in that the Cedar is odoriferous and incorruptible; & there­fore signifyes her virginitie, which made her grate­ful and odoriferous to GOD, & kept her flesh imma­culate & incorrupted. It was made of Cypresse, which is a wood so strong & solid, as shrincks & yealds not with anie burden, being qualities most apt for ship­ping: nor would the charitie of the blessed Virgin per­mit her euer, to shrinck vnder the weight of tribula­tions.Cant. 8. For Loue is strong as death. She was made of the Oliue of pietie, which alwayes flourisheth, & looks green, in that her pietie neuer fayled any, either in the Spring of their youth, in the Autumne of their age, in the Winter of tribulation, or in the heat of inordi­dinate concupiscences. She was further made of the Plane-tree of humilitie; for the Plane is a most spacious & ampletree; & humilitie made the Virgin most am­ple & illustrious; because thereby she receaued him into her womb, whom the Heauen of heauens was not able to containe, since S. Bernard sayth: She pleased with her virginitie, but conceaued through Humilitie.

Her stern, is her wisdome & discretion; her Oares most sacred and holie affects; the Mast, high & subli­me contemplation; the Galleries, pure & chast con­uersation; the ropes & tacklings, the cords of loue, [Page 251] vnitie and concord; the Anckor, firme hope & confi­dence in GOD; the deckes & hatches, external & ho­lie example & edification; the sayles, cleanes & puri­tie of bodie, ioyned with the blush of shamfastnes, The Pilot or Maister of the ship, the Holie-Ghost, which steered, guided, & directed her in the whole nauiga­tion of her sacred life. For if they be led by the Holie-Ghost, who are the sonnes & children of GOD, how much rather shal she be gouerned by it, who is ack­nowledged to be not only the Daughter but likewi­se the natural Mother of GOD!

The forme & figure of a Ship we know to be open aboue, close beneath, streight in the beginning, nar­row in the end, broad in the midst, & very deep. And this ship of ours the Incomparable Virgin, according to the superiour part of the Soule, was open to recea­ue Celestial guifts, but as for the inferiour, wholy shut vp frō terrene affectiōs; & moreouer so strict in the beginning of her Cōception, as Original sinne could find no place to stayne her in; She was narrow in the end of the Passiō, while for the death of her Sonne she was put to diuers streights; in the midst she was most, capacious or broad, because, as we sayd, Whō the hea­uens could not hold, she held & cōtained in the lap of her wōb; Lastly she was deep through humilitie, when being raysed to the top of the highest dignitie of being the Mother of GOD, she calles herself his lowlie hādmayd saying: Behold the handmayd of our Lord. But for the M [...]st indeed,Luc. 1. and tree of this Ship, it was CHRIST Our Lord, Luc. 23. the verie same, who called himself green wood, saying: If this be done in green Wood, what shal beco­me of the dry? Erected also,Heb. 7. as S. Paul sayth: Being made higher then the heauens; raysed in, and born of the Virgin Ship. Of which tree or mast,Ex. 27. we haue this in Exodus: They took out a Cedar from Libanus to make [Page 252] be no other then Christ erected in this Ship of our Vir­gin heer.

The Ships are made for burden; and for as much as Nations oftentimes stand in need of each other, they serue for transportation of commodities to and fro, and especially corne from the fruitful to barren countries, with the abundance of the one to supply the necessities of the other. And therefore the bles­sed Virgin, as we haue in the Prouerbs, was made as a Marchants ship, Pro 31. bringing her bread from farre & remote parts. For euen from the fertile and most fruitful soyle of the Celestial Paradise, brought she indeed that su­persubstantial bread, into the barren coasts of this world;Lue. 6. which bread sayes of itself: I am the liuing bread, who descend from heauen, wherewith the faythful are fed and nourished. Whence appeares, how farre off this mysterious ship brought the Celestial Bread vnto vs, being no lesse then from heauen to the earth, an im­mense distance; shewing yet a greater distance of natures, in that this Bread consists of the Diuine and human nature, which are infinitly distant one from the other, togeather with the distance of merits; because no merits had euer deserued, that for our sakes GOD should become Mā; Which bread it seemed she likewise made her self, so signifyed by that Wo­man in the Ghospel, who mingled togeather the three hād-fuls of meale, as heer are vnited the soule, the bodie, and the Diuinitie itself. O glorious Baker of so heauenline bread! O Diuine bread so mysterious­ly made! And most rich and precious Ship, that con­ueighed the same to vs from parts so remote!

Lastly, as the Ship vseth the Winds only to sayle with, & the Galley passes not to & fro without the help of oares: So likewise between the blessed Virgin, [Page 253] and the rest of Saints, this difference is; that they, as Galleyes, performe the nauigation of this life, with the strength of the oares, as it were, against the wind and tyde of carnal difficulties, and tra­uel with infinit encounters of worldlie assaults, vnto their heauenlie Countrie. But the blessed Virgin with the gentle gale of the Holie-Ghost, and the most sweet push thereof, was conueighed thither. And as the Ship is driuen with twelue sorts of seueral winds; the bles­sed Virgin like a prosperous Ship, with the twelue fruits of the Holie-Ghost, which S. Paul reckons vp, as with so manie fauourable winds, without rebellion or impugnation of sinne, or anie Remora, to stop her course, was sweetly wafted to the hauen of the Cele­stial Countrie.

THE EMBLEME.

[figure]

THE POESIE.

A Iewish Rabby sayes, the Angels fed
On Manna; But an other,
The Pause.
better read,
Affirmes' twas Light condens'd (& so made meat.
For men, (which shin'd before God's glorious seat,
As food of Angels. True; for one of three,
The Second Person of the Trinitie
Descends, & sayes, He is the liuing bread,
He was the light whereon the Angels fed:
Which, when the Holie-Ghost o'er cast his shade
Was first condends'd, when Flesh the Word was made
In Maries womb, wherewith our Soules are fed.
She is the Ship, that brought from farre her bread.

THE THEORIES.

COntemplate first,The Contem­plation. Reg 3. that as Ships of Salo­mon, as we read of in the book of Kings, brought most precious gold from Ophir, to adorne the Temple he had built to the Maiestie of GOD; So our mystical Ship, brought forth our Lord, the finest gold; not from Ophir truly, but from the most precious Mines of Heauē; with whose merits, as the daughters of Hierusalem, deckt their heads in memorie of Salomon's yealow hayre and Crowne: So the Catholick Church is most gloriously enriched, honoured, and delighted, by our second Salomon's glorious merits, through whose valew and inestimable price, great sūmes of debts are defray­ed; with whose admirable vertue, as with a most present antidote, are the sick and infirme cured, and the harts of the faythful cōforted; & finally through his meruelous luster and bright splendour, the Tem­ple of the Church incredibly shineth.

Consider then, that wheras other Ships are subiect to infinit dangers in the Seas, being tossed with tēpests [Page 255] and oftentimes cast away and swallowed vp in the waues, or dasht against the Rocks; for Ecclesiasticus sayth:Ec. 43. Who trauel on the seas, do recount their perils: either tyrannized by the winds, or falling into the hands of Pirats or running on the Sirtes or Scylla, and falling sometimes into the gulf of Charibdis, & lastly allured through the Sirens songs, to their owne destruction: Yet this Ship of our Ladie heer, while of the one side, the stormes of Original sinne had no power vpō her, so as she felt not the least internal rebellion of the bodie or mind, against the rectitude of Reason; and of the other was inuincibly through the Diuine assi­stance preserued against the assaults of the ghostlie Enemie: So as neither the Syrtes or Scylla of riches, nor the Charibdis of worldlie honour, nor the Pirats of Concupiscence, nor the Sirens of eternal delights, could stopp or hinder her, in the fayre nauigation, she made vnto the heauenlie Countrie.

Ponder lastly, that as heretofore in the vniuersal Deluge & floud of Noë, in that general inundation of the wrath & furie of GOD, was no mā saued or anie li­uing creature besides, except such only, as fled to the Arck of Noë, built in effect as a goodlie & statelie Ship: So no sinner escapes the indignation of GOD, but such as hye thēselues & fly vnto the Virgin-Mother for re­fuge, according to that of S. Bernard. ‘If thou darestnot approach to the Maiestie of GOD, least thou melt as wax before the fire; go to the Mother of Mercie, & shew her thy wounds, & she for thee wil shew her breast & paps, & the Sonne to the Father his side & woūds. The Father wil not deny the Sonne requesting; the Sonne wil not, deny the Mother crauing; the Mother wil not deny the sinner weeping. My children, why feare you to go to Marie? she is not austere, she is not bitter, but milke & honie is vnder her tōgue. This is the Ladder [Page 256] and honie is vnder her tongue. This is the Ladder of sinners, this my great confidence, this the whole reason of my hope. And what meruel? For can the Sonne repel the Mother? or be repelled of the Mother? Neither one, nor other. Let not therefore humane frailtie feare to approach vnto her; For she is wholy sweet, and sweetnes itself.’

THE APOSTROPHE.

O Thou [...]al and goodlie Arck,The Collo­quie. thou valiant Woman, valiant by excellence, more faire then Rachel, more gracious then Hester, more pleasing then Sara, more gentle and generous then Iudith, more sweet and chast then Abiseig the Sunamite, more officious and prudent then Abigail, more magnanimous then Debora, more illumined then Marie the Sister of Moyses. Thou who hast found grace before the eyes of GOD, work with thy prayers most dear Ladie, O my most noble Princesse, that I may alwayes find grace before thy Sonne. Thou who through thy Sonne hast broken the head of the Serpent; crush likewise through thy holie prayers his head vnder thy Seruants feet. Thou Ship of the great GOD, who from those counries so farre remote hast brought to vs the bread of Para­dise, true GOD in flesh Grant, I beseech thee, I may be fed with the bread of grace, of life, and wisdome; and that receauing the sacred bread of Angels, which is the precious Bodie of sweet IESVS thy Sonne, I may euen suck in the fountain itself, the most sweet pleasures, and the most pleasing sweetnesses of the Diuinitie, and be wholy inebriated with the torrent of Diuine consolations.

THE CONCLVSION TO HIS PROPER GENIVS.

NOW heer, my Genius, shalt thou dismisse thy Reader, with his Ship ful fraught with the prayses of the sacred Parthenes; and shutting vp thyself in this Parthenian Para­dice, walk in it vp and downe by thyself alone, without eye or ar­biter, to witnes the secret aspira­tions of thy hart; while contemplating with thyself, this great rich Magazin of the treasures of Nature, enclosed in this spacious and ample GARDEN of our SACRED PARTHENES, thou enter into thyself a while, gathering the fruits and flowers, at least of good de­sires, from the obiects themselues. Not be a whit dis­mayd, though they put thee to the blush, to be taught thy dutie so, from irrational and insensible things; but yeald and submit thy hart, to learne of each creature, how to serue the common Creatour of vs al. And as thou walkest vp and downe, taking a view of those curious knots of euer-flourishing and green hearbs, say this vnto thyself: When shal I order and compose my greener and inordinat affections in so faire and goodlie a decorum, and so sweet propor­tion? Walking in the Allyes, say: Lord, conduct me by the streight and readie way; and shew me thy kingdome. Noting the neatnes of those walkes, how trim and smooth they are, say: When shal it be, I be so curious, to purge and take away the impurities from my hart? The great diuersitie of flowers, wil present [Page 258] to thee, the great multiplicitie and wel-nigh infinitie of thy thoughts, as various as numerous, & al as trā ­sitorie as they. If thou seest a swarme of Emōts at thy feet, charged and loaden al with graynes of corne, and carrying them with toyle, vnto their litle Gray­neries, one groaning with his load, another newly discharged therof, most lightly and nimbly running for another, say vnto thyself: Oh slothful wretch, looke on these people heer, how they labour to mayntaine that paltrie litle carkas of theirs, of smal continuance; and thou to mayntaine thy soule, in good estate, so created for Eternitie, art so litle labo­rious, and industrious. When thou beholdst the trees, ful loaden with their fruits, so faine to be shored vp beneath; remember the menace of fire, the Sauiour made against the barren tree. When thou seest the plants, to be watered so, against the scor ching of the Sun, thinke and say inwardly in thyself: When shal, we with our teares appease the auenging Wrath of the Diuine Iustice? The faire and beautiful Pansyes, but without al sent or odour, wil tel thee, of the vn­profitable agitations of thy soule; the Tyme, the bitternes of displeasures; the Poppie, that lulles the soule a-sleep, wil admonish thee of the sweet exta­sies and rauishments of heauenlie Contemplation, thou neglectest so much; the Rubarb, or hearb called Patience, wil put thee in mind of that Vertue, which giues it the name; the Balme, of a good and faire reputation. Nor stay thou heer, but runne to resalute the proper and peculiar Familie likewise the ge­nuine Symbols of the Sacred Parthenes, so mentioned aboue; and note the documents they wil yeald thee, for thine owne behoof; and then take thy leaue of al. The priuate Garden wil teach thee to keep thy [Page 259] vertues close, if thou hast anie; and not very easily to loose their odour, through a voluntarie publi­shing the same to others. Saluting the Rose, enuiro­ned with thorns, think, there is no contentment to be found, without displeasures. Beholding the Lillie among bryars, imagin Chastitie is so conserued amid austerities. The Violet wil figure thee a low and humble esteeme of thyself; which yet is a fra­grant and delicious flower. The Heliotropion, which hath alwayes its look to the Sun-wards, and fol­lowes it by day, and closes vp agayne with the night, wil put thee in conceipt of the true Sun of Iustice indeed thou oughtst to follow, and should be the whole obiect of thy soule. The Deaw, that falles from Heauen, wil remember thee of the heauenlie graces, that were shed and distilled from Heauen, by the coming of the Holie-Ghost in forme of fierie tongues. The busie and industrious Bee, which bounds and rebounds so aloft in the ayre as she flyes, wil cal to thy mind, those words of thy great Maister: Work, and negotiate while tune lasts. The Heauens, wil attract thy thoughts, to heauenlie things; the Rain-bow, moue thee to pardon iniu­ries, and immediatly to reconcile thee, to thine enemies. The Moon wil tax thee of inconstancie, like to hers; the Starre, rayse vp thy thoughts to a vertuous emulation, to become a Starre indeed, in the heauenlie Hierarchie, as it is so fixed in the celestial Firmament. The Oliue wil warne thee, to be alwayes green in thy good purposes, and fruitful in good works. The Nightingal, wil let thee heare a taste or relish, as it were, of the heauenlie Quiers, and sacred Alleluya's, sung by the Angels in Heauen. The [Page 260] Palme, wil stirre thee to Martyrdome; at least, to for­titude in difficult atchieuements. The House, wil cal the heauenlie mansions and Tabernacles into thy thoughts, which are permanent for euer. The Hen, wil cause thee to fly, to the heauenlie protection. The Pearl, wil inuite thee to sel al thou hast, to purchase that of the Heauenlie Kingdome. The Doue, wil retire thee, and draw thee into solitude. The Fountain, wil allure thee, to drinck of the waters, which the Sauiour mentioned, that spring to eternal life. The Mount, wil cal thee to a higher degree of perfection; the Sea, re­present to thee an Ocean of grace, to launch forth thy Soule, as a webrigd Ship, into that Mayne, to ar­riue at last into the Hauen of Eternal Happines; and that especially through the steering of our Sacred Parthenes,

Cui Laus & gloria in secula, Amen.

THE EPILOGVE TO THE PARTHENIANS

THus, Gentle Parthenians, you haue viewed, reflected, reviewed, surueyed, paused on, and contemplated the Mysterious and delicious GARDEN of our Sacred PAR­THENES; and after al implored and im­portuned your soueraigne Ladie-Mistris, and mine, vnder so manie apt and rich Symbols. So graciously she hath daigned, to condescend, for our pleasure and deuotion, as it were, to deliciate with vs in these irrational Species of things, made al but to expresse (you would think) her prayses, and al the peculiar Deuotes of hers, our deare Companions, in her ser­uice. Where you must note, that these are but they only, which wayte and attend vpon her, in her GAR­DEN; and that she hath infinit other Clients and Deuotes besides, in created things, as forward al, to offer vp themselues, in her seruice; I meane, in this Symbolical Theologie, to giue forth Elogies, En­comiums, and Panegyricks, to her sacred prayse. For testimonie wherof, you might obserue, the GARDEN being shut vp, two noble creatures likewise, though too late, to be admitted with the rest, to come in with their Deuises and Emblemes, to expresse no lesse in her honour, then the rest had done. But the GARDEN, as I sayd, was shut already, nor would our leasure afford vs more, then to receaue their Es­cuchions only, & to hang them thus on the Postern, as you see,

THE PHOENIX.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE MORALS.

‘NEC SIMILIS VISA, NEC SECVNDA.’

ONE Cittie holds not two Lisanders, The Motto. the ancient Prouerb sayth; nor the Heauens two Suns, say I; which neuer appeare in shew only without a Prodigie. Hercules had thought, he had set a spel to the world, when he set vp his Pillar so in the then vtmost Spanish Gades, and called it his Non plus vltra. But alas! Since that, hath a new whole world been discouered, far beyond it. One Painter with his art deceaued the birds, with a [Page 263] bunch of grapes, and he thought verily he had done a great peece of matter; when comes me another streight, and with his art likewise, deludes the verie Painter himself in his owne art. One drawes me a line, which he held to be indiuisible; comes me ano­ther with a lighter touch, and cuts that line asunder with another line. It is often seen, the Scholler goes beyond the Maister, Plato excelled his Maister, Aristo­tle his, and so haue infinit others; the reason yealds that Reuerēd Father Southwel in his Spiritual Poems.

Deuise of man, in working hath no end;
What thought can think another thought can mend?

GOD, when he framed the world, might as wel haue built manie more, and happely a second better then the first, & so a third, and so a fourth, because al are in the compas of his Omnipotencie; but so can not mā do in his works; for stil there wil be found an vtmost tearme, beyond the which he can not passe; because he is finit. The Giants in their big conceipts, had framed in their imagination a Stayre-case vp to Hea­uen, by setting Pelion vpon Ossa's back; but when they had brought it to a certain pitch, they could reare their building no whit higher, but downe comes Os­sa much sooner then he got vp; and al was but a Cas­tle in the ayre, which hangs there stil, the founda­tion being shrunck away. Such are the works of Mortals; and so are they limited in al they do. GOD only is he, who is boundles in al. Yet when he fra­med the Incomparable Virgin Marie, and chose her to be his Mother, he made her so incomparable a Phāenix, not only to al, that euer were, or shal be, but euen to such, as he intended or was able to frame; since being not able to be greater then he is himself, he could not make her to be a greater Mother then she is, *making her his owne Mother; & therefore wel may besayd: NEC SIMILIS VISA NEC SECVNDA.

THE CHARACTER.

THE Phenix, is the Cesar of birds,The Inpresa. and sole Dictatour amongst them, which ad­mits no Pompey in his kind: & therefore Nature hath framed but one at once, to take away the cause of ciuil iarres. He is the miracle of Nature, and a prime maister­peece of her workmanship; wherin she seemes, con­trarie to her custome, to shew some art. He is euen the honour of Arabia Felix, or the felicitie of that Re­gion; the of-spring of the Sun, that might wel haue been his father, if either two Suns had been possible, or two Phenixes at once. He is a Treasurer, or rather an Vsurer of spices, with the interest of his life. He is the Heyre apparant to himself, and feares no other's clayme to that nature; bred of ashes, and, as we al, to ashes must returne againe; and yet immor­tal, while he dyes not, but renewes rather; and not as the Hawke, which mewes his feathers only, but him­self. The Tomb is his cradle, the Fire his midwif, himself the Damme, the Sun his Sire. There being but one at once, they are framed without a pattern, and yet so like, as they are taken for the same. He can speake much of others Ancesters, but nothing of his owne. He is the Alpha and Omega of his kind, the first and last, because alwayes the same. Being solitarie, he is apt to scruples, but puts them ouer through the innocencie of his life; for though by nature he be a Prince, yet dares he not say We, because there is no more then he. If he steale, they are but spices, wher­of he makes no conscience, because for his Altar of Holocausts; nor hath anie Casuist with him, to put that scrupule into his head. And being so acces­sarie [Page 265] to his owne death, he makes as litle scruple of that also, as done through the inspiration of Nature, as he calles it, to maintaine his House, and to rayse his seed. Were he not wel knowne otherwise to the Arabians, to be a bird, by manie faire demonstrations, it had been a wonder, that people had not chosen him for a GOD. But GOD, it seemes, would not per­mit it, as a special fauour to this singular and mira­culous Bird. Like the Camelion, he liues by the ayre; and no maruel, the spirit of birds should liue of its proper Element, the ayre being the Elemēt of birds, as the waters of the fish. The Fire he makes his Pur­gatorie in this world; and that so efficaciously, as he becomes renewed to an other life, or like the Snake, which changing his coat only, is stil the same, but yet more fresh. Whereby obseruing the precept, he puts off the old man, to be take him self to a new being, in newnes of life.

[Page 266]

[figure]
BEhold, how Death aymes with his mortal dart,
And wounds a Phaenix with a twin-like hart.
These are the harts of Iesus and his Mother
So linkt in one, that one without the other
Is not entire. They (sure) each others smart
Must needs sustaine, though two, yet as one hart.
One Virgin-Mother, Phenix of her kind,
And we her Sonne without a father find.
The Sonne's and Mothers paines in one are mixt.
His side, a Launce, her soule a Sword transfixt.
Two harts in one, one Ph [...]nix loue contriues.
One wound in two, and two in one reuiues.

THE SWAN.

THE DEVISE.

[figure]

THE MORALS.

‘AD VADA CONCINENS ELISII’

ARistotle sayth, that harmonie and Mu­srck, is a worthie, great, and Diuine thing, whose bodie is composed of parts discordant in thēselues,The Mot [...]. & yet accordant one with the other; which entring into the bodie by the eare with I know not what diuinitie as it were, rauisheth the soule. The World therefore is much obliged to the first Inuentour of Musick, being the sweet char­me of al the annoyes of our pittiful mortalitie. For euen they, who are plunged in the abysse of al euils, at the least touch of sweet Musick, do euen swim, & [Page 268] vault like Dolphins (as Poets say) at the feet of that Minstrel Orion. What grief or trouble is so great, that reuiues not, when a gentle Treble mounts vpto hēauen, and there soaring and houering aloft, as on the wing, comes like a Falcon at last to seize vpon the Base, as a prey, euen to the losse of breath & sen­se of hearing? or when the Base after a long pursuit of the Treble, and not able to reach it as it would, as in a rage in despite with itself, seemes to precipitate and plunge itself euen to the Center of the earth? Who would not wonder, to see the gentle Orpheus ha­ue such power vpon sauage beasts, to make them to forget their prey and chase, to feed and fatten them­selues with such mincing diuisiōs, & by the eare feed on those Diuine viands? who, when he made his Harp to speak, and his fingers to runne so fast, mar­rying his Angelical voyce to the miracle of his strings, he made euen the people of the Seas to cast themselues in sholes vpon the Strond, to listen to him; and the Sirens to come forth and dance vpon the green banck-side, al diaperd with flowers; the Beares and Lions to quit the Forrests, running in troupes to lye at the feet of their sweet Tyrant. But away with these fables now, and cast we our eyes & eares vpon that Diuine Harp, fallen from Heauen to the earth, into the hands of Dauid, who causing his strings to speake and chant forth his Heauenlie and Diuine Psalmes, so did exorcise and dispel the Diuel from his Hold. This Musick therefore is an essay, as it were, and tast of Paradise itself, while in Heauen they seeme to do nothing but sing the greatnes & maruels of GOD, in two Quiers, of the Angels of the one side, & of the blessed Saints of the other. But then, what musick made the white delightful Swā, sitting on the [Page 269] Bancks, not of Po, Meander, or Euridanus, but on the brinck of Death? Not of Cocitus, Stix, or fierie Flegiton, but of the playnes of Elizeum, that is, by the shores of Paradice; when, like the Swan, feeling her purest bloud to tickle her hart for ioy of her approaching passage out of this world, we may piously coniecture she tuned forth her Diuine Canti [...]le anew for a Farwel to the world and a last Adieu; and therefore wor­thily is sayd: AD VADA CONCINENS ELIZEI.

THE CHARACTER.

THE sweet delightful Swan is that deli­cious Siren of the Brook;The Impresa the liuing Ghost, that walks and hants those humid playnes, as if confined to her Eliseum there. She is much taken with the pleasant banck of the Continent, and spends much time therin, but yet wil not trust it with her houshold, nor there be brought to bed, but rather hires some Iland for the purpose; & the rent she payes, is some part of her children. She likes to haue her walks and gardens there, for her delights; but her mansion-house, for more securitie, wil she haue wel gyrt with an ample and spacious Moat. It is strange to see, how solitarie she liues; and yet otherwise, you would think her, though she see­mes highly to affect that life, made for Citties and the Court; her clothing al, saue her Spanish-leather buskins, from top to toe, of the richest Mineuers; her gate, statelie and Maiestical; her garb and fashion, graue, yet not affected, or sprung from an ouer-weening of herself. She rather pitties the companie of men, and their good [Page 270] fellowships, as feastings, bancketings, and pastimes, then hates them for it, and so neglects them rather, with a demisse eye, then with a brow contracted, or a lookmore Cinick, to appeare Diogenes, or a Tymō, a ha­ter of men, rather then the deboishments of their mān­ers. As she is solitarie and melancholie by nature, she is very Musical, as likely are al such; but chiefly doats she on the wind-instruments, and is neuer seen without her Howboy; wherewith, when she list, wil she enchant the verie Sirens themselues with the melodie she makes; but then especially, when fee­ling the chimes of her passage out of this world to sound within her, as a presage of her death to others, she wil ring forth such a peale of delicious and chro­matick straines mixt togeather, as would moue de­uotion in the hearers rather, then compassion, while they wil iudge streight, she had a pure soule of her owne. She is a right Hermitesse; and hath her sallets proper to herself alone; and as she loues them wel, she wil feed of no man's picking, but her owne. Other whiles she liues in state, and keeps her kitchin, as the manner is in some places, in the Cellars, and lower roomes; which by reason of the moystnes of those places, are alwayes vnder waters; but she likes them neuer the worse for that, but rather so much the better; for so she feeds on her sallets very fresh, but new-gathered. She is further much delighted, to take her pleasure on the waters, for her meer dis­port and recreation; and wil haue no other boat, then her owne Barge, nor other oares then her owne; and being so good a Swimmer, makes a pastime of it, to tilt her boat quite ouer head and eares. She is very hale, and hath a long breath, and wil keep her head vnder water, longer then any Moor shal doe, that hunts for pearls.

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[figure]
WHEN milde Fauonius breathes, with warbling throat
The milk-white Swan chants with a sweeter note;
But sweeter yet her Musick farre excels,
When death approches, which her tune fore-tels.
So th' holie Spirit breathing from aboue
Vpon the Virgin, r [...]ys'd with wings of loue,
Her heauenlie Muse vnto a higher straine
In her melodious Sonnet, But againe,
When gentle death drew neare, she high aspires
To tune an Antheme with the Angels Quires.
Thy Cygnets (mother Swan) on thee relye;
O make them white, that they may singing dye.
FINIS.

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