An alarum against vsurers Containing tryed experiences against worldly abuses. Wherein gentlemen may finde good counsells to confirme them, and pleasant histories to delight them: and euery thing so interlaced with varietie: as the curious may be satisfied with rarenesse, and the curteous with pleasure. Heereunto are annexed the delectable historie of Forbonius and Prisceria: with the lamentable complaint of truth ouer England. Written by Thomas Lodge, of Lincolnes Inne, Gentleman.

An alarum against vsurers Containing tryed experiences against worldly abuses. Wherein gentlemen may finde good counsells to confirme them, and pleasant histories to delight them: and euery thing so interlaced with varietie: as the curious may be satisfied with rarenesse, and the curteous with pleasure. Heereunto are annexed the delectable historie of Forbonius and Prisceria: with the lamentable complaint of truth ouer England. Written by Thomas Lodge, of Lincolnes Inne, Gentleman.

Table of contents

Title page

¶To The Right worshipfull, Sir Philip Sidney Knight, indued with all perfections of learning, and titles of Nobilitie: Thomas Lodge Gen. wisheth continuance of honour, and the benefits of happie Studie.

¶To The Right worshipfull, my cu• teous friends, the Gentlemen of the Innes of Court, Thomas Lodge of Lincolnes• Inne Gentleman, wisheth prosperous successe in their studies, and happie euent in their trauailes.

BARNABE RICH Gentleman Souldier, in praise of the Author.

¶IOHN IONES GENtleman, in praise of the AVTHOR.

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AN ALARVM against Vsurers.

¶THE DELECTABLE Historie of Forbonius and Prisceria.

TRVTHS COMplaint ouer England.

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AN Alarum against Vsurers. Containing tryed experiences against worldly abuses. WHEREIN GENTLEMEN may finde good counsells to confirme them and pleasant Histories to delight them: and euery thing so interlaced with varietie: as the curious may be satisfied with rarenesse, and [...] curteous with pleasure. HEEREUNTO AKE ANnexed the delectable historie of Forbonius and Prisceria: with the lamentable Complaint of Truth ouer England. Written by Thomas Lodge, of Lincolnes Inne, Gentleman.

O Vita! misere longa, foelice breuis.

¶Imprinted at London by T. Este, for Sampson Clarke, and are to be sold at his shop by Guyld Hall. 1584.

¶To The Right worshipfull, Sir Philip Sidney Knight, indued with all perfections of learning, and titles of Nobilitie: Thomas Lodge Gen. wisheth continuance of honour, and the benefits of happie Studie.

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IT is not (noble Gentleman) the titles of Honour that allureth me, nor the nobilitie of your Parents that induceth me, but the admiration of your vertues that perswadeth me, to publish my pore trauailes vnder your vndoubted protection. Whom I most humbly intreate, not onely in so iust a cause to protect me, but also in these Primordia of my studies, after the accustomed prudence of the Philosophers, to confirme with fauourable acceptaunce, and continuaunce as the equitie of the cause requireth. I haue set downe in these fewe lines in my opinion (Right Worshipfull) the image of a licentious Vsurer, and the collusions of diuelish incrochers, and herevnto was I led by two reasons: First, that the offender seeing his owne counterfaite in this Mirrour; might amend it, and those who are like by ouerlauish profusenesse, to become meate for their mouths, might be warned by this caueat to shunne the Scorpion ere she deuoureth.

[Page]May it please your Worshippe, to fauour my trauailes, and to accept my good will: who incouraged by the successe of this my firstlings will heereafter in most humble signe of humanitie continue the purpose I haue begunne, commending the cause and my seruice to your good liking: who no doubt compassed with incomperable vertues, will commend when you see occasion, & not condemne without a cause.

Your VVorships in all dutie to commaund, Thomas Lodge.

¶To The Right worshipfull, my cu [...] teous friends, the Gentlemen of the Innes of Court, Thomas Lodge of Lincolnes [...] Inne Gentleman, wisheth prosperous successe in their studies, and happie euent in their trauailes.

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CUrteous Gentlemen, let it not séeme straunge vnto you, that hée which hath long time slept in silence, now beginneth publikely to salute you, since no doubt, my reasons that induce me herevnto be such, as both you may allowe of them, since they be well meant, and account of them since they tend to your profit. I haue published héere of set purpose a tried experience of worldly abuses, describing héerein not onely those monsters which were banished Athens, I meane Usurers, but also such de [...]ouring caterpillers, who not onely haue fatted their fingers with many rich forfaitures, but also spread their venim among some priuate Gentlemen of your profession, which considered, I thought good in opening the wound▪ to preuent an vlcer, and by counselling before escape, forewarn before the mischiefe. Led then by these perswasions, I doubt not, but as I haue alwayes found you fauourable, so now you will not cease to be friendly, both in protecting of this iust cause, from vniust slander, and my person from that reproch, which, about two yeares since, an iniurious cauiller obiected against me: You that knowe me Gentlemen, can testifie that neyther my life hath bene so lewd, as y• my companie was edious, nor my behauiour so light, as that it shuld passe the limits of modestie: this notwithstanding a licentious [Page] Hipponax, neither regarding the asperitie of the lawes touching slaunderous Libellers, nor the offyring from whence I came, which is not contemptible, attemted, not only in publike & reprochfull terms to condemn me in his writings, but also so to slander me, as neither iustice shuld wink at so hainous an offēce, nor I pretermit a commodious reply. About thrée yeres ago one Stephen Gosson published a booke, intituled, The schoole of Abuse, in which hauing escaped in many & sundry cōclusions, I as the occasion thē fitted me, shapt him such an answere as beséemed his discourse, which by reason of the slendernes of y• subiect (because it was in defēce of plaies & play makers) y• godly & reuerent y• had to deale in the cause, misliking it, forbad y• publishing, notwithstanding he comming by a priuate vnperfect coppye, about two yeres since, made a reply, diuiding it into fiue sectiōs, & in his Epistle dedicatory, to y• right honorable, sir Frances Walsingham, he impugneth me with these reproches, y• I am become a vagarāt person, visited by y• heuy hand of God, lighter then libertie, & looser thē vanitie. At such time as I first came to y• sight héerof (iudge you gentlemen how hardly I could disgest it) I bethought my selfe to frame an answere, but considering y• the labour was but lost, I gaue way to my misfortune, contenting my selfe to wait y• opportunitie wherein I might, not according to the impertinacie of the iniurye, but as equitye might countenance mée, cast a raine ouer the vntamed curtailes chaps, & wiping out the suspition of this slander from the remebrance of those y• knew me, not counsell this iniurious Asinius to become more conformable in his reportes: and now Gentlemen hauing occasion to passe my trauailes in publike, I thought it not amisse somewhat to touch the slaunder, & prouing it to be most wicked & discommendable, leaue the rest to the discretion of those in authoritie, who if the Gentleman had not plaid bo péep thus long, would haue taught him to haue counted his cards a little better: and now Stephen Gosson [Page] let me but familiarly reason with thée thus▪ Thinkest thou y• in handling a good cause it is requisite to induce a fals propositiō, although thou wilt say it is a part of Rethorike to argue A Persona, yet is it a practise of small honestie to conclude without occasion: if thy cause wer good, I doubt not but in so large & ample a discourse as thou hadst to handle, thou mightest had left the honor of a gentleman inuiolate. But thy base degrée, subiect to seruile attempts, measureth all things according to cauelling capacitie, thinking because nature hath bestowed vpō thee a plausible discourse, thou maist in thy swéet termes present the sowrest & falsest reports y• canst imagine: but it may be, y• as it fortuned to y• noble man of Italy, it now fareth wt me, who as Petarch reported, giuē greatly to y• intertainmēt of strangers, & pleasure of the chase, respected not the braue & gorgious garments of a courtier, but delighted in such clothing as seemed y• place where he soiourned, this noble gentleman returning on a time frō his game, found all his house furnished with strangers, on whō bestowing his accustomed welcome, he bent himself to y• ouerseeing of his domestical preparatiō, & cōming to y• stable among the hors kéepers of his new come guests, & reprehending one of th [...] for faulting in his office, y• felow impatient of reproofe, & measuring y• gentleman by his plaine coat, stroke him on the fa [...]e, & turned him out of y• stable, but afterward attending on his master, & perceiuing him whom he had stroken to be y• Lord of y• house, he humbly craued pardō: y• gentleman as patient as pleasant, not only forgaue him ye escape, but pretely answered thus, I blame not thée good fellow for thy outrage, but this companion, pointing to his coate, which hath made thée mistake my person. So at this instant estéeme I M. Gosson hath dealt with me, who not mesuring me by my birth, but by ye subiect I hādled like Will Summer striking him y• stood next him, hath vpbraided me in person, whē he had no quarrell, but to my cause, & therein pleaded his owne indiscretiō, & loded me [Page] with intollerable iniurie. But if with Zoylus hée might kisse the gibet, or with Patacion hop headlesse, the world shoulde bee ridde of an iniurious slaunderer, and that tongue laboured in suppositions, might be nailed vp as Tullies was for his Philipicall declamations. But good Stephen, in like sorte will I deale with thée, as Phillip of Macedon with Nicanor, who not respecting the maiestie of the king, but giuing himselfe ouer to the petulancie of his tongue vainly inueighed against him, whom notwithstanding Philip so cunningly handeled, that not onely he ceased the rumor of his report, but also made him as lauish in commending, as once he was profuse in discommending: his attempt was thus performed, he séeing Nicanor sorely pressed with pouerty, reléeued him to his content. Wherevpon altering his coppie, and breaking out into singular commendation of Philip, the king concluded thus: Loe, curtesie can make of bad good, and of Nicanor an enimie, Nicanor a friend. Whose actions my reprouer, I will now fit to thée, who hauing slaundered me without cause, I will no otherwise reuenge it, but by this meanes, that now in publike I confesse thou hast a good pen, and if thou kéepe thy Methode in discourse, and leaue thy slandering without cause, there is no doubt but thou shalt bée commended for thy coppie, and praised for thy stile. And thus desiring thée to measure thy reportes with iustice, and you good Gentlemen to answere in my behalfe if you heare me reproched. I leaue you to your pleasures, and for my selfe I will studie your profit.

Your louing friend, Thomas Lodge.

BARNABE RICH Gentleman Souldier, in praise of the Author.

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IF that which warnes the young beware of vice,

And schooles the olde to shunne vnlawfull gaine,

If pleasant stile and method may suffice,

I thinke thy trauaile merits thanks for paine,

My simple doome is thus in tearmes as plaine:

That both the subiect and thy stile is good,

Thou needs not feare the scoffes of M [...]mus brood.

If thus it be, good Lodge continue still,

Thou needst not feare Goose sonne or Ganders hisse,

Whose rude reportes past from a slaundrous quill,

Will be determind but in reading this,

Of whom the wiser sort will thinke amis,

To slaunder him whose birth and life is such,

As [...]alse report his fame can neuer tuch.

¶IOHN IONES GENtleman, in praise of the AVTHOR.

THough not my praise, yet let my wish preuaile,

Who so thou be that list to read this booke,

I neuer yet by flatterie did assaile,

To count that good that most did please my looke.

[Page]But alwaies wisht my friends such stile to vse,

As wise might like, though foolish would refuse.

In opening vice my friend who spends his time,

May count by priuate good no profit lost,

What errors scape in young and lustie prime,

Experience (badge of truth) may quickly cost.

Who sets the marke, that makes men shunne the sand,

Deserues good words, his proofes for profit stand.

For common good to crosse a few mens vaines,

Who like to Midas would that all were golde,

I count not misse, since there vnlawfull gaines

Makes some men sink, whom birth might well vphold.

I know the sore, the scarre is seene to plaine,

A blessed state where no such wils doo raine.

In briefe, I praise this booke for pretie stile,

For pithie matter, Gentle be thou iudge,

O would my wish some fancies might beguile,

Then faire reuenewes should not fit a snudge.

A world to see how Asses daunce in golde,

By wanton wils, when Gentles starue for colde.

Whose errors if it please succeeding age,

To see with sighs, and shun with sad aduice,

Let him beholde this booke, within whose page,

Experience leaues her chiefest proofes of price,

And thanke the youth that suffered all these toiles,

To warne thee shun that rocke which many spoiles.

FINIS.

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GEntlemen, since the presse cannot passe without escape, and some things are so mistaken, as without co [...]rrection they will be very grose. May it please you when you read to correct, especially, such principall errours as these that followe.

Folio. 30. b. Line. 4. For woed, Read wonne.

Folio. eod. Line. 8. For colde, Read cloudes.

Folio. eod. Line. 15. For showde, Read shoard.

Folio. eod. Line. 30. For concluding. Read concluded.

Foli. 31. a. Lin. 34. For presents a secrets méete, Read wth séemly secret gréete.

For the rest I referre them to your discretion, who can distnguish coulours, and either better, or fit words to your fantasies.

Your friend: Thomas Lodge.

AN ALARVM against Vsurers.

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NO maruell though the wise man accompted all things vnder the sun vain, since the chéefest creatures be mortall: and no wonder though the world runne at randon, since iniquitie in these later dayes hath the vpper hand. The alteration of states if they be look into, and the ouerthrow of houses, if they be but easely laid in open viewe, what eye would not shed teares to sée things so transitorie? and what wisedome woulde not indeauour to dissolue the inconuenience?

There is a state within this our Common wealth, which though it necessarily stand as a piller of defence in this royall Realme, yet such are the abuses that are growen in it, that not onely the name is become odious by somes errour, but also if the thing be not narrowly lookt into, the whole lande by that meanes will grow into great inconuenience: I meane the state of Merchants, who though to publyke commoditie they bring in store of wealth from forein Nations, yet such are their domesticall practises, that not only they inrich themselues mightelye by others misfortunes, but also eate our English Gentrie out of house and hame. The generall facultie in it selfe, is both auncient and lawdable, the professours honest and vertuous, their actions full of daunger, and therefore worthy gaine, and so necessarye [Page] this sorte of men be, as no well gouerned stat [...] may be without them.

But as among a trée of fruite there bée some withered fallings, and as among wholesome hearbes there growes some bitter Colloquintida: so it cannot be, but among such a number of Marchaunts, there shoulde bee some, that degenerate from the true name and nature of Marchaunts. Of these men I write, and of none other, my inuectiue is priuate, I will not write generall: and were it not I respected the publyque commoditie more then my priuate prayse, this matter shoulde haue slepte in hugger mugger. Of these vngracious men I write, who hauing nothing of themselues, yet greedelye graspe all things into their owne handes.

These be they that finde out collusions of Statutes, and compasse lande with commoditie, these bée the boulsterers of vngracious pettie Brokers: and by these men (the more is the pittie) the prisons are replenished with young Gentlemen: These bee they, that make the Father carefull, the mother sorowfull, the Sonne desperate: These bée they that make crooked straight, and straight crooked, that can close with a young youth, while they cousen him, and féede his humoures, till they frée him of his Farmes. In briefe, such they bée that glose most fayre then, when they imagine the worst, and vnlesse they bee quicklye knowen, they easelye will make bare some of the best of our young Heires that are not yet stayed, whome zealouslye I be [...]eech to ouer-looke this my writing: for what is sette downe héere, eyther as an eye witnesse I will auowe, or informed euen by those Gentlemen, who haue swallowed the Gudgen, and haue bene intangeled in the hooke, I haue approouedlye sette downe.

[Page]Such bée those sorte of men, that their beginning is of naught, sette by the deuotion of some honest Marchauntes, of whome taking vp their refuse commoditie, they imploye it to this vngodly and vnhonest purpose.

They finde out (according to theyr owne vayne) some olde soaking vndermininig Solicitour, whom they both furnish with money and expence, to sette him foorth and gette him more creditte: This good fellowe must haunte Ordinaryes, canuasse vp and downe Powles, and as the Catte watcheth the praye of the Mouse, so dilygentlye intendes hee to the compassing of some young Nouice, whome by Fortune eyther hée findeth in melancholyke passions at the Ordinarye, or at pennilesse deuotion in Powles, or perhappes is brought acquaynted with him by some of his owne brotherhoode. Him he handeleth in these or such lyke tearmes, both nothing place and circumstaunce.

GEntleman, why bée you so melancholye? Howe falleth it out, that you are not more lyghtsome? Your young yeares mée thinkes shoulde loathe such sollome aspectes. I maye not anye waye imagine a cause why you shoulde bee pensiue: you haue good Parents, you want no friendes, and more, you haue lyuelyhoodes, which considered, trulye you committe meere follye to bée so meruaylouslye sadde and wonderfullye sorrowfull, where you haue no occasion.

If you want money, you haue creditte, (a gift which who so euer inioyeth nowe a dayes, hee is able to compasse anye thing: and for that I see so good a nature in you, (if proferred seruice stinke not) I will verye willynglye (if so bée you will open [Page] your estate to me) further you in what I may, and perhaps you shall finde your selfe fortunate, in falling into my companie.

The young Gentleman, vnacquainted with such like discourses, counting all golde that glysters, and him a faithfull frend that hath a flattering tongue, opens all his minde to this subtill vnderminer, who so wringeth him at last, that there is no secrete corner in the poore Gentlemans heart, but he knoweth it: after that, framing his behauiour to the nature of the youth, if he be sad, sober: if youthly, riotous: if lasciuious, wanton: he laboureth so much, that at last the birde is caught in the pit-fall, and perceiuing the vaine of the youth, he promiseth him some reliefe by his meanes: the Gentleman thinking he hath God almightie by the héele, holdes the Diuell by the toe, and by this meanes, is brought to vtter wracke and ruine. The Broker furnished of his purpose, hauing learned the Gentlemans name, lodging, want, & welth: & finding all things correspondent to his purpose, hies him to his setter vp, who reioyceth greatly at his good happe, and rewards this wicked seducer with a péece of gold. To be briefe, at first issue on the Gentlemans bonde, this broking knaue receiues fortie or fiftie poundes of course commoditie, making him beleeue, that by other meanes monie maye not be had, and swearing to him, that there will be great losse, and that he could wish the Gentleman would rather refuse then take. But the youth not esteeming the losse, so hee supplye his lacke, sets him forwarde, and giues the willing Iade the spurre, who finding all things meate in the mouth, makes sale of this Marchaundize to some one of his greatest fraternitie, and if it be fortie, the youth hath a good peniworth if in ready money he receiue twentie pound, and yet the money repayable at thrée moneths ende. The Broker in this matter, getteth double fée of the Gentleman, [Page] treble gaine in the sale of the commoditie, and more, a thousand thankes of this diuellish Usurer. Truly Gentlemen, it is wonderfull to conceiue, (yet are there some of you can tell if I lie) how this Sicophant that helpt our youth to get, now learneth him to spend: What saith he? my young master, what make you with this olde Satten doublet? it is soilde, it is vnfit for a Gentlemans wearing, apparell your selfe as you shoulde bée, and ere fewe dayes passe, I will acquaint you with as braue a dame a friend of mine, as euer you knew. Oh how sweete a face hath she, and thus dilating it with rethoricall praises, to make the Gentleman more passionate, it falleth out that the mand Fawlcon stoops to lure, and all things are fulfilled according to his Brokers direction. Promises are kept on both partes, and my youth is brought acquainted with Mustres Minxe: this harlot is an old beaten dogge, and a maintainer of the brothell house brotherhoode, a stale for young nouises, and a limme of Sathan himselfe, whose behauiours and iestures are such, as the world cannot imagine better, if the Gentleman wéepe, she wil waile: if he sorrow, she will sigh: if he be merrie, she will not be modest. To conclude, her lesson is so taught her, as she can recken without booke: Lorde what riotousnesse passeth in apparell, what lauishnesse in banketting, what loosenesse in liuing, and in verie short space, our youth which was fligge, is nowe at leake, his purse [...]is emptie, and his mistres begins to lowre, which he perceiuing, & earnestly bent to continue his credit with his Curtisan, comes to his vngratious Broker, whom with faire tearmes he desireth, and with humble suites more earnestlye beséecheth to further his credite in what hée may. Who séeing which way the Hare windeth, begins to blame him of his liberalitie, and yet only is the cause of his spending, and after a few priuie nippes, bearing shew of good meaning, but yet indéed his way is to trie [Page] conclusions, hée hasteth to the principall his good maste [...] Merchant, whom he findeth altogether prompt & redy at a becke, to send abroad his refuse commoditye for crackt angels: what conclusiō is betwéene thē both may easily be imagined, but y• end is this, y• Broker returns to my solitarie youth, & recountes vnto him, first to make him feareful, how many places he hath ben at, when he hath not visited one, how many he hath desired, yet how few are redie to plesure, at last he breketh out, & telleth him y• whole, assuring him y• he is to think wel of his master scrape-penie y• vsurer, who is willing in hope of his wel dooing to let him haue once more of his incōmodious cō modity, vpon resonable assurāce. To be briefe, y• bargain is quickly beaten on, y• broker laieth y• losse, y• gentlemā es [...]eemeth not so his néed be serued, y• Merchaunt laughs at his folly in his sléeue, & to conclude, y• bonds are deliuered, ye cursed cōmoditie receiued,& at this second mart, how spéeds our yoncker think you, perhaps of 50. pounds in ware, he receiueth 30. pounds in ready money, & yet y• money repayable at three months end. O incredible & iniurious dealings, O more then Iudaicall cousonage, truely Gentlemen this that I write is true, I my selfe knowe the paymaster, naie more, I my selfe know certainly, that by name I can recken among you some, that haue ben bitten, who left good portiōs by their parents, & faire landes by their auncestors, are desolate now, not hauing friends to reléeue them, or money to affray their charges. A miserable and wretched state is this, full of inconuenience, when such eie sores are not seene in a cō mon weale, when such abuses are winked at, when such desolation is not perceiued, & wonderfull it is, y• among so many godly lawes, made for y• administration of iustice, ther be none found out: for these couetous malefactors, purchase armes now, possesse y• place of ancient progenitors, & men made rich by yoūg youths miss [...]idings, doe feast in y• halls of our riotous young spend thrifts. [Page] It will be answered, it is y• gentlemens owne folly, & I graunt it, yet of their folly who should beare the blame, truely the bier, who hauing experience to cousin, might haue also conscience to forbeare thē: nay among ye rabblemēt of such as we find to haue falne in their youth, how many experienced men find we at yeares of discretion? who hauing only y• name of gentrie left thē to promote them to honor, & finding no reléefe any way, are inforced either in forren coūtries to end their liues miserably or desperatly, some more vngratious, are a pray for y• gallous, choosing rather to die with infamie, then to liue to beg in miserie. But to leaue this to his place, & to returne frō whence we haue digressed: Our gentlemā hauing got new supplie, is pricked on to new sinne, & the minister of y• diuel seruing, at his elbow, perswades him to new change, for varietie saith he, is meruelously to be admitted of, especially in such causes, & withall bringes him to a new gamester a wittie worldling, who more cunningly can handle him thē y• first, & hath more shifts of descant for his plain song, (but this by y• way is to be noted, y• the broker hath his part of y• gaines with y• curtisan, & she cosins for them both,) this miniō so traineth our seduced youth in folly, as not only himselfe is at hir cōmand, but also his substance remaineth to her vse, this high prised cōmoditie is imploied to y• curtisans brauery, & she which makes him brutish in behauior, doth emty his replenished purse: thus y• eie of reson is closed vp by sensualitie, & the gifts of nature are diminished, by y• disordinate vsage of bestly venery. Spuplies are sought for euery way, by his wicked broker, to bring him to ruine, & to work his vtter confusiō. Thus, thus, alas, y• father before his eies, & in his elder yeres, beholdeth as in a mirror, y• desolation of his owne house, and hearing of the profusenesse of his vngratious sonne, calleth him home, rebuketh him of his error, and requesteth account of his money misspended: Hee (taught and instructed [Page] sufficiently to coulour his follie by his vngodly mistres, and cursed mis [...]eader) at his returne to his father, maketh shewe of all honestie, so that the olde man lead by naturall affection, is almost perswaded that y• truth is vntruth: yet remembring the priuie conueiaunce of his youthly yeares, & déeming thē incident to his young sonne, he discourseth with him thus.

O my sonne, if thou knewest thy Fathers care, and wouldest aunswere it with thy well dooing, I might haue hope of the continuaunce of my progeny, & thou be a ioy to my aged yeres. But I feare me the eyes of thy reason are blinded, so y• neither thy fathers teares maye perswade thée, nor thine owne follies laide open before thine eyes, reduce thée, but that my name shall cease in thée, and other couetous vnderminers shall inioye the fruites of my long labours. How tenderly good boye in thy mothers lyfe wast thou cherished? How déerely beloued? How well instructed? Did I euer entice thée to vice? Nay rather enforced I thée not to loue vertue? And whence commeth it that all these good instructions are swallowed vp by one sea of thy follie? In the Uniuersities thy wit was praised, for that it was pregnant, thy preferment great, for that thou deseruedst it, so that before God I did imagine, that my honour shuld haue beginning in thée alone, and be continued by thy ofspring, but béeing by mée brought to the Innes of Court, a place of abode for our English Gentri [...], and the onely nurserie of true lerning, I finde thy nature quite altered, and where thou first shuldest haue learnt law, thou art become lawlesse: Thy modest attire is become immodest brauerie, thy shamefast séemelynes, to shamelesse impudencie: thy desire of lerning, to loitering loue: and from a sworne souldier of the Muses, thou art become a master in the vniuersitie of loue, & where thou knowest not anie waie to get, yet fearest thou not outragiously to spend. Report, nay true report, hath made [Page] me pri [...]i [...] to many of thy escapes, which as a Father though I couer, yet as a good father, tenderly I will rebuke. Thy portion by yeare from me, is standing fortie pounds, which of it selfe is sufficient both to maintaine you honestly and cleanly: besides this, you are growne in Arrerages within this two yeares no lesse then 100. pound, which if thou wilt looke into, is sufficiēt for thrée whole yeres to maintaine an honest familie. Now how hast thou spent this, forsooth in apparell, and that is the aptest excuse: and lauishnesse in that, is as discommendable as in anie other, if in apparell thou passe thy boundes, what make men of thee? A prodigall proude foole, and as many fashions as they sée in thée, so manie frumpes will they afford thée, counting thée to carrye more bombast about thy belly, then wit in thy head. Naye my sonne, muse not vppon the worlde, for that will but flatter thée, but weigh the iudgement of God, and let that terrefie thée, and let not that which is the cause of pride, nussell thée vp as an instrument of Gods wrathfull indignation. What account reapes a young man by braue attire? Of the wise he is counted riotous, of the flatterer, a man easily to be seduced, [...] where one will afford thée praise, a thousand will call thée proud, the gretest reward of thy brauerie is thi [...] sée yonder goes a gallant Gentleman: and count you this praise worth ten score pounds? Truely sonne, it is better to be accounted wittie, then wealthy, and righteous, then rich, praise lasteth for a moment that is [...]ounded on shewes, and fame remaineth after death, that procéedeth of good substaunce: choose whether thou wilt bée infamous with Erostratus, or renowmed with Aristides, by one thou shalt beare the name of a Sacriledge, by the other, the title of Iust, the first maye flatter thee with similitude, the last will honour thée indéede, and more, when thou art dead. Sonne, sonne, giue eare to thy Fathers instructions, and grounde them in thy [Page] heart, so shalt thou bée blessed among the elders, and be an eye sore vnto thy enimies. A second griefe, nay more, a coras [...]ue to my heart (young man) is this, you are both prodigall in apparell, and in life, and vngratious and vngodly curtisans, (as I vnderstand) are become the mistresses of your mastership: & thinkest thou this report could come to thy Fathers eare, and not grieue him? Sonne, I had rather thou shouldest bée accounted foolish then amorous, for the one may be borne withall, the other is most odious. Incontinencie (yoūg man) is ye root of all inconuenience, it dulleth the memorie, decayeth the bodie, and perisheth the bones, it makethstedfast fickle, beautifull deformed, and vertuous vicious: it impayreth mans credit, it detracteth from his honour, and shortneth his daies, a harlots house is the gate of hell, into the which whosoeuer entereth, his vertues doe become vices, his agilitie is growne to slouthfulnesse, and from the child of grace, he is made the bondslaue of perdition. The wisest by lewde loue are made foolish, the mightiest by lust are become effeminate, the stoutest Monarkes to miserable mecockes. I wot well (my child) that chast loue is necessarie, but I know (my sonne) that lecherie is horrible. A harlots wanton eie is the lure of the diuell, her faire spéeches, the snares of sin, & the more thou delightest in her companie, ye more hepest thou the wrath of God against thy selfe: Let Lais looke neuer so dem [...]rely, yet Lais is Lais, measure not thy liking by lookes, for there be some holy diuells: to bée briefe, the end is this, he is best at ease that least meddeleth with anie of them. Demosthenes will not buie repentaunce so déere, as with high summes to purchase transitorie pleasures. and I had rather thou shouldest learne of a Philosopher, then bée instructed by thy owne fancie, marke this axiome, there is no vertue which is odious after it is attained to, but the pleasures of loue are then most loathsome, when they are determined: and therefore [Page] no vertues: and to conclude, not to be sought after. It is idlenesse my sonne, that seduceth thée: for the minde that is well occupyed, neuer sinneth. When thou enterprisest anie thinges, measure thine owne fortune by other mens successe: as thou considerest of theyr ends, so imagine of thine owne. Thinke with thy selfe the wisest haue fallen by loue, as Salomon, the richest, as Anthonie, the proudest, as Cleopatra, the strongest, as Sampson, and by how many degrées they did excéede thée, by so many circumstaunces preuent thy ruine. It is inough for sillie Birdes to be lead by the call of the Fowler, and for men it is most conuenient to flye apparaunt goods, & sticke to that which is indéede. Though thine eie perswade thée the woman is beautifull, yet let thy experience teach thée, shée is a Curtisan, and wilt thou estéeme of painted Sepulchres, when thou knowest certaine and determined substaunces? Doe we buie ought for the fairenesse or goodnesse? Spangled Hobbie horses are for children, but men must respecte things which be of value indéede. I imploie my money vppon thée, not to the vse thou shouldest be lewde, but for that I woulde haue thée learned. It gréeueth mee to heare reportes of thy companie kéeping, for where thou offendest in the two formost, thou art altogether nusled in this, and truelye I can not but meruayle at thée, that béeing borne reasonable, to make election, thou art so vntoward in picking out thy choice: Agrée light and darkenesse? Or the I [...]knewmon with the Aspis? Doeth the Wéesell loue the Cockatrice? Or gentle borne, such as bee vngratious? No my Sonne, broking bugges are not companions for continent Courtyers: for who so eyther accompanyeth them, is eyther accounted a spende thrifte, or one that is Sir Iohn Lacke lande, eyther of their fraternitie, or else a verie foole.

[Page]Finde me out anie one of them, that in thy aduersiti [...] will helpe thée, or in thy misdemeanor aduise thée. Nay. such they are, as will rather binde thée prentice with Sathan, then exhort thée to eschew sinne. They bée the Caterpillers of a Common weale, the sting of the Adder, nay, the priuie foes of all Gentrie, and such they be, that if they get, they care not how vngodly, and if they cousen, they care not how commonly: So that thrée vices haue nowe taken hold of thée, first prodigalitie, the enimie to continencie, next lasciuiousnesse, the enimie of sobrietie, and thirdly ill company, the decayers of thy honestie. The meanes to auoyde these euills are manifest, but they must be followed: it is not sufficient to knowe a fault, but it is wisedome to amend it: Humble thy heart (my sonne) to the highest, and the more thou considerest of him, the lesse wilt thou care for this flesh: For what is the body better by the gay rayment? truly no more then ye soule is by superfluous zeale, for as the one is foolish, so is the other franticke. Leaue lust, least it lose thée, vse chast delights for they will comfort thée; it is better driuing a toye out of memorie by reading a good lesson, then by idlenesse to commit an errour, which is sawed with repentaunce. Of néedlesse euills make no accompt, y• lesse you accompany ye worst, the more wil you be sought to by the best. Easie is it to say well, but the vertue is to doo well: O my déere childe, as thy frend I exhort thée, and as thy louing father I command thée, to consider of the tender care I haue of thée, and to imploy all thy indeouours now to my comfort: if thou hast runne awry, call thy selfe home, and waye within thy heart the reward both of vertue, and the discredite by vice, so the honour of the one will incite thée, the infamy of the other will deterre thee. For those debts that haue ouerpast thee, in hope of amendement I will sée them satisfied, and if heereafter thou fall into the lyke lurch, I promise thée this, that as now I deale with thée as a father, [Page] so then will I accompt of thée as a reprobate. Thou séest fire and water before thée, chuse to thy liking: in dooing well, I will reioyce in thée, in dealing otherwise, I will nothing account of thée.

The, father with teares hauing ended this his exhortarie, is aunswered in humble sort of his dissembling sonne, thus.

Whatsoeuer (good father) hath passed, is irreuocable, but what is to come may be considered of: it is naturall in me to fall, and vertuous to recouer my selfe. I confesse good sir, I am guiltie of errour, and haue faulted highlye, yet not so greatlye as you intimate: the world now a dayes is rather bent to aggrauate then to couer escapes. Wherefore, as the first step to amendement is repentance, so (deare father) I am sorrie for that is past, and most earnestly request you to continue your fauour, and no doubt but your sonne shall behaue himselfe héerafter to your comfort.

The father delighted with his sonnes discréete and humble aunswere, conceiueth hope of amendment, and returneth him to the Innes of the Court againe, and setting him on free foote, exhorteth him to follow vertue, and intentiuely to long after learning. But he, whose heart was pliable to receiue all impressions, no sooner is out of the view of his fathers house, but began to forget his olde promises, and renewes the remembrance of his mistresse, deuising by the way how to delight her, and what sutes to prouide that may satisfie her. To bee briefe, being returned to London, and quit of his fathers seruants, (y• newes of his arriuall being blazed abroad) his Broker in post hast comes and salutes him, his mistresse by tokens and swéete letters greetes him, hée maketh his marchant ioyfull in the receipt of the money, and mistresse Minxe merrie for the returne of her young copesmate.

To be briefe, in post hast he▪ posteth to her chamber, [Page] where Lo [...]d what friendly gréetings passe, what amorous regardes, how she blameth him of his delaye, and with fained teares watereth his youthly sace, howe shée sweares that she is constant, and yet a curtisan: howe she vowes she is continent, and yet common: truly it were a matter to make a Comedie on, to sée both their actions, and to note their discourses: there needes not many or long sermons on this, master Brokers help in short space is sought for: for the money my youths [...]ather gaue him, hath bought his mistresse a sute of the new fashion. The Broker readie at a becke, without delay furnisheth him with money: it is lamentable to report euery losse, and sith in another place I meane to set them downe, I will not motion them héere. In short space, our Marchant beginneth to looke after more assuraunce, and where to fore he was content with obligation, he now hunteth after statutes. (This kind of bond Gentlemen is well knowen among you, the vsurers by this time haue built mannor houses vpon some of your lyuelihoods: and you haue lost that for little, which will not be recouered with much.) The force whereof our youth considering not, so he haue foyson of money: the world to be short, at the last falleth out thus, both land, mony, & all possibilities, either by father or friends, are incroched vpon, by this gentle master Scrape-peny, so that now our youth finding neither suretie nor similitude, by his flattering vsurer is laid vp close for escaping. Let him write to his huswife Mistresse Minxe, she disdaineth him: let him intreate the Broker he refuseth him, let him make sute to the vsurer, he saith hée shall not cousen him: thus (this Gentleman that neyther by his fathers counsell woulde refuse, nor by his owne experience be perswaded, to auoyde the eminent daunger that hanged ouer his head, is brought to confusion, and those friends that fawned on him before in prosperitie, now frowne at him in his aduersitie: those [Page] that depended with flattering words in time of wealth on his finding, now altogether disdaine him that cannot finde himselfe. Loe Gentlemen what it is to winke at good counsell, and to preferre young attempts before old experience: sée héere the fruites of contempt, and lette these lessons serue you to looke into: had this Gentleman regarded aduice, had he considered of his estate, himselfe had bene at libertie, his friends in quiet. But (alas the while) our heires new a dayes haue running heads, which makes their parents abounde in teares: some are led with nouelties in forreine Nations, some with prodigalitie in their owne Countrey: some with pride, the first fruites of all impietie: some by loue, the ladie of loosenesse. If one hunteth after vertue, how many hundreds doo dayly practise vice? Let the experience of this young Nouice (my youthly countrey men) make you warie, and sée but into this one parcell of his lyfe, and giue your iudgement of his misfortune: his wit was sufficient to conceiue vertue, yet knowing (with Medea) the best, he headlong runne to the worst. Natures giftes are to be vsed by direction: he had learning, but hée applied it ill: he hadde knowledge, but hée blinded it with selfe opinion. All graces whatsoeuer, all ornaments what so they be, either giuen vs by our fore-parent, or grafted in vs by experience, are in themselues as nothing: vnlesse they be ordered by the power of the most highest. What care conceiue you, may be comperable to this young Gentlemans fathers sorrow? who séeth his house pluckte ouer his head: his sonne imprisoned to his great discredite, and the vsurer the onely gainer, and yet the most vilest person.

Nowe, what becommeth of our youth thinke you? his Father refuseth him, dispossessing the ryghte heyre of what hée maye, and poore hee is lefte desolate and afflicted in prison. And in these dayes how many are infected with this desperate disease, Gentlemen [Page] iudge you, I my selfe with teares haue heard some priuie complaints, and lamented my friends misfortunes, falne so sodainly. My good friends y• are héerafter to enter into this world, looké on this glasse: it wil shew you no counterfait, but the true image of a rebellious sonne, and the rewarde of contempt▪ of parents; account your selues happie to learne by others experience, and not to be pertakers of the actuall sorrowe: Obey your parents, for they loue you, trust not to straungers, for they will vpbraide you of their benefite; it is better to haue the stripes of a friend, then the kisses of a flatterer. Plato would haue young men to looke in the glasse, for two causes, the one, that if they founde themselues beautyfull in visage, and of exquisite stature, they might indeuor to make the vertues of their minde, answerable to the liniaments of the bodie: the other, that if they found themselues of deformed shape, they should séeke to beautifie the same by the inward perfections of the minde; & for two causes my good friends, woulde I wish you to consider of this mans fall, and read his misfortune: the one, that not being yet nipped, you may preuent: the other, that being but yet a little galled, you would holde backe.

Est virtus placidis abstinuisse bonis.

As the Loadstone draweth yron, so let good counsaile conquere your affections, as the Theamides of Aegypt driueth awaie yron, so let the feare of God dispell all worldly plesures: If a simple man fall to decay, it may be borne withall, if a man of wisdome grow in arrerages, may we not blame his follie? It is better to bée enuied then pittyed, for thou art pittied alwaies in misfortune, but en [...]ied at time of thy prosperitie. To bée briefe (Gentlemen) ouerlooke this aduisedly, & you shall finde many things worthy the noting, and no few matters written for your cōmoditie. This miserable young man, ouerwhelmed thus on euerie side with manifolde [Page] and sundry cares, beholding his most vnfortunate state, in wofull termes in the prison house breketh into these complaints.

Alas vnhappie wretch that I am, that hauing a good father that did cherish me, a tried mother that tenderly nourished me, many friends to accompanie me, faire reuenewes to inrich me: haue heaped sorrowe on my owne head by my Fathers displeasure, refused of my friends for my misdemeanour, & dispossessed of my land by my prodigalitie. O incestpous lust that enterest the hart, & consumest the bones, why followed I thée? & O vngodly pleasure why didst thou flatter me? O wicked and vngracious man that hast vndone me, and woe be vnto thée (vile wretch) that in my miserie doest thus leaue me. What shall become of me poore wretch? faine now would I begge that bread, which vainlye I haue spent: now too too late doo I sée, that fainednesse is no faith, and he that trusts to this world, cleaues to a broken staffe. Alas, how should I attaine to libertie? or by what meanes may I escape my confusion? My Father hath accepted of another sonne, and all by reason of my lewdnesse: O that I had respected his vnfained teares, O that I had accepted his good aduice, O that I had reiected my flattering friends. But I sée no hope is lefte me, my creditour is too cruell, yet hath he co [...]soned me: and faine would I be his bond slaue, woulde he release me: but since no hope is lefte me of recouerie of my Estate, I referre my cause to God, who as he will remit my offence, so will he redresse my miserie and griefe.

Whilest in these or such like tearmes, the poore young man bewayles his heauie happe, sodainly enters his cousoning creditour, and in outwarde shew bewailyng his misfortune, yet in very truth the onely originall cause of his destruction, comforteth him in these or such like termes.

Gentleman, the exigent and extremitie that you are [Page] now at, though it be most tedious vnto you, it is most lamentable in my opinion. These young yéeres to taste of sorrowe so soone, is straunge, considering all circumstaunces: but since the cause procéedes of your owne lewd misspending, mine be the losse in part, but the greter must your affliction be. I hoping of your well dooing, neither denied your pleasure nor profite, yet in liew and recompence of all, I finde iust nothing: a few subscribed papers I haue, and some money I haue receyued, but nothing to my principall, and yet notwithstanding so fauourable wil I be vnto you, as if you procure me any one suretie I will release you. To léese my money I were loath, and to kéepe you héere it were more loathsome. I wold doo all for the best, not hindering my selfe, so you would straine your selfe to satisfie me somewhat.

The Gentleman knowing in himselfe his vnability, beginneth in truth to open his state, protesting, that neither of himselfe, nor by any one at the present he is to doo any thing, no not so much as if he released him to pay his charges, such is his miserie, in that all his frends had giuen him ouer, wherevpon most humbly he beséecheth him, to way his cause, promising any seruice what so euer may be: if so be it will please him to set him frée. Mas vsurer smelling out the disposition of the youth, beginnes to bring him to his bowe after this sort.

The world at these dayes is such (my friende) as there is small respect had of those which haue nought, and great honour attributed vnto them, that will most neerly looke to themselues: which I perceiuing, haue giuen my selfe (as naturally men are inclined to séeke after glory) to the hoording vp of riches, to the end that my posteritie might be raised vp, and my fathers name (which as yet is of no accompt) might by my meanes become worshipfull. To perfourmaunce of this, trulye [Page] I haue neither ben idle nor euill occupied: my thoughts haue wholly bene set of gettings, and who so nowe a dayes hath not the like meaning, his purpose will grow to small effect. And though of my selfe, I doo what I may, yet (as it is necessary) I must haue ministers, wher by that which I looke for may be brought to my hands: otherwise, my stocke might lye without vsaunce to my vtter vndooing. Wherevpon, if thou wilt followe my direction and be ruled by my counsell, I will release thée of prison, and set thée at libertie: restore thée to thy wonted credite, and countenaunce thée with my coyne, so that in shorte space thou maist haue money in thy pursse, and other necessaries to set thée vp againe. Thou seest that now thou art miserable, but I will make thée fortunate: thou now art almost foodlesse, by me thou shalt be satisfied with the best: thy friends now disdain thée, the day shall come that they shall séeke to thée: now art thou without apparell, through me thou shalte bée costlye attired: naye, what pleasure soeuer thou shalt either imagine for thy preferment, or wish for to doo thée good, thou shalt both finde me ready to performe it, and friendly to continue it.

The Gentleman surprised with this sodaine ioye, and vnacquainted good speaches (not dreading that the Serpent laye hidden in the grasse) most willinglye assented, promising to the aduenture of his lyfe, (so his creditour woulde be his wordes master,) to doo his indeauour to perfourme his will, as hée ought to doo. The Usurer séeing the minde of his prisoner, preciselye bent to doo his commaunde, openeth his heart vnto him thus.

Gentleman, for that I haue an opinion of your honestye, and truste in your secrecye: I will open vnto you my minde, and according as I finde your aunswere, I will shape your deliueraunce. Such time [Page] as you were at libertie, you know you had acquaintaunce with manye Gentlemen, and they not of the meanest: who at sometimes as well as your selfe were destitute of siluer: such as those be you must finde out for me, I will delyuer you presentlye: apparayle you in print, giue you money in your pursse, and at suche an Ordinarye shall you lye, where the greatest resorte is: your behauiour and vsage towardes all men must be verye honest, especiallye in all causes looke into the natures of men. If you spie out any one Gentleman pensiue, enter into discourse with him, if you maye perceiue, that either by parentage or possession, hée is worthie credite, laye holde on him, feede him with money if he want, and (as though it procéeded of your own good nature) profer him to be bound for him: if he accept your offer, come to me, I will furnish him: nowe you may deuide the commoditie or the money betwéen you, and out of your part (considering me after the bignesse of the summe) take the rest for your owne fée: which if you looke into, in a yeare will growe vnto no small summe. This is the Load-stone must lead you: and by all meanes you must fashion your selfe to féede humours: this is an honest meanes to lyue by, this is a way to libertie, by this you may pleasure your selfe: and to conclude in dooing this, you maye mightelye in short space inrich me. When you haue found out one fit to your vaine, remember this lesson, that what so euer vauntage you get of him, either for me, or for your self, care not how little paper and inke he can shewe of yours, kéepe still your owne stake cléere. In these matters you must be verie circumspect, for there be now a daies such vnderminers start vp, that scarce a man can imagine his owne profit but they preach it a broad, and laye it open. Thus doo you sée whereto you must trust: howe saye you nowe, will you be content to doo this.

[Page]The young man aunswereth, Good sir, there is nothing that you haue sayde that by mée shall anie wayes be forgotten, I am readie and willing to put in practise what you haue taught, and no doubt you shall finde me so diligent, y• your selfe shal say, you were happie in putting me in trust. In briefe the conclusion is this, the vsurer glad of this new Gentleman broker, dischargeth him, sets him a floate: now who so braue as our late prisoner, or who so frolicke? The olde sorrowes are forgotten, and new inuentions to cousin▪ possesse the receptacle of his reason. His olde acquaintaunce flocke about him, some reioycing at his recouered libertie, some wō dering at his sodaine brauerie, yet fewe suspecting his pretended and hidden knauerie. Of them some he saluteth humblye, some ordinarilye, he was not so well instructed, but it is as well performed. Now who but our Gentleman is a companion for the best, and a cousiner of the most, he staies not long before he be-prouided of a praie, whom he so ordereth, as himselfe is pertaker of y• halfe, though the other be paymaster of the whole, and as those that are in the heate and extremitie of an ague, desire drink to satisfie their drought: so this young gentleman that is brought into bondes by one cousining spend thrift, hauing once entered foote in the high waie of prodigalitie, continueth headlong his course to his owne confusion. But by the way it is to be noted, that this Gentleman which is brought into the laps by our late prisoner, hath his possession & portion alotted him, so that our vsurer & his mate worke vpon sure groundes. Two or thrée Obligations and commodities receiued, our vsurer grows to new deuises, and sets his schollers to practise them, saith he, I must now haue you learne, to bring in this your friend to paie your debtes, and by this meanes you shall bring it about, you shall when next time he shall demaund your helpe, tell him that of me there will be had no money before your olde bondes [Page] be canceled, so that vnlesse he deale with me, by some meanes to acquit that, it is vnpossible to attaine vnto anie farther supplie. You may alleadge vnto him howe in such like extremities you haue stucke, and will sticke vnto him, and desire him in so easie a request he wil not leaue you destitute, by this meanes shall you be rid of your olde debts, and be as frée from inconuenience as euer you wer. No sooner hath our seducer learnt this lesson, but forth he trudgeth to find out this young master, if possible may be, if so be he as yet be stored, he doth either make him spend it or lend it, & vpō his new request of supply, openeth vnto him all the circumstance which before he had learned, & so cunningly handleth him, that the Gentleman desirous of money is easilye content. Wherevpon the matter is handeled thus betwixt the Merchaunt and this Gentleman broker to preuent inconuenience, if the brokers bond be an hundreth pounds, the Merchant will lend fiftie more, and maketh y• young man to seale an absolute bond as his owne debt, so that the desperate debte of the decayed co [...]soned, by his meanes is brought to be the true debt of this silly Gentleman. Naie when they haue fatted both their fingers, they leaue not thus, but from money shoote at land, for if the Gentleman haue 500. pound in stocke payable at 24. or 25. yeares, they will so worke as all that shall be their proper goods which they will recouer out of the executors hands, either by attachment or otherwise, and besides that, so cunningly will they deale, that although they haue sufficient assuraunce in hand alreadie, yet wil they not leaue till they get an other more sure string to their bowe, therby to compasse the poore Gentlemans lands, at his want they will deale thus. This Gentleman and the broker must bée inuited by the Merchant, when amongst other table talke, M. Scrape-penie féeles my youth if his monie be gone, & offring spéeches of willingnes to prouide him alwaies at his néed, sets on by a [Page] beck his cousoning mate, to procure y• gentlemā to craue more mony, which he doth, ye merchant cunningly coulering his craft, answereth him thus. Gentlemā you sée I [...]m far out already, & vpon your single bond I haue disburst a round sum of money, no lesse then 500. poundes, which in a poore mans purse as I am, is no small quantitie, neuertheles if you wil affoord me farther assurāce, I wil not stick in redie mony once more to lend you 30. pounds. The gentleman neuer tofore vsed to receiue redy mony at y• first hāds, begins to yéeld him harty thāks & humbly to pray him to demand & he will performe, for saith he, considering your honest dealing, I cannot think you may imagine any resonable assurance which I wil not seale to. Why the quoth y• merchant, y• matter standeth thus, if so be you will seale me an estatute for my mony, no sooner shal you haue done it, but you shal haue y• mony, all your bonds in, & a desesance, to this y• I offer is reasonable, & to morrow if you will I will doe it. Agreed quoth y• Gentleman, & so takes his leaue, the next morrowe according to promise, the Gentleman sealeth the assurance, acknowledging an estatute, before some one Iustice of the bench, and comming to his Merchants house for his money, is delaied for that daie of, & in fine, his absolute answere is this, that without a suretie he promised him none: he takes witnesse of his friend (as he tearmeth him) a prety péece of witnesse, when he séeth no remedie, he demaundeth his bondes, & he witholdeth thē, he craues his deceasance, & cannot haue it. Thus is ye poore Gentlemā brought into a notable mischiefe; first in being co [...]soned of his mony; next deluded by his estatute wtout deceasance (for if y• deceasāce be not deliuered y• same time or daie, y• statute is yet nothing auailable) thirdly by his bonds detaining, which may be recouered against him, & continue in full force; and the vsurer that playes all this rie, will yet be counted an honest and well dealing man. But flatter them who so list for me, [Page] I rather wish their soules health, then their good countenances, though I knowe they will storme at me for opening their secrets, yet truth shall countenaunce mée since I séeke my countries cōmoditie. Héere you see two houses destroied manifestly, y• one of them, from a Gentleman made a craftie cousoner; the other of them from a landed man, a silly poore wretch. And wonderfull it is to sée, considering the asperitie of the Penall statutes set downe by her Maiestie, and her honourables Péeres in the Parliament. How pretie collusions these cunning merchants can [...]ind to infringe them. One priuate practise they haue in deliuerie of ye commoditie, to make the condition of the Obligation thus. The condition, &c. is this, that if the within bound. T. C. his heires, executors or assignes, doe well and truely pay or cause to be paide to y• aboue named M. S. the sum of 40. pounds of lawful mony of England, at his own dwelling house, scituated & being in Colman stréet, which he y• sayd T. C. standeth indebted vnto him for, if so be that he the sayd M. S. or S. his wife be in life, y• then. Otherwise, &c. Now in this cō ditiō, y• casual mart bringeth it out of cōpasse of statute, thus by collusions M. Scrape-penie gathers vp his money. Others worke by statute and recognisaunce, making their debter to discharge in their bookes of account the receit of so much money, where indéede they had nothing but dead commoditie. Other worke by liues, as if such a one liue thus long, you shall giue mée during his or her life 10. pounds a yeare, for 30. pounds, and be bound to the performaunce of that by statute. Other some deale in this sorte, they will picke out among the refuse commoditie some pretie quantitie of ware, which they will deliuer out with some money, this sum may be 40. pound, of which he will haue you receiue 10. pound readie money, and 30. pounds in commoditie, and all this for a yeare: your bonde must be recognisaunce, now what thinke you by all computation your [Page] commoditie will ar [...]se vnto, truely I my s [...]lfe knew him that receiued the like, and may holdly auouch this, that of that thirtie pounds commoditie, there coulde▪ by no broker be more made then foure nobles: the commoditie was Lute stringes, and was not this thinke you more then abhominable vsurie? Naie common losses, & y• reasonablest is, for 36. pound for thrée months, accounted a good penie worth, if there be made in redie mony, 20. pounds, naye passing good if they make 25. poundes, I haue knowen of fortie, but sixtéene pound, and tenne shillings. These be general payments, and receits, incident to the most part of the young Gentlemen that I knewe deale that wayes: and truely I my selfe knowe within my time, no few number of Gentlemen, which are vtterly vndone by this meanes, and vnlesse this euill be preuented, and Gentlemen take not more héede, more will followe after. But if the punishment of these men were. In discretione Iudicis, notwithstanding the lawe were couloured with all by them, yet the conscience of the iudge woulde cut such ill members off. In former ages these things being knowen, were lookt vnto, and now when most punishment is meanaced, vsurie is most practised. Well may we now sée that the craftie haue as many cautiles, as the discréet cautions. If we had as seuere lawes in England, as once in Athens Solon set downe, wée shoulde then cast a rayne ouer the head strong vnrulynesse of these Caterpillers: there it was not lawfull, the Father béeing liuing, that anye money shoulde bée lent vnto the sonne: who béeing vnder his Fathers gouernement, was not to bée ordered according to his owne lyking: and there whosoeuer did transgresse this lawe, it was ordayned that hée might haue no recouerye, nor bée reléeued anye waye by iustice, for that it was doubted, that the sonne hauing no wayes to aunswere that hée did owe, should eyther be inforced by practising coniurations in the Citie, [Page] or exercising priuye thefte in his Fathers house, to ridde and discharge himselfe of the burthen of his debte.

The Aegygtians and Athenians séeing the errour of couetous vsurie to take footing in their prouinces, by approued iudgement concluded, that by no instrument, plea, execution, or other meanes in lawe, a bodie might bée detained: the originall béeing for corrupt gaines.

The Romanes, who not onelye inuented, but imitated those Lawes which confounded errour, by decrée of Senate, with the Athenians, in the verye same tearmes as they didde sette downe, that no money should bee lent to young heyres vppon interest, neyther allowing the detinue pleadable, nor the vsurie aunswerable, hauing a priuate eye into the vnmeasurable and gréedie intents of those couetous carles, who compasse the Fathers landes before the Sonne come to it.

In the Lawe of the twelue Tables, orders in this cause were prescribed, and directions set downe by the Tribunes: among whome, a man of rare vertue, Lucius Gomatius instituted and made a law, where in he enacted, that no vsurie, nor vsurers shoulde bée allowed.

Lucius Lucullus séeing this errour alreadye creapt thorough all Asia, and (lyke a wise gouernour) wylling to preuent, not onelye made a Law to auoyde all occasion of vnlawfull games, but also appoynted punishmentes to those that were subiect to the errour.

Tiberius Caesar as curious as the rest for common good, didde with as greate circumspection as might bée, take awaye the cause, and displace the effecte of this mischiefe: not suf [...]ering that to take [Page] heade in his gouernement, that was the capytall enimie of a well ordered State: Claudius Caesar not yéelding to his Auncestours in honourable actions, renewed these Lawes: Vespatian continued them: and Marcus Antonius Pius, with Alexander Seuerus established them with publike instrumentes: who to the fore-passed erroures by farther insight ioyned this, That by this vnlawfull getting, manye of the best and most auncient houses in all Italy, were brought to vtter ruyne, and confusion.

The Indians disdayning such seruile attemptes, not onely mislikie of lending, but also forbad borrowing, neither is it lawfull for an Indian to proffer, nor agreeable for one of the Nation to suffer iniuryes: disdayning among them both the vse of oblygations, and the abuse of pawning.

Hatefull was this errour in Licurgus Common weale of Sparta, whereas not onely the name was odious, but also the thing it selfe was asperlye punished.

Agis King of the same Citie, séeing the practises of the couetous to work so wōderfully as they séemed, not onely punished the attemters of vnlawfull profite, but also in the open market place, hée burnt all the bondes and Oblygations of the rich Bankers in the Citie.

In Thebes it was by statute [...]orbidden, that anye man should be put in office, that within tenne yeares before the election had practised any vnlawfull chaffering.

The Germanes in theyr tarations of antiquitie: whereas they bounde the Théefe to restore double the thing he stole, they ordeyned that the vsurer shuld make recompence foure folde▪ for his iniurie. And in [Page] borrowing the felicitie of all these Countries, wée ar [...] not so happie, as to abridge those errours that they most mislykt off: But héere perhappes some curyous maintainer of vnnecessarie members will conclude, that the state cannot anie wayes bée hindered by ani [...] these actions, inferring that the dissolution of one familie, is the setting vp of another: which in as many vertues maye match, and with as greate value imploie it selfe in the state, as the other that is decayed.

Héerevnto I shape this aunswere, that if it bée true, that the nobilitie of the Father worketh in the childe, I cannot sée howe these vpstartes maye anie waies employe themselues in honourable Actions, when as neither their auncestours euer knewe more then their Beads, or their Fathers other then vnlawfull gaines: and howe canne it bée that where the minde onely worketh in seruile subiects, it should anie waies be eleuated to attempt honourable exploits? But be it these sorte of men are necessarie both in thēselues, & for their Countrie, which cannot be concluded, in that they be broken members: yet must they conclude by the (touchstone of truth) the Scriptures, that their necessarinesse in this world, makes them vnnecessary for God: by whose presidents if they should leuell their lawes, I am afraid the graft wold be so stiffe in the bending, that it would be rather thought more necessarie for the fewell, then worthy the correction. In the most happiest man y• euer was, whether philosopher or otherwise, I find this, y• one onely blemish in his actions hath made them ben noted for an error: now if these men shuld in their enterprises be ga [...]de into, I feare me y• as in the black Iet is séene no white: in the deadlye poison is founde no preseruatiue: in the sprouting iuie, no fruite: on the vnnecessarie thistle no grapes: so in these men the mischiefe [Page] woulde be so manifest, that the shew of vertue would be extinguished. So that I can necessarily conclude this, that both these sorte of men are vnnessarye for themselues, vnméete for their countrey, vnfit for a family, yea conuenient for nothing, but to present the painter with the true image of couetousnes. For themselues how can they be profitable, in destroying theyr soules, and martering their bodies? in consuming themselues with thought, in deuising of newe attemptes to delude. If they compare but their hearts sorrow, with their excesse gain, they shall finde this most certain, that the encombrances of the minde are so peysant, that they doo by oddes weigh downe their commoditie in the ballaunce. What is it to get good, and to loose happinesse? to enioye much riches, and little rest? to haue manye Lordships, and much hart-breake? Alas, what are the goods of fortune, that they should entice? or the plesures of the flesh, that they should allure? If our stately pallaices were to continue permanent, if our worldly riches were to make our after yeares renowmed, if euery thousand of our ducates, were to benefit vs but with a hundred good precepts: I wold beare with couetousnes with the best, & practise it with the most: but since we sée that much hording cannot be without sinne, much getting without griefe, much profite without paine, much increase of goods, without decrease of vertues, I cannot but conclude with the philosophers, that the hoording vp of riches maketh many impressions of vices. And that those that are no wayes profitable for themselues, are not worthy the names of citizens in a state: whereas, when all things should be limitted by vertue, how can vsury be winkt at, when it is no way legitimate. Our lawes in this state, although they suffer a commoditie, yet confirme not they taking: concluding heerein, a meruaylous pollicye: to those haue in sight, which is, [Page] that leauing it euident, that where neither Lawe of God can limit them, nor disposing of right suffer them, nor preuention of errours withdrawe them from punishing this error, and not letting it slip, they as willyng to pul away by péece-meales, as to confound altogether: like wise Surgions eate out the dead flesh, by sundrye plaisters, and no sodaine corosiue, thereby wisely warning the wise to pull back by curtesie, and the indurate by beholding their forbearance, to feare the scourge when it shal come.

Yet some will héere adde and inferre, (though vnnecessarily,) that those whom I héere so asperlye reprehend, are as religious as the best, haunt the Church with the most, at their buriall be as bountifull as the godliest, and therefore it may not be thought, that séeing so many goods, they should follow the bad. To whom I aunswere, If they heare correction of sin by often haunting of sermons, yet continue their wickednesse, when they know what it worketh, their actions are wicked, their liues dissolute, their endes desperate. For theyr bountie at their burialls, that is but their last action, & their best attempt: but if we looke into the considerations of their benificence, I doubt not but we shall finde whereas their shooe wringeth them. If they are liberall to leaue them a memorie when they are gone, alas they striue against the streame: for this it will fall out, perhaps they shal haue a few poore womēs praicrs for their blacke gownes, but a thousande decayed Gentlemens curses for their high exactions. If they be bounteous in hope to recompence y• which is past, alas it is as much, as to cast water to stop a gappe, or gather brambles to builde mannor houses. If they be lookt into in this their penie doale, we shall finde a kinde of impulsion in all thinges: Truely, truely, I feare mée, if Mas vsurer [Page] knewe he shoulde liue, hée had rother haue a fayre pawne for his foure nobles, then a thousand prayers of a poore woman: and the forfaiture of a Lease for his xx. poundes, then the funerall Epitaph of the vniuersities for his last willes liberalitie. Since therefore impulsion forceth them to be bounteous, not frée will, liberall, we must accompt of them thus, that both they are both vnworthie praise, being vnwilling to be bountifull, and little to bée estéemed of, though their pretence bée neuer so perfect. What praise deserueth he that will proffer medicines to a whole bodie? or the spur to a willing horse, or the raine to an vnwildie colt, or honor to a peruerse man: shall we conclude, because ye vsurer is rich, he is righteous? Because wealthie? Wise: because sul of golde, therefore godly? I feare me it wil fall out that some of our scrape penies, are as worthie to be deliuered to perdition, as Sauanarota of Rome, of whom Marubus maketh mētion) who not satisfied with excessiue gain in his life time, at his death became a praie to diuells: It gréeueth me to consider of y• vnhappie state of some, who like fine cloth are deuoured with these moths, like white rambricke are stained with this yron moulde: & silly birds, are deceiued with the call of this Fowler. O vnhappy state, staind with so vnprofitable members, whose féete tread the wayes of errours, mindes imagine mischiefe, heartes are indurate, confounding the fatherlesse, oppressing the widow, making all poore, and themselues onely rich.

A lamentable case it is, to sée howe true simplicitie, the maintainer of peace, is almost altogether exiled out our common weale: and that worldlye wit doeth wade so farre, as heauenlye wise are brought into admiration of their mischiefe. In other notable Gouernementes and common weales, this one vice hath hadde a fall, and héere where it [Page] should be most detested, it is most vsed. Great hath ben [...] our wisdomes in repression of cōspiracies, great our policies in maintaining of peace, circumspect our preuētions to eschew mutinies: and yet the long time we haue laboured in this, yet dayly more and more it groweth to head: and whereas the other vices haue bene exterminated by good looking to, this (though altogether loathed) is most lookt after. And in this case I must appeale to you (right Honorable) whose wisedome is continually imployed, to the maintenaunce of our state: & craue you cast your eye aside, and but looke into the worlde a lyttle, lette your Herauldes Bookes be spied into, consider the state that hath bene, and now is: and I feare me there will some teares fall, and more care be conceiued. Alas I know it well, that many auncient coates will be found there vncountenaunced, and it is to bee found out, that some sléepe on their beddes of downe, in those mannor houses, which were builded for the staye of some of our best noble seigniors. Nay, is it not true, that more are eaten out with vsury, then anye other abuse whatsoeuer? And although Commissions are graciously graunted from her Maiestie, as a most mercifull Prince, and from your Honors, as most sage, fatherly, and prudent tenderers of gentry, grown into pouerti [...]: yet such is the contempt of some men, as they neither measure commaund, nor haue respect to conseience. The reuerend Fathers and eyes of Religion in this Common weale, how exclaime they on this vice, and pronouce the wrathfull threates of the Almightie against these vngracious gatherers? yet how slenderly they regard them, their manifest & notorious mischiefes beare record. So that it is to be feared, that when neither honourable command may controll them, nor diuine admonition reclaime them, they are growen into a reprobate sense, and hane forsaken the Law of the Lord, and hunted after the whore, and are dronken with the lycour [Page] of her abhominations.

Principijs obsta sero medicina paratur,

Cum mala per longas inualuere moras.

Noble Lords, may it please you yet a little more to giue me leaue, that as I haue manifested the mischeife, so (to my slender conceit) I may imagine a salue. The Nobilitie, Gentrie, and other heires whatsoeuer, either by reason of their Fathers tenour are wardes vnto her Maiestie, or else by the tender prouision of their Parents, they are lefte to the discretion of their kinsfolke. For those that by her Maiesties prerogatiue, by y• death of their Fathers, fall into her protection: the most part of them are begged by Gentlemen, and committed to their tuition: among whome, as there be some prouident and carefull to consider of the childes commoditie, so (I feare me) other some are selfe minded, and gréedie of their owne gaine: which if so be it fall out. I feare me the childe that is vnder this gouernment will happely miscarrie, for if maintenance come from the protector slenderly, the nature of the youth béeing noble, will couet after supplie, and so through the couetousnes of the one, growes the confusion of the other, and by this meanes growes ye Gentleman into y• Merchants booke in arrerages, when his warden furnisheth him not according his degrée and calling: but it may be, that there bée purposes imagined by the gouernour, and practised by the Merchaunt, so that the one will not bée pertaker of the shame, yet will he not sticke to beare part of the gaine. But to let further matters wittingly ouerslip, for that I finde it good to winke at somewhat: returne we to the other sortes of heires, lefte to the tuition of friendes: among whome there growe lyke inconueniences, as in the former: for nowe a dayes kinsfolkes are as couetous as others, and as craftye as the best, whose priuate conueyaunces the young heires knowe, and seuerallye when they be sought into, will [Page] open. But for the ordering of all these thinges, and the recouering of this state, it were conuenient that the Warden of the Wardes vnder her Maiesties protection, should at the receit of the Gentleman, be bound according to the value, to the honourable, that haue authoritie in that case, for the vsage of the Gentleman, and that certaine stipend might be set downe annuallye for his prouision, rather with the most then least, so that then it will fall out, that hauing sufficient of his owne, he will not depend on the supplie of an other. The like annimaduertion if it bée had in respect of the other, and the care of taking the bonds, and prefiring the portion set downe by the direction of certaine Iustices of peace in euerie shéere, we shoulde haue lesse complaints to trouble your honours, and merchauntes should want young ministers to ridde them of their resuse cōmoditie. I haue glaunced into a matter (my good Lord) which if wisdome consideratly looke into, there will growe an exquisite platforme. These causes right honourable are necessarie, and néedfull to be noted, and such they be, that no doubt they will be as beneficiall to the state, as anie other whatsoeuer. For by this meanes your honours shall be praised, the wardens wel thought of, the Gentlemen kept in good state, and the Merchant abridgde of his craftie dealings. I haue heard this cause lamented of among the most part of that profession, who loth their title should be attributed to so outragious dealers. If they will desire the name, let them vse the nature, & let not all the whole order bée blemished, by a few disordered dealers blame: but to leaue this to your honourable and graue consideration, and to returne to your curteous Gentlemen, to whome this matter most pertaineth, & for whose onely cause this pain is taken: I most earnestly beseech you looke into your owne states, & consider with your selues, the misery & mischiefe that groweth by these follies: consider y• end of all these practises [Page] which the vsurers doe put in vre, forsooth it is to make you beggers, where now your supplies be plentifull, & to emptie your purses, where now they are replenished: consider of their mercy either it is imprisonment, or else libertie with more shame: weygh of their ends agréeing to theyr life: it was a pretie and wittie saying which was written.

Auaro quid mali optes ni vt viuat diu.

Wish a couetous man no more mischiefe, then that he may liue long. For he dieth daily in care, and consumeth in thought: refraine prodigalitie, so shall you haue no need of thē: bée continent, so shall you be sought to of them: leaue them to their owne lusts, they are not of y• Lord: let your garments be comely, & not costly: sor a comly continent man is more estéemed of, then a costly spende thrifte accompted of. It is the vertues of your mindes, the perfections of your vnderstandinge, your intellectuall contemplacions, that makes you accounted of among the wise, and beloued among the learned: In your professions be studious, for y• brings profit: an houre well spent, is better then a dayes pleasure: eschew those things that may decay your memory, & in euery good action cōtinue to the end: trust not to apparant goodes, beléeue not credulously y• faire spoken, be as prouident to eschew trouble, as the enuious is prudent to procure your discomsort: looke on nothing that may altar you from a man, thinke on nothing that may mislead you, if you promise, performe it, but in promising vse discreation: these be the fruites of experyence, learnt by some in sorrowe, and lette them bée practised by you in securitie Let not the garish shew of a present pleasure, the sillie shadowe of an earthly delyght, a transitorie similitude of a momentanye glorye, make you followe that which wyll coste you manye sighes and sundrye sorrowes (when you looke into your state, and see howe you are [Page] compassed of friendes, smilde vpon by fortune, beautified by nature, pefectd by art, when you perceiue care hath not yet forrowed your forhead: labour euen then to continue friendes, to make peace with fortune, to mainetaine nature, to studye arte, and béeing fréed as yet from trouble, fence your actions so strong, as they may neuer become troublesome. Aurelius in his Court seeing certaine Philosophers vsing vnséemely iestures, wagging their heads, toying with theyr garments, and stamping with their féete, gathering by their exteriour behauiour, how vnapt their actions were in respect of their precepts, exprlsed them the court, as vnméete to be preferred to honours. Although not Marcus Aurelius, but wise Saba now gouerning, think you that gracious Elizabeth cannot as well finde out a vain head vnder a wauing feather, a dissolute minde vnder a codpeece dublet, a wanton thought vnder a straunge habite, as the Emperour vnder a lyght iesture? Yes truely (Gentlemen): no doubt but that eie y• winketh at most things, séeth many, and that wonderfull capacitie that comprehendeth so much discipline, cannot ouerslip the mislyke of masking brauerie. If one errour were as much banished England, as it was Rome, neither should idlenesse offer the couetous opportunitie, neither the idle be cousened by the couetous. It is idlenesse that maketh amorous, it is idlenesse that maketh fascionatine, it is idlenesse that bréedes excesse, it is idlenesse that destroyeth all humane happinesse the eye fixed on heauenlye contemplations, gazeth not on earthlye beautie, the thought occupyed on remembrance of moral preceptes, neuer vouchsafe the misdéemings of the fantasie: y• bodie subdued by assidious trauaile, is neuer altered by the motions of the flesh: the hope grounded on immortality, hath not reference to an houres pleasures. So that man is neuer altered in himself, enimie of himselfe, procurer of his parents troubles: but euen the [...] [Page] chiefly, whē idlenes is predominant, follypreferred, & fashions to féed fantasies allowed of. The meanes then to auoyd the Usurers booke, is to be continent: the way to be continent, is not to be idle: the reward of not béeing idle, is the daily increase of more knowledge: and the increase of more knowledge maketh a man happie. The sting of the Aspe confoundeth in slumbers, the venonie of idlenesse, waiteth carelesse opportumities: truly gentlemen, the first step to auoyd expence, is to grow in contempt of brauerie, which if our noble younge youthes wold practise for a while, it wold so fall out, y• not onely vaine fantasies should cease, fonde fashions finde no fauourers, and the vsurer hauing his odde refuse commodities dead i [...] his hand, would either afforde better peniworths, or séeke for forreine traffique. But to leaue you Gentlemen to your good counsailes, and returne to you good master vsurers, whose eares glowe at the rehearsall of these enormities, I must pray you giue mée leaue to make vp a conclusion, and to finish these fewe lines with an admonition for your cause; and though the corrections I vse be bitter, account of them the better, for why they be more cordiall. A gréedie desire of gayne, is the disease that infecteth you, some termes it thriftinesse, some néernesse, but in plaine tearmes, it is vsurie: and that is nought els but a gréedie desire of other mens goods, and this by the commandement is forbidden to be followed, and therefore irreligious are they that vse it. The man that coueteth gold, conceiueth not goodnesse, his appetite is of the earth, and those that are earthly minded, sauour not the things that are of God. What though you cloath your selues in simplicitie of Doues, and your inwarde habite be worse then the voracite of Wolues; he that made you knoweth you, and he whom you offend can (and will) punish you; you wil say you were naturally borne, (as Tully witnesseth) to take care for your selues, and to prouide Victum & vestitum, [Page] meate and clothing: and I graunt it, but wher [...] find you, either Ethinke, prophane, or sacred sentence, to confirme your extreame hoording vp of golde, yea then most earnestly, when you are most rich? The laboursome Ant gathereth not in excesse, but sufficient prouision for the Winter, yet without reason: and you which are reasonably borne, hoorde vp more, then orderly (at first sight) you well knowe howe to imploy. You long after Nabals vineyard with Iesabel, but the dogs shall deuour you in the gate: you heape house vpon house, land vpon land, Quasi numquam sit periturum soeculum, as though this world would last euer, but sodainly shal the wrath and curse of the Lord fall vpon you, and (without spéedie repenta [...]nce) he will consume you in a moment. O turne spéedely vnto the Lord, and put not off from daie to daie, least his wrath be hot against you, and he make you pertakers of the plagues of Chore and Abiram. Remember your olde escapes that haue past you, consider of their falls that are decayed by you, and your selues if you haue anie contrition, and compunction of heart, wil lament the generall misfortune with me. Did you arise of nothing? Were you calde from base degrée to high estate? From poore seruants wer you made rich masters? Why, your goods make answere, saying, you haue more then you can well spend, and I deeme the greater your talent is, the more you haue to answere for: but weigh in your selues, howe this greate masse of money grew vnto you: you must count that this Farme came to your handes by the forfayture of such a Lease: this money became yours, by the vertue of such an Obligation: you haue scrapte vp this ready coyne, by making Centum pro cento: nay, you haue vndone these manye poore Gentlemen, onely by iuriching your selfe. Too true it is, (alas) (and wisedome priuately bewaileth it, to looke into your crueltie, and Gentlemenes folly) that [Page] many houses are decayed by your meanes, and that you are Lords of that, which should be the portion of more profitable subiects: whose miserie driueth them to trie conclusions in all places: and both to forsake their Countrey, I pray God not to alter their conscience.

Nay in these extremities that they are driuen into, which of you either reléeueth them? or comforteth them in their sorrowes? so farre are you (you worldlings) frō lessening their miseries, as that (Perillus like) you inuent new tortures, to driue them from your doores, calling them varabonds, and bride well birdes who in very truth were your best Masters and setters vp? but your selues with Perillus shall tast of the engines you haue prouided for others, and the Lorde shall pittie the fatherlesse, and comfort the afflict [...]d, when that dreadfull daye shall come, in which the heauens shall be opened, and the Sonne of man shall come to iudgement: how will the case then stand with you? shall your welth then acquite you? No, no; the Iudge is not partiall, he is iust in all his dooings, and true in all his sayings. In that day the horrour of your conscience shall condemne you; Sathan whom you haue serued shall accuse you; the poore afflicted members of Christ shall beare witnesse agaynst you; so that in this horror and confusion, you shall desire the mountaines to fall vpon you, and the hils to couer you from the fearfull indignation of the Lord of hostes, and the dredfull condemnation of the Lambe Iesus. When it shalbe found out, that you wer rich, yet reléeued none: that you were of wealth, yet comforted none: that you rather replenished the prisons, then released the prisoner: that your life be sound sawced with crueltie, and no one action sauoring of mercie: the Lord shal place you among the goates, & pronounce his Ve against you, he shall thunder out this sentence, Goe you cursed into euerlasting fire, prepared for the [Page] diuell and his angeles. This is the reward of wickednesse, this is the punishment of crueltie: look vpon this therefore (you worldly minded men,) and consider of these sayings: harden not your hearts, but be you conuerted, reléeue the poore, be harboursome, restore to the owner that you haue wrested from him, and turne, turne, turne vnto the Lord (I beséech you) least you perish in your owne abhominations: and to conclude, accompt of me as your wel wisher, who for publike commoditie haue opened your inconueniencs, and for brotherly amitie, counsailed you to call your selues home: and I beséech yo as spéedely reclaime you from your errors, as I doo brotherly admonish you of your escapes. How happie were I that hauing lesse cause, might haue lesse matter to write on? And haplesse are you, if not won with these warnings, you giue more occasion to be written on: now stay you where you are, & alter your natures, and where you were accustomed to doo ill, now acquaint your selues to follow goodnes; and then it will thus fal out, that I which exclaimed vpon you for your vices, will then honour you for your vertues: & where in common assemblies your name growes odious, in publike audience, you maye be praised for your good life. The Lord send our Gentlemen more wit, our vsurers more conscience, and vngodlinesse a fall: so Nobilitie shall not decay, but the sinner shal be reclaimed, and wickednes confounded.

FINIS.

¶THE DELECTABLE Historie of Forbonius and Prisceria.

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IN Memphis (the chiefest citie of Aegypt) a place most renowmed by reason of the opulencie of the princes that haue gouerned that Monarchie: at such time as Sisimithres was head Priest of the same, & Hidaspes gouernour of the Prouince, a noble Gentleman called Forbonius (highly accounted of for his vnreprouable prowesse, and among the best sort allowed of for his vnspekable vertues) made his abode, whose tender yeares not yet subiect to the experience of more riper iudgement (as the winding Iuie about the stately Oke) entangled it selfe with many amorous obiects, now allowing this choice, now approuing y• person, straight admitting a third. But the fates hauing registred his last opiniō in euerlasting & permanent destinie, made his manifolde aspectes (as yet not stayed) to light vpon one séemely impression, and to allow of but one onely paragon: yet so sealed they his opinion, as (if it be true that the gods euer were lasciuious) I thinke the chiefest commaunder of the Heauens might vouchsafe of such dalliance, and be onely amorous in this, that knowing heauenly perfections to be resident in earthly substance, he would either borrow fire of Venus to make the creature pliable, or carrie fire into the heauens from whēce Promotheus first did steale lightning. Fauorable [Page] was the climate, that allowing vniuersally to all the creatures it compassed onely, blacknesse, vouchsafed Prisceria (Forbonius mistres) such swéet fauor, who borne of noble parents within the citie, (as of Solduuius, vizeroie of that Prouince adioyning to the citie, and Valduuia, daughter and heire of Theagines of Greece, the copartener of sorrowe with Caricleala, the straunge borne childe of the Aegyptian king:) not onely match al titles of honour with exquisitenesse of proportion, but also so coupled the perfections of the minde, with the proportion of the bodie, as rather nature might disdaine her industrye, not art repent her of the dowrie she had granted her: this sweet fixed Comet coasted Forbonius affectiōs, who like the careful Marriner, hauing (amidst the frostie night) sought for his Loade starre, and at breake of morning (his eies almost dazled with looking) found it out: so our noble young Gentleman, hauing past ouer many personages wt a slight ouer looke, at last finding out his mistres alotted him by fate, yéelded willinglye vnto importunitie of the Destinies, and wonne altogether to bée subiect, béeing captiued with fancie, hée applyed himselfe wholye to the accomplishment of his desires, and the attainment of his mistresse fauour: and for that the Goddesse of loue is plyable to all benignitie, as not suffering a true seruitour to bée long vnrewarded: it so fortuned, that she prosperously furthered our noble Aegyptian in his purpose, preferring him by opportunitie to the sight of his desired pleasures: for the propinquitie of their abode was such, as that Priscerias chamber windowe, had a prospect into Forbonius garden, by which meanes, the Gentleman in his meditations might beholde his mistres, and Priscer [...] (beeing by the equitie of the destinies prefigurated to straunge misfortune) might haue occasion to looke, and séeing, might loue: but as this conueniencie was fauourable one waie, so was the frowarde disposition of [Page] the parents, vntoward on the other parte. for Solduuius, (whether lead thereto by appointment, or driuen to the exigent, by some former mallice borne by the progenitors of Forbonius) had neither a lyking to the youth, nor a longing to haue his daughter marryed: eyther lead by couetousnesse, for that he woulde not stresse his coffers, or by enuie, for that he contemned Forbonius: yet what is concluded secretly amidst the heauens, cannot be circumuented with mans circumspection: for Forbonius as one which depended onely on the fauour of Prisceria, though fortune had hereft him of occasion to inioy, yet would not he be seuered from the benefite to beholde her whom he loued: who warmed with the same fire, in increasing his flame, kindled her owne fancie, & being as willing as the other to procure remedie to her passion, with manye chaunge of coulours, and sundrye swéete aspects, opened that to her seruant, which he wished for in his mistres: who (with like sorrowes requiting euerie circumstance) as one willing and borne to attempt: at such time as Prisceria solitarily solaced her selfe at her windowe: in mournefull melodye (making his Lute tunable to the straine of his voice) he recorded this Sonet.

THE Turtle pleased with his she compeare,

With sweet aspects, and many a turning lure,

Describes the zeale in tearmes should well appeare,

If nature were so gratious to assure

The silly bird with speech as well as I:

Who stopt of speech by turnes my woes descrie.

And though perhaps my tearmes by distance be,

Seaioynd from thee: I wis my mou [...]nfull mone,

Doth pearce thine eares, and Eccho tells for me,

In sowre reports: would she and I were one.

[Page]For whom I liue, and whom I onely loue,

Whose sweet aspects my dying fancies moue.

And if the aire by yeelding calme consent.

Make sweet Prisceria priuie to my suite,

Vouchasafe deere sweet, that beautie may relent,

And graunt him grace, whom distance maketh [...]uter

So either hope shall make me climbe the skie,

Or rude repulse enforce my fancies flie.

Prisceria not altogether priuie to the report, yet concluding all purposes to hir owne fantasie, conceyuing by his manifolde sighes, aspectes, and motions, wherevnto he applyed his actions, with a solempne sighe, as wishing him present, and a séemely bent, as requiting his curtesie, betooke hir selfe to hir pillowe, where comparing euerye accident together, both of the zeale shée bare to Forbonius, and of the profer he proffered to her, she brake out into these spéeches.

Alasse (vnhappie Prisceria) what vntoward destinie hath befallen thée? That in thy flowring yeares and prime of beautie, thou art become a thrall to vncertaine pleasure, neyther knowing from whence the errour first sprong, nor by what Treacles it may at last bée expelled. If it bée that nature enuying my perfections hath allotted mée this purgatorie, that hauing at free becke all the benefites of Fortune, yet I should with inwarde bondes bée inchained with the holdefast of fancie. Alasse that in prefixing the torment, shée hath not proffered a remedye, or in bestowing an vlcer, hath not vouchsafed a corrasiue. Howe straungely am I martyred, sillye maide that I am? That by one onelye looke haue conceyued such an impression, as neyther arte can alter with medicine, nor time eate out with continuaunce.

Woe is mee that I loue, yet fortunate am I [Page] that I hate not, for by the one, I am depriued of lybertie: by the other, I shall onerpasse the sorrow by surenesse. Yet are thy thoughts more fauorable to thée Prisceria, then the successe in thy loue will be fortunate. Thou louest Forbonius, and why? for his vertue: yet thy father hateth him vpon olde grudges, with whom when rancour preuayleth, what may be more lookt for, then contempt and denyall? But Forbonius séeketh Priscerias fauor, not Solduuius friendship: but Prisceria cannot enioy Forbonius, without Solduuius fauor. But Forbonius will by happie marriage conclude all mallice, but thy father hauing an enuious mind, will haue a suspitious eare. Alas why imagine I wonders in my fancy, hoping that those destenies (which inthralled my affection) wil subiect my fathers resolutions: since neither reason alloweth me any probablitie to worke vpon, neither hath Forbonius any motion as I sée to compasse ought: well, to the satisfaction of my freend, and to the contentment of my sorrowing hart: my freend shall know my zeale, and I will continue my affection, which being begun with so wonderfull causes, must néedes finish with a miraculous effect.

With these conclusions she fell a sléepe, leauing me to returne to Forbonius, who being tormented with the same furie, and troubled with equall fancie, séeing his light to be eclipsed, I meane his Mistresse vanished, began heauely to complaine himselfe in these or such lyke termes.

Alas you destinies, whose courses are ineuitable: how fortuneth it, that in bestowing casualities in mās life, you prescribe not meanes to preuent misfortunes? and onelye beginning to fester the heart, prefixe no presidents, whereby the humours may be expelled. If all things are to be referred vnto an ende, what may I wel imagine of my estate? who intercepted by all occasions, must either finish my misfortunes miserably, or desperately. [Page] O loue, iustly maist thou be counted licentious, whereas thou neither prescribest limites to thy selfe, to inthrall: nor meanes to thy subiects to attain libertie. But why exclaime I on him, that hath blest me with a benefit? as though the fate that made Forbonius happie in louing, cannot establish his successe, as that it shall not be measured by misfortune. I glorie in the benefit of my martirdome, since a certain inward hope assureth me, that diuine beautie cannot be sequested from iust pittie, nor a tried seruice in loue, requited with a disdainfull hate. But foolish man that I am, how maye it be, that in séeking beautie, I labour not to attaine it? & desiring to enioy a benefit, I attempt not to make triall of my Mistresse bountie? Why, by last nights becke she vouchsafed some shew of acceptaunce: and that may as well be of reproofe as lyking. (O Forbonius,) it is a silly hope that is conceiued by signes, either attempt further, or perswade thy selfe of no sauour. Her father (silly wretch) enuieth thée, and thinkest thou to compasse his daughter? alas, faint hope is this when as those that should build vp, doo destroy: when such as shoulde perswade, doo diss wade: when as he that dooth commaund most earnestly, dooth forbid. But loue hath no respect of consanguinitie, but hauing onely relation to him which he fauoureth, delighteth onely in the possession of his choyce, yet is not Forbonius, sure she loueth: well, I sée he that will be fortunate, must hazard, and that man that will be gracious in his Mistresse eye, must by outward attempts and vnaccustoured purposes, séeke to confirme his happinesse.

Wherevpon (vpon sundry conclusions) he inserred thus, that the next day, by certaine rare attemptes, hée would either finish that he had so long sought for, or perish in the perfourmance of his enterprise: and the day seruing to attempt that which he imagined by night, he bethought himselfe of the Cymnosophists of y• countrey, [Page] among whom remembring one of singular experience, and notable lerning, he resorted vnto him, opening first, how he was inthralled by fancie, how precluded by all occasions especially by the fathers disdaine, next, how some opportunitie serued him, lastly how the agony tormented him, desiring the Philosopher, whose wisedome coulde sée into all causes, to search out the fatall Exigent of his loue. Appollonius (for so the Gymnosophist was called) hauing calculated the Gentlemans natiuitie, and séeing some planets retrogate: couering the asperitie of the destenies, with the hidden secrecie of an Artist, discoursed thus.

O Forbonius, if as Socrates did his golde, thou drown thy affections, it would follow that with him thou shuldest enioy frée libertie of thy selfe, and not suffer thy affects to rule thy reason. Art thou bewtiched by Circes? of a humane shape hast thou gotten a beastly forme? of a man borne to reasonable actions, wilt thou now swallow an vnreasonable misfortune? If many cares be the decayers of the minde, if many sorrowes the consumers of the body, better were it by day to studie the lyberall Sciences, then at such time as we shoulde imploye our selues to honourable attempts, to become vnhonourably licentious. Alas Forbonius considering what a louer is, what a louer suffereth, what a louer séeketh, I finde the person idle minded, I finde his patience an insupportable sorrow, I finde himselfe not himselfe, in y• he is vnreasonable. The daily actions of a louer are discommendable, the night exclamations so odious, as that they in this cōuert nature, who shadowing y• world with darknes, limitting each creature his rest, yet they euen in y• time labor in out-cries, in which they shuld take conuenient rest. My good friend, y• gretest wisdome is to measure euery attēpt wt his casualties, & if ought happen y• may séeme impossible, to cast off the rayne, and suffer it to passe in that sorme it was concluded in.

[Page]Thou louest (Forbonius,) better wer it thou didst loath: for by loathing thou canst but be comp [...]ed vnnaturall, but by louing thou mayst fortune to be vnfortunate. If all thinges be ordered by the higher powers, it is vayne you must conclude to infringe what is concluded on, if the destenies haue appoynted, that Forbonius shall not be happie in inioying Prisceria, Forbonius is not reasonable in suing for Prisceria. Unhappie Paris in Helen, though fortunate in inioying her beautie: but when loue begins with a fading benefit, it endeth with an euerlasting sorrow. The conclusion of a wise man must be, to yéelde to the necessitie of Fate, and to continue contented with that which cannot be altered by succession. Tell me by the immortall Gods, my good friend I beséech thée, what happines conceiuest thou possible to follow, either in enioying thy Lady, or finishing thy loue? Alas, the greatest swéete is a continuall sower, and after many vnfortunate repulses, a sodain misfortune makes an ende of many a yeares courting. I speake all this to this ende (my Forbonius,) because I would preuent that by counsell in thée, which otherwise (if thou follow thine owne lure) will be a confusion to thy selfe. Thou comest to me for counsell to compasse loue, and I would confirme thée, that thou shouldest auoyd the occasions of following loue. Thou wouldest by my meanes strayne arte to subdue nature, yet I labour both to direct by arte, and to suppresse by nature. Truly (my good friend) looking but to the hidden secretes of nature, I finde thée subiect to manye misfortunes, and no way to be remedied but by one only vertue. Thou shalt (after long toyles) compasse that thou hopest for, yet when thy greatest plesures begin to take the originall: euen then shall they finde their exigent. Since therfore the reuolutions of the heuens conclude, that by onely continent forbearaunce, thou shalt be disburdened of many misfortunes, I beséech thée lette this [Page] transitorie pleasure be accompted off as it is, and finish vp thy loue with my counsell: so shalt thou be fortunate in preuenting destenie, and continue in happines, wher too much loue may make thee vnluckie.

Forbonius lead by the inconstant opinion of his young yeares, not waying the graue and fatherly councell of Appollonius, aunswered him thus.

O Father, when the wound is giuen, it is ill counsayling how to auoyd the stripe, and when the heart is captiuated, there can be but small recouery by counsell: how wer it possible for me to restrain that in my selfe, which the Gods could not limit in their Deities? Easie it is for the whole Phisition to counsell the sick patient, but when y• extremitie wringeth excessiuely, none bideth the martirdome but the afflicted. O Appollonius my minde measureth not the iniquitie of fate, neyther doo I séeke limits for that, which by no direction can be exterminated from out my heart. So that good father rather respect my present sute, then my future discommoditie, and by your counsell make ende to my sorrowes: whereby it will thus come to passe, that enioying the pleasure I long wish for, I may more boldlye beare the assault of froward fortune when it commeth. If it be onely death, that my enemie Fate threteneth me with, let me enioye this benefit, as for Fortune, I will be friende to her enemie, the which is the graue, and acquaynting my soule but with the onely Idea of my Mistresse, thinke my selfe as happie, as they that haue walkt the Elisian fieldes, a long space to their content.

Appollonius willing to doo him good, yet sorrie hée could not preuaile with his counsaile, at length began thus.

Since my Forbonius thou wilt be ruled by no counsayle, thou must be pertaker of thine owne sorrowe. As for thy request, I will so satisfie thée, as not onely thou [Page] shalt at thy pleasure conceiue thy Mistresse minde, but also open vnto her the secrettes of thy heart, by which meanes thou shalt héerein haue accomplishment of thy wish, though in so dooing thou shewe but lyttle wisedome. Wherevpon, resorting to his studdie, he brought foorth a mirrour of notable operation, a practicke in prospectiue, which deliuering to Forbonius, he commended it thus.

O my friend, I deliuer thée that héere to féede thy humour, which was composed to comprehend Arte. In this myrrour thou maist after thou hast written thy minde: taking the Sunne beame, send the reflection to thy mistresse eye, wherby she may as legeably read thy letters, as if they were in her handes, and by thy instructions made priuie to the secrets of thy glasse, retourne thine aunswere in that very forme in which thou sendest. For the rest, I leaue it to your discretions, and good fortune, wishing all things to fall out as prosperouslye in your loue, as you would, and as I wish.

Our noble youth (In amours) hauing furnished himselfe of that he sought for, repayred vnto his studie, where deuising in what tearmes he might sollicite his Mistres, at last he cyphered out his sorrowes in this sequell.

THat fancie that hath made me thrall to thy beautie (sweete Prisceria) commendeth my submission to thy good grace: beséeching thee to be as fauourable in ministring a remedie, as thy beautie was readie to procure my thraldome. I make no resist in this my louing torment, but onely yéeld my self subiect to y• impression. Maye it therefore please thée (swéete Prisceria) to be as beneficial in this, as the Gods are in their bounty, who for euery faithfull interatie, returne a gratefull satisfaction. And heerein maist thou sée my faith to be stedfast, [Page] since Arte it selfe serueth opportunities, and ministreth me both a meanes to open my hidden sorrowes, and thée a messenger to bewray thy silent secrets. I beséech thée (by the swéete statues that are builded for the Goddesse that is honoured in Paphos,) to be as iust in returning fauour, as I am forwarde in bewraying my fancie: so shalt thou haue the possession of him, that is by destinies appoynted thy assured beads-man, and I enioy those plesures, in which I may be only fortunate. Till then I must write my self as I am, The most vnhappiest louer that liueth.

Forbonius.

This cyphered out in faire charecters, and disposed in such termes as his fancie then prefixed him, he tooke his way into his garden, waiting some necessarye opportunitie, to put his purposed attempts in practise, and to bewray his woes to Prisceria: who woūded with the remembraunce of Forbonius perfections, and séeing no waye but his presence a meane to expell sorrowe, betooke her selfe to her accustomed prospecte, and with longing lookes she leuelled at his loue, which was alredie stroken with her beautie.

The Gentleman fitted by these conuenient occasions beganne his Philosophicall demonstration, and taking his aspecte as necessarilye as hée might, hée presented Prisceria with his pensiue submission: who confirmed by so conuenient opportunitie, betaking her selfe with all spéede possible to her studie, and by a becke charging him with no lesse dispatch to giue attendaunce: she gaue annswere to his amorous intreaties with this gracious affabilitie.

[Page]THe Climate Forboniurs where vnder I was [...], (beléeue me) either hath pre [...]gured me the deste [...]i [...] to be inamoured by thée, or thée the subiect that shoulde besot me: and truly héerein the working of the Gods are secret, who imploy such thoughts in me, as now by thy letters I finde wrought in thée, making a vnitie in both those hearts, wh [...] by reason of parents enui [...]s, are like to finde fatall conclusions. And whereas by necessitie of fate I finde my selfe wholly captiuated to thy pleasures, I doubt not but that God whome wée honour for his brightnesse, and who by his lightening ministreth to our misfortunes, will be fauourable in our procéedings. For me, if thy constancie be such as my true zeale is, I beséech thée by the same Godddesse to succour me, by whome I found my selfe first inthralled and made subiect to thée: meane while I will write as thy selfe, and rest as I am. The most vnhappiest louer that lyueth.

Prisceria.

These conclusions being ministered with the same aspectes they were profered, the two poore couple had no other meanes to noate the effecte of their priuate ioyes, but onely by silent smiles, gracious regardes, and trickelyng teares, and such lyke amorous actions, each one wishing the other, either happie in possessing their delyght, or fortunate, if by death they were reléeued of their sorrowe: and being intercepted by the closure of the euening, they betooke themselues both of them to their restlesse pillowes, concluding vpon many purposes, how to finish their languishing and tormenting martirdome.

[Page] Forbonius as one born to attempt, concluded with himselfe, considering how fauourably all occasions fawned vpon him) to attempt y• stealing awaie of Prisceria: who poore soule in carefull dreames imagining of her dayes fancies, was forestaled of all fauour by the vnhappie approch of her father, who furnished with all worldlye policies to preuent what he mislyked, and compasse that he suspected: perceiuing by his daughters solome aspects, some secret sorrow y• troubled her, hauing remembred that axiome of the Philosophers, that dreames are the prefigurations of dayes sorrowe, watched his time so néerely, that euen at that verie instant he entered the chamber of his daughter, when drowned in her swéet delightfull dreames, she begā at his entrie to cry [...] thus. O fortunate Forbonius! which her father marking verie precisely, and concluding wherevpon the sigh tooke his holde fast, awaking his daughter on a sodaine, verie cunningly compassed her thus.

O my Prisceria, let it not seeme straunge vnto thee, to beholde thine aged Fathers vnaccustomable accesse, since he is now perplexed with vnacquainted feares. Alasse my daughter, thy father séeing thée beautifull, is not carelesse of thy comfort, neither can he that laboured to bring thée to lyght, suffer shée to passe thy dayes in loathsome mislyke. At this instaunt when I entered thy chamber, in thy dreame (as me séemed) thy soule betokening (as it shuld séeme) some daies sorow or plesure, exclaimed thus: O fortunate Forbonius, thou knowest how hatefull the person thou diddest name is to thy father, who if he be fortunate in thy dowrie, I loue him: I shal estéeme him vnfortunate in the fauour thou wilt assure him: who béeing a collop of my [...]lesh, wilt not allowe of that, which is loathsome to thy father: O Prisceria Solduuius séeth, and thy secrete dreames bewraie that the fortunacie of Forbonius, is eyther vnfortunate for thy selfe, or not allowable by thy Fa [...]hers opinion. [Page] Thy chaunge of constitution, thy hidden sorrowe, my swéet child made me suspitions, but now the verie true messenger of thy minde confirming me, I must without circumstance conclude, that Prisceria loueth her fathers enimie, that Prisceria desireth Forbonius fauour, and detesteth her fathers choice, which if it be so; O my daughter, I feare me thy loue will not be so fauourable, as my disdaine bitter, wherefore if thou art intangled, since thou knowest my opinion, forbeare, or if no wisedome will conclude thée within limites, my displeasure shall exclude thée from out all benefit of my fauour. Choose now Prisceria, whether with calme perswasions thou wilt yéeld to my bent, or by vnaccustomed displeasure bée pertaker of thy Fathers wrath.

Upon these conclusions, Prisceria all abashed, shaking of the drowsinesse of her dreaming, made aunswere to Solduuius in these tearmes.

These straunge suppositions, my good Father, argue the slender opinion of your self, who by the vncertainest signs y• may be, confirme your opinion as you please. In my dreames you said I called Forbonius fortunate, and may it not bée, that as my tongue vttered y• it thought not, your minde immagineth that which is not? counting euerye lyght shadowe a substaunce, and euery little similitude of truth, an vndoubted demonstration. Did I call thine enimie fortunate? Truely Father I feare me I might iustly conclude it, for he poore Gentleman little dreameth on displeasures, when at such time as rest should occupie your sences, you most trauaile in your rancour: by certaine tokens as you saie, you conclude, that I am affectionate, and by this silly conclusion of a dreame, you inferre an vndoubted trueth, that I am enamoured with Forbonius, and if perhaps the necessitie of the fates be such, Prisceria shall finde her selfe happie in louing Forbonius, by whose meanes [Page] her Father may cease rancour, and take rest, and his daughter satisfied with that she séeketh for, be no farther troubled with dreaming fantasies.

Solduuius perceyuing by these spéeches the certaintie of his daughters affection, as one altogether enraged, calling vp his wise, and raising his seruaunts, left the [...]illye maide all amased at his sodaine departure, whereas the olde man exclaiming vppon the disobedience of his daughter, and thundering out many reuenges against poore Prisceria, caused his horses to be saddeled, and perforce (contrarie to her expectation) made her bée conuayed to Farnusium, a mannor house of his owne, a place for the solytarinesse more fit for a Tymon, then conuenient for a beautifull Ladie, the onely companie there being shepheards, who vpon the Vast mountaines recorded the praise of the Countrie fauourer Pan, and the rurall amitie betwéene them, and their Countrie lasses. Thus from stately Court, from the regards of her swéet friend, from the plesures that follow the Citie, her companions were rurall maidens, her retinue forlicke shepheardes: whose slight rapacitie not yéelding anie comfort to allaie the Gentlewomans sorrowings, made her (to her more hart griefe) continue her pensiuenesse, and sup vp her conceiued sorrow in silence. But to repeat the moane on the other side that amorous Forbonius made, when hy certain report he had notice of his mistres departure, were wonderfull, who béeing in himselfe altogether confounded, not knowing where to finde her out which was the onely mistres of his fantasie, Lord with how many sighes breathed he forth his sorrowe, and compassed on euerie side with dispairing ioyes, in the verie same garden where tosore hee repeated his pleasures, hée in these waylefull tearmes recounted his miseries.

Alas vnfortunate Aegyptian, whose faithful affectiōs ar [...] so immutable, as thy naturall all colour is vnstainable. [Page] How iniurious are the destinies? that graunting thée life, they dayly hasten thy destruction, that vouchsafing thée plesure, they sus [...]er it not to be permanent: that admitting thée the benefit of beauties good grace, they depriue thée of the possession and blessing of that thou desirest. Alasse what shall befall mée? when the glorie of my eyes are dimmed? when the pleasures of my heart are determined? whē she whom I loue néerest, is farther off frō my presēce? whē y• iniurious repulses of y• father, makes euery attempt of Forbonius vnfortunate. Wo is me, what way may I imagin to make an end of my miserie? Should I with dispairing rashnesse finish vp the Catastrophe of my troubles? Should I béeing bereft of her by whom I liue, dispossesse my selfe of that she most doth like? Should I in making my selfe onelye fortunate by y• alaie of my sorrows, leaue Prisceria to her daily mournings, both to lament my deceasure, & her frow [...]rd destinie? no Forbonius, it is but vaine quiet that is to her discontentment, who béeing equally inthralled wt thy selfe, will as willingly be pertaker of thy torment as thy self. But why waile I thus in feminine sorow, when my happinesse is to be accomplished by manly attempt? Solduuius rigour hath caused Priscerias absence, yet cannot the fathers displeasure determine the daughters loue, she liueth to thy wish Forbonius, she loueth to thy weale Forbonius, she wilbe cōstant til death Forbonius, why shouldest thou then leaue her vnsought for, Forbonius? Attempt vain man, to seke out thine assured, let not the distance of place disanull thy good hap? Solduuius banishment is concluded within the limites of Aegypt, and since it is so, either Forbonius will attaine her he desireth, or reuenge the vniust rigour of an iniurious Father.

Upon this resolution, as a man quite dispossessed of himselfe, he hasted to Apollonius, recounting vnto him how all things haw fortuned, beséeching him (not [Page] without foison of t [...]ares) to séeke but by art where Prisceria was conuersant, and to direct him by counsell, who altogether was confounded with dispaire. Apollonius by exteriour [...]gnes conceiuing the interiour heartesgriefe, and séeing the poore young Gentleman martyred so miraculously, comparing times and reuolutions, attained to the knowledge of her aboad, and concluding in himselfe to comfort him, which almost dispaired, hee spake thus to Forbonius.

My good friend, whence groweth it, that neyther the nobilitie of thy auncestors? nor thy forepassed attempts? neither the benefit of thy mistres fauour can confirme thée, but that thou wilt be carefull for that which thou hast alreadie almost compassed. Pluck vp your heart my swéete Forbonius, for thy Prisceria is not farre from [...]hée. Farnusium a mannor house of her Fathers, seated East out of this Citie, whereas she is so circumspectly lookt into, that by anie meanes, vnlesse by secret and conuenient pollicie, thou canst come to the accomplishment of thy desire. Thou must therefore attyred altogether like a shepheard, depart this citie, and by some conuenient meanes procure the kéeping of some one Farmers shéepe, which is resident among those mountaines, by whose meanes thou shalt fall in acquaintance with the garden of thy mistres, called Sotto, and hauing conuenient occasion to satisfie thy affection, possesse thy selfe of y• thou hast long desired.

Forbonius concluding his replie with hartie thanks, sodainly departed, & remembring himselfe of one Corbo, a tenaunt of his, which had his mantion house verie conueniently, seated hard by the mannor house of Soldunius, he hastely shaped his iourney vnto him, & making him priue to y• he desired, & swearing him to be constant & continue secret, he betooke himselfe to y• kéeping of his tenants shéepe, & not forgetting to driue his flocke néere vnto the lawnd wheras Solduuius seruants grased their [Page] shéepe, he so demean [...]ed himselfe, that not onely he attayned the fauor of Sotto which he sought for, but also for his curteous affabilitie was accoūted of amōg y• whol [...] troup of heards men for y• best singer, & y• tunablest Musition. His Aeglogs were so delectable, & the deliuery of them so delicate. Whervpon by good fortune it so fel out, y• Forbonius vnder the coulourable name of Arualio, was desired by Sotto, to resort vnto y• mānor house, who informed him of all y• hapned, telling him of the careful demeanour of his sorowing young mistres, who pleased with nothing but with solitarie musicke, pined her selfe awaie wt melancholy, & not without cause, (said he,) for my old master hath forbiddē me y• admitting of any one to her presence, not suffering her to passe the limits of my warie eie: nor allowing her to walke wtout y• castel walles for her recreation. For my sake therfore chaunt her some melodie, & resort with me to a conuenieet arbour within our garden, whereas shée walking for her recreation, may perhaps take some delight in thy sorowfull mournings, in y• they most fit her fantasie. Forbonius as willing to wend, as he desirous to perswade, accompanied Sotto to Farnusium, wher hauing a place appointed him to apply his Aeglogs, and the Goddesse before him whom he should deuine vpon, hee vnder these secrets described his passions.

AMidst these Mountaines on a time did dwell,

A louely shepheard who did beare the bell.

For swéete reports and many louing layes:

Whom while he fed his flocke in desart wayes,

A netheards daughter deckt with louely white,

Behelde and loude the lasse Corinna hight.

Him sought she oft with many a sweete regard,

With sundrie tokens she her sutes preferd,

Her care to kéepe his féeding flocke from stray,

Whilst carelesse he amidst the lawnes did play.

[Page]Her swéete regards she spent vpon his face,

Her Countrie cates she sent to gaine his grace,

Her garlands gaie to decke his temples faire,

Her doubled sighs bestowd on gliding aire,

Her pleasant kisse where she might steale a touch,

Corinnas zeales to Corulus was such.

He wanton shepheard glorying in her sute,

These signes of zeale to folly did impute:

Not waying of her many louing sightes,

Her watrie eyes, her secret moane by nights:

Her carelesse comfort in her fruitfull ewes,

Her monefull Aeglogs full of carefull shewes,

But scorning that, (which might that Godhead moue,

Who in a shepheards forme, for Ioues behoue,

Did charme the watchman of the heifer faire,

For whose behoofe the thunder left the aire.)

He left the place wher [...] she did loue to bide,

And draue his flocke another way beside.

Whose dire disdaine (the God that kindles loue,

And makes impressions straungly from aboue

Misliking) strake with fancie at that stower,

The silly shepheard wounded by his power.

Now sought for that which he tofore did shun,

And now the heat of fancie first begun,

To straine a yéelding in his restlesse minde:

Such are the wounds that passe from fancie blinde,

That Corulus will now Corinna wee,

Though earst he loathd and scorned so to dooe.

Now she that sought with many a swéete aspect,

Is sude to now by him that did neglect.

Now bountifull is swéete Corinnas grace,

Now like the Sunne in welkin shines her face,

Her eyes like Gemini attend on [...]oue,

Her stately front was figured from aboue,

Her daintie nose of Iuorie faire and shéene,

Bepurfurate with ruddie roses béene.

[Page]Her cherie lip [...] doth daunt the morning hiew,

From whence a breath so pleasant did insew,

As that which laide faire Psiches in the vayle,

Whome Cupide woode and wo [...]d to his auayle.

Within the compasse of which hollowe swéete,

Those orient ranks of siluer pearles doe méete,

Prefixing lyke perfection to the eie,

As siluer colde amidst the summers skie:

For whence such wordes in wisdome couched be,

As Gods from thence fetch their Philosophie:

Her dimpled chin of Alablaster white,

Her stately necke where nature did acquite

Her selfe so well, as that at sodaine sight,

She wisht the worke were spent vpon her selfe,

Her cunning thus was showde vpon the shelfe:

For in this pile was fancie painted faire,

In either hand an asure pipe she bare:

By one repeating many a swéete consent,

By other comfort to the heart she sent.

From which a seemely passage there doth show,

To strangers pleasures that are plast alow,

Like to the forrowe Phaeton did leue,

Amidst the welkin when he did receiue,

His Fathers charge, and set the world on fire:

In this faire path oft paced sweete desire,

At euerie turne beholding with delight,

That Marble mount that did affect the sight.

Of virgins waxe the swéet impression was,

The cunning compasse thereof did surpasse,

For art concluding all perfections there,

Wrote this report, All graces bideth here.

Which Cupide spying built his mansion so,

As scorning those swéete graces to bestoe

O [...] mortall man, with bowe ibent doth waite,

Least Ioue should steale impressions by deceit.

[Page]And wondring at the [...] come [...] [...]ake,

In thought concludes it m [...]ter for the aire

Then mortall mould: next which the stately thies,

Like two faire compast marble pillers rise,

Whose white dooth staine the daintie driuen snow:

Next which the knées with lustie bent below

Conioynd with nerues and cords of Amber swéete,

This stately pyles with gladsome honour gréete,

Such stately knées as when they bend a lite,

All knées doo bend and boow with strange delyght.

Her calues with stranger compasse doo succéed,

In which the asures streames a wonder bréede,

Both art and nature therein laboured haue,

To paint perfection in her coulours braue,

Next which, the pretie ground worke of the pile,

Doth shew it selfe and wonder doth beguile,

The ioyntes whereof combind of Amber swéete,

With corall cords, yéeld bent to seemely féete.

From which, whose li [...]t to lift his gasing eye,

Shall greater cause of wonder soone espie.

When on the backe he bends his wauering looke,

In which the worke and taske Diana tooke,

When with Arachne for the prise she straue,

Both art and nature there excelled haue.

Where from Pigmalions image séemely white,

Where close conueiaunce passing Gordians plight,

Where louely Nectar drinke for all the Gods,

Where euerie grace is stained there by ods.

Will not content with gasing looke for more,

And spie those armes that stand his sight before,

Which for their mould the Aegyptian wonders passe,

Which for their beautie staine the Christall glasse,

Which in their motion maister natures swéete,

Where bl [...]shing streames present a secrets meete,

Will now amazde, conclude at last of this,

That in the hands all grace concluded is.

[Page]Where Nature limits euer fatall time,

Where Fortune figures pleasure in her prime,

Whence spred those fingers tipt with Iuorie,

Whose touch Medusas turne may well supplie,

Where to conclude as now the shepheard déemes

All grace all beautie, all perfections séemes.

Thus Corulus with many secret thoughts,

D [...]aines on her whom erst he set at naughts:

And forst by scorch of inward shrowded fire,

He séekes for her his fancie did require.

Who fraught with woes in secret shrewdes renude,

Her silent griefe vnsure of that insude.

Her Corulus with warie search at last

At sodaine found: and as a man agast

At that he saw, drew backe with feare, and than

Remembring of his lwoes his sute began:

Of wéete Corinna blessed be the soyle

That yéelds thée rest amidst thy dayly toyle,

And happie ground whereon thou sa [...]est so:

Blest be thy flocke, which in these lawnes doo go,

And happie I, but hauing leaue to looke:

Which said, with feare he pawsd, and bloud forsooke

His [...] face, till she that wrought the fire,

Restorde the red, and kindled swéete desire.

And with a bashfull looke beholding him,

Which many months her pleasant foe had bin:

She cast her armes about his drooping neck [...],

And with her daintie fingers dawde him vp.

And kissing of his palie coloured face,

(Like as the Gods) by touch did soone displace

The sowre, that alterd the poore shepheards swéete,

When thus she gan her Corulus to gréete:

O louely shepheard happie be the hower,

In which (I know not by what secret power)

[Page]The Gods haue sent thée hether to thy frend,

Alas what griefe should Corulus offend?

Whom fairest Nimph might well a liking lend.

Thy grasing Ewes with vdders full of milke,

With fruitfull [...]leece and wooll as softe as silke,

Take glory in the fatnesse of this soyle

And praise theyr Mastres care and busie toyle:

And now accuse thée of thy drooping mone,

Tis but enough for me to wayle alone

For why Corinna onely haplesse is.

Poore Corulus at last reuiude by this,

Gan sighing silence now to interrupt

And banish feare which did his hope corrupt.

And thus he said: O Nimph of beauties traine,

The onely cause and easer of my paine:

Tis not the want of any worldly ioy,

Nor fruitlesse bréed of Lambes procures my noy,

Ne sigh I thus for any such mishap:

For these vaine goods I lull in fortunes lap.

But other gréefes and greater cause of care,

As now Corinna my tormenters are.

Thy beautie Goddesse is the onely good,

Thy beautie makes mine eyes to streame a flood,

Thy beautie breakes my woonted pleasant sleepe,

Thy beautie causeth Corulus to wéepe:

For other ioyes they now but shadowes be,

No ioye but sweete Corinnas loue for me.

Whereon I now beséech thée, by that white

Which staines the lilly, and affects my sight,

By those faire locks whereas the graces rest,

By those swéete eyes whereas all pleasures nest:

Doo yéelde me loue, or leaue me for to die.

Corinna studious for to yeeld reply,

With many teares bedewd the shepheards face,

And thus at last she spake: O happie place.

[Page]The which the Gods appoynted for my good.

What blessed Nimph within this sacred wood

Hath pleaded poore Corinias lawfull cause▪

Or be they dreames that now my fancie drawes?

O Corulus ne reads [...] thou sue to me,

Nor spend the teares for to accepted be,

Since long ore this I would haue bent to bow,

If modest feare could well haue taught me how.

In happie bonds of Himen I am thine:

Ne plead thou grace to her that dooth incline.

Thus with a kisse she sealed vp the deed:

When as the shepheard glad of happie spéed

Embracing her he had desired long,

Gan call for grace to her he so did wrong.

Confirmed thus with mutuall glad consent,

They finisht vp the marriage that they ment.

Great was the day, and euery field compéere

Delighted in the pleasure of his déer [...].

Poore I alone in sad lamenting layes,

Depriued of the pleasure of my dayes,

In carefull tunes in briefe concluding thus:

O happie times and planets gracious.

When in a mirrour beautie did behold

The hidden woes, my muse could wel vnfold [...]

And with a liking looke shape some replie.

But woe is me, since fathers crueltie

In changed formes hath altred termes of sute,

And altering place hath made my Goddesse mut [...].

Who honouring Pan, may hap the person sée,

Whom habit strange perswades it should be me.

THis delectable Aeglogue finished by the amorous Forbonius gaue occasions to Prisceria to satisfie the thoughts that then troubled her fantasie. For confounded in her selfe, not knowing what to conclude of [Page] that she shepheard Arualio had reported, yet welnigh perswades that the reporter was he she liked off, with a séemely grace, not minding to incurre the lightest suspition, turning toward Forbonius, whose hand was on his half-pe [...]ie, shée say thus.

Gentle shepheard, that Nimph thou louest shuld alter from womanhood, that considering thy true zeale, & exquisite proportions, would not requite thy loyaltie, with the benefit of her loue. Truly Madame (aunswered the imagined Arualio, and I thinke my selfe gracious in this, that for her whom I loue I am enioyned this torment, wherevpon t [...]rning himselfe a side, and drying vp the teares which should bewray his fancie, he was at last knowen by Priscoria, who altogether amazed at the presence of Forbonius, forgerting weln [...]e the infortunacie she was intangled in, cast her armes about his necke, yet colouring with a séemly disdain to shadow her opinion, and blindfold subtill [...]otto, shée sayde thus. Truly shepheard, if I may preuaile with thy mistres, thou shalt not be vnrewarded for this curtesie: & Madame (said Forbonius) might I counsell your Ladiship, you should not sorrow for that maye be compassed at your pleasure.

This said, Sotto taking Arualio by the hand, tooke his leaue of his young Mistresse thus: My young Ladie, I as studious of your pleasure as maye [...] haue brought you this young shepheard to laugh at, & if his musick like you, you shall haue euery day at the least a lay or two. And héerin shalt thou doo me no small pleasure said Prisceria? & so with a séemly regard shaping a loth departure, y• two shepherds resorted to their flocks, Arualio altogether amazed at his mistres beautie, and Sotto very iocond he had fitted his young Ladies fancy so well: whervpon y• old shepheard, turning to our solitarie & distressed Arualio, said thus, What maks thee thus sollom my youthly compéere? cease to gréeue thy [Page] selfe about those thinges that may be compassed, if thou loue, time shal eate out that which Treacle cannot, and thou shalt either be fortunate in possessing hir thou desirest, or in ouerpassing thy passions with good gouernment, leaue loue to those that like her. Arualio not to séeke of curteous humanitie, gaue him this aunswere. O Sotto, it is not the loue that greeueth me, but the meanes to compasse loue: I labour not to attain loue, but to possesse the profits of my long seruice in loue: as for time, it may worke wonders in them that are repulsed: but when Cupid is gracious, and occasions vnfortunate, thinke you y• this is not a bitter sowre? Yea, but answered Sotto, & if it be so Arualio plucke vp thy sprights, and doubt thou not, but if thou prooue dilygent in pleasing my young mistresse, I meane not to be idle, if I may know whom thou likest of. As for that doubt not, said our disguised Forbonius, for since I know by thy onely meanes my loue is to be compassed, I wil not stick in so slight a pleasure to profit, when as by thy meanes I may onely succour my selfe. In such lyke termes passing ouer their werisome walke: At last they betooke themselues each of them to the folding of their sheep, for it was welnie night, and the Sunne was stéeped in the Ocean: whervpon Arualio the shepheard, becomming now Forbonius indéede, hasted him home vnto his Tenaunts house, making him both priuie of his happie [...]ortune, and concluding with himselfe howe to performe that he wished for, and for that long trauayle requireth some quiet, he betooke himselfe to rest: where recompencing al his nights wakings, with a quiet sleep: At dawne of day he returned in his counterfeit habite vnto the field, and vnfolding his flocke, he draue them into those pastures, that wer adioyning to Sottos walk: who no sooner spied Arualio, but saluting him very curteously, he earnestly intreated him, (setting all excuses [Page] apart) to go to Farnusium, and in the best sort that hée might to solace the vnfortunate Prisceria▪ who onely wayting that occasion, commending his flocke to the ouer-flight of the old man, & accompanied with Saracca the daughter of olde Sotto, he was presented to his desired, within the castle, who by the absence of Sotto, finding all occasions to serue her turne, hauing sent sillye Sarraca about some sléeuelesse arrant, she taking the occasion profered, said thus to Forbonius: Blest be that sweete conceipt of thine (O my friend) which to the vnfortunate rigour of my father, hath adapted so conuenient an end. Now maist thou with as great pleasures enioye thy desired, as with déepe perplexities thou hast sorrowed in her absence. Now neither distaunce can seuer vs from imbracing, nor the watchfull eye of my fether, intercept thée of thy wish. Sée héere thy Prisceria, who though the Fates worke neuer so contrarie, will liue to Forbonius, and onely loue Forbonius.

This said, with many kisses com [...]orting him which was almost ouercome with pleasaunt imaginations, she was returned this aunswere by her most assured fauourer.

O Prisceria, if ouerpressed with manye suspitious thoughts, if made pertaker of the infernall tortures in Phlegeton, if subiect to the punishment of the Daughters of Danaus, or affixed to the torture [...] martereth Titius, I should be confirmed by this onely benefit in opinion, and made constant in all misfortunes, yea, euen to ouercome the insupportable trauailes of the sisters, and be enabled with constancie to subdue all torments what so euer, by remembraunce onely of one gratious regard. It is neither thy fathers rancor swéet Prisceria, nor distance of place, nor any one occasiō what soeuer, can either sequester me of my hope, nor thee of the possession of thy wished: cast off therefore all doubt [Page] of after dole, & assure your self, that as this plesure hath his originall this present instant, so by my meanes ere long it shalbe continu [...]d for euerlasting mamory. Passing the time in such like pleasures, and ministering a remedie vnto each others torments, I cannot tell, whether by the iniquitie of destenie, or otherwise: Solduuius learning out Forbonius departure, and suspitious of his forward attempts, at that very instant arriued at Farnusium, when the two amorous couple, little doubting his sodaine approch, were coasted with this sower, in midst of all their sweete, that the enemie of their plesures euen then entred the Castle, when as it séemed the fates had prefixed them that conueniencie & opportunitie to allaye their long sorrowing. The brute of whose aduent brought to the eares of Prisceria, Lorde how she was confounded in her self, how dismaid was Forbonius at that instant, how at y• very time were they both astonied, when most circumspection should be had: so that scarce they had [...]en dried vp their teares, when as Solduuius entring the chamber, quicklye discouered the whole counterfaite (for iealous eyes inflamed with rancour pretermit nothing) wherevpon the olde man at first, nothing at all deluded by the straunge habite, spying out their procéedings, laying violent hands on Forbonius caused him forcibly to be conueyed to the stronge [...]ower in the Castle, and tourning himselfe to Prisceria, he began thus.

O thou wicked and vngracious mayd, degenerating from the Nobilitie of thy auncestours, and led by vnseemly affections, not directed by the likings of thy tender parents, in what tearmes shuld I accuse thee? or bewray my sorrowes? Woe is me, that am inforced to be an eie witnesse of mine owne sorow, & to behold y• with mine eyes, that I hate in my heart: Is this the reward of bréeding children? Is this the benefite that is reapt by issue? Are these the pleasures that befall Parentes? [Page] O Solduuius, happie hadst thou bene, if either Prisceria had béene vnborne, or thou vnmarried, by the one thou shouldest haue escaped this present miserie, by the other preuented the vntoward sorrow that now confoundeth thée. Is thy loue to be fixed there where I hate? or shuldest thou be amorous of him who is odious to thy Father? O vile wretch borne among the Hirean Tygres, which respecting not thy Fathers felicitie, ouerburthenest his olde yeares with vnlooked for calamitie: but if euer iust Gods pittied a lawfull complaint, I doubt not but they that minister iustice to all men, wil wreak the iniuries thou hast done to me.

Thus sayd, he sate down altogether confounded with melancholie. When as Prisceria finding occasion to speake for her selfe, began thus.

Who seeketh O father, to preuent the destinies, laboreth in vaine, and who indeauoureth to alter nature, as he striueth against the streame, so must he perish in his owne ouerwéening: the Gods haue concluded our loue, and will you being a creature séeke to infringe it? Alasse my father, why should my pleasure be your discomfort? or that by which I liue, proue that which most you hate? Doe not you héerein breake nature? who laie violent hands on your owne flesh, and séeke to alter that by rigor, that was ordained by diuine instinct? O lette your rancor ouerslip (my good father) and [...] humble sute preuailed with an honourable minde, cease to hate him whom I loue: and couple vs both together, whom the Gods hauing ioyned in an assured league of friendship, it cannot be but iniustice to alter their proceedings.

Soldu [...]tius not able to digest the furie of his passion, nor willing to weigh of the submissiue request of his daughter, interrupted her thus: And is it not sufficient or thee (vaine wench as thou art) to passe the limites of nature? but to continue thy error too? Thinkest thou to [Page] compasse me with teares, who without sighes cannot call to memorie thy escape? no Prisceria, both thou shalt sée, and that varlet shall knowe, that my displeasure wil not be finished but wt bloud, nor my anger satisfied, till I haue confounded him, who hath discomforted me. Whervpon flinging ont of the chamber in a great rage, and fastening both boltes and lockes he with his frame resorted to the imprisonned poore shepheard, his capitall enimie Forbonius, whom after he had taunted with these vniust tearmes, he procéeded further to this vniust reuenge: Thou cursed and abhominable caitife, is it not sufficient by the iniuries of thy Father Clunamos, to moue my patience, but that thou in person must violate my daughter? Thinkest thou that the Gods detest not these iniuryes? when as with wicked attemptes thou be witchest the daughter, and massacrest the Father? naie nether in iustice will they pretermit the offence, nor will nature suffer me to beare with thine errour: prepare thy selfe therefore to make him recompēce with thy bloud, whom thou hast troubled with thy attempt.

Forbonius confounded with sorrowe, and amazed at this austere iudgement, yet remembring the nobilitie that was alwayes accounted in him, aunswered him thus.

Alth [...]gh enraged rancour hath made thée passe the limits o [...] honour. (O Solduuius) yet passe not so farre in thy resolutions, as to staine the dignitie of thy person, with the martyrdome of a guitlesse Gentleman. If I did hate thy daughter, that lyttle enuye that grewe by my Fathers displeasure, might by reason grow to deepe and rooted mallice, but when I loue Prisceria, why shoulde I bée contempned of Solduuius? It should seeme that loue was not accompted lothsome among the gods, when as prefixing a punishment to all escapes, they prescribe an honour to this: chiefly concluding it to be [Page] a vertue: wherevppon thou must conclude, that eyther thou contemnest the decrees of the Gods, or measurest all thinges by thine owne mallice. Thou threatnest me with death (vaine man) and I weigh not the dissolution of my bodie: for this I assure thée, as long as I may liue, I will honour Prisceria, and béeing dead, my ghost shall persecute thée with reuenge, and prosecute my affections towarde my best beloued. So Prisceria lyue, Forbonius careth not to dye, the onely memorie of whome shall make mée constaunt in misfortunes, and willing to withstande the brunt of thy crueltie: wherevpon my conclusiō is, that if Solduuius for faithful assurance wil become a friendlye allower of Forbonius, he which by reason of the mallice of his Father had once cause to hate him, will now honour him, and that strife which separated two so noble families, shal now be finished in our happy marryage: if this like not, procéede as thou pleasest. In granting mée fauour, thou shalt finde honour, in bereauing mée of lyfe, thou shalt finish all my misfortunes.

The discourse of Forbonius thus ended, Solduuius began thus, after y• he had somewhat digested his cholar: Although Forbonius the iniuryes thou hast offered me, together with former displeasures, be sufficient to continue my resolution, yet weyghing with my selfe that it is vaine to alter that which is prefixed by destinye, wonne by reason which directeth all men, and by the tender loue I beare my Daughter, which shoulde preuayle with a Father: I yéelde thée thy loue to inioye in chast wedlocke, and wheres thou lookedst I shoulde bée thy tormentour, loe I am nowe contented to be thy vnlooked for Father. Wherevppon taking Forbonius by the hande, and conueying him to Priscerias chamber, hée confirmed the Gentleman in his former purpose, and his daughter of his assured sauour, [Page] vsing these kind of his intention: My daughter, that father that euen now hainously mislikt of thy louer, now gloryeth in thy lyking, & he which whilome hated Forbonius, now vouchsafeth him his son in lawe: wherevpon comfort your selues with mutuall solace, & to morrow we will to the Citie to finish vp y• ceremonies. The two louers compassed with incredible pleasures, & not able to suppresse the affections that possessed thē, but by breaking out into spéech: they both humbled thēselues to aged Solduuius, returning him by y• mouth of Forbonius these thanks. O noble gentleman, it may not be expressed by tongue, what I imagine in heart, who by your meanes, of the most vnfortunatest man that liueth, am become the only happie man of the world: notwithstanding this in lew of all fauour I wil returne you, that both by that meanes all priuate quarrells shall cease betwéene our two families, and you registred in our Aegyptian Records, for the onely peacemaker of Memphis. In these I swéete spea [...]hes ouer passing the daie & night, the next morrow the whole traine po [...]ed to Memphis, whereas by the high Priest of the Sun they were solempnly espowsed, and after many sorowes were recompensed with nuptiall pleasure. Now Ladies and Gentlewomen, I must leaue this to your consideration, whether the louers for their constancie are more to be commended, or the olde man for his patience more to be wondered at: I leaue you to fit that conclusion, till you haue read what is written, promising you that if my rude discourse haue wrought you anye pleasure, I will both labor, heer after to serue all occasions, and so fixo my studies as they shall not farre differ from your fantasies: and thus crauing you to winde at an errour, and commend as the cause requireth, I take my leaue: willing to be made priuie if I haue anye wayes trauayled to your contentment.

FINIS.

TRVTHS COMplaint ouer England.

[Page]

MY mournfull Muse Melpomine drawe néere,

Thou saddest Ladie of the sisters thrée,

And let her plaints in paper now appéere:

Whose teares lyke Occean billowes séeme to bée:

And should I note the plaintiffes name to thée?

Men call her Truth, once had in great request,

But banisht now of late for crafts behest.

Amidst the rest that set their pen to booke,

She pickt me out to tell this wofull tale,

A simple Poet, on whose workes to looke,

The finest heads would thinke it verie stale:

Yet though vnworthie, to my friends auaile

I take the toile, and praie my Muses aide:

To blazon out the tale of Truth dismaide.

Such time as Phoebus from the couloured skie,

Did headlong driue his horses t'ord the West,

To suffer horned Luna for to prie,

Amidst the duskie darke, new raisde from rest,

As I in fragrant fields with woes opprest:

Gan walke to driue out melancholy griefe,

Which in my heart at that time had the cheefe.

It was my hap fast by a riuers side,

To heare a rufull voice lamenting thus,

You [...]lling str [...]ames, euen as your waues diuide:

So breakes my heart with passions perillous,

Which faine I would vnto the world discusse,

Were anie héere for to recount my moane,

Whose wofull heart for inward griefe doth grone.

[Page]

Which sayd, the cast her dewed eyes as kance,

And spying me, gan rowse her héauie head,

And praide me pen her sad and heauie chance,

And she recounted it that present sted,

I did agrée, and graunting Truth me fed:

With these reportes which I set downe in vearse,

Which gréeues my Muse for sorowes to rehearse.

Whilome (déere friend) it was my chaunce to dwell,

Within an Iland compast with the waue,

A safe defence a forren foe to quell.

Once Albion cald, next Britaine Brutus gaue,

Now England hight, a plot of beautie braue,

Which onely soyle, should séeme the seate bée,

Of Paradise, if it from sinne were frée.

Within this place, within this sacred plot,

I first did frame, my first contented bower,

There found I peace and plentie for to float,

There iustice rulde, and shinde in euerie stowre,

There was I loude and sought too euerie howre,

Their Prince content with plainnesse loued Trutli,

And pride by abstinence was kept from youth.

Then fl [...]w not fashions euerie daie from Fraunce,

Then sought not Nobles nouells from a farre,

Then land was kept, not hazarded by chaunce,

Then quiet minde preserud the soile from iarre,

Cloth kept out colde, the poore reléeued werre.

This was the state, this was the luckie stowre,

While Truth in England kept her stately bowre.

Iustice did neuer looke with partiall eyes,

Demosthenes was neuer dum for golde,

[Page]The Princes eares were ope to pesants cries,

And false suspect was charely kept in holde,

Religion flourisht, liuings were not solde

For lucre then, but giuen by desart,

And each receiud, & preacht with zealous hart.

Then learning was the Loadstone of the land,

Then husbandman was frée from shiftes of lawe,

Then faithfull promise stoode in stéed of band,

The Drones from busie Bée no Mel could drawe,

Then loue, not feare, did kéepe the state in awe:

[...] then did flourish that renowmed time,

[...] earth and ashes thrusted not to clime.

Foras the horse well mand abides the bit,

And [...] his stop by raine in riders hand,

Where mountain calt that was not sadled yet,

[...] headlong on amidst the fallowed land,

Whose fierce resist scarce bends with anie band:

So men reclainide by vertue, tread aright,

Where led by follies mischiefes on them light.

Use masters all, vse nurtereth mortall wayes,

Use, vse of good, continues happie state,

Use, vse of mée, made England then haue praise,

But since abuse hath banisht me of late.

Alasse the while, there runnes another rate,

Which while by sad insight I looke into,

I sée the want of those that haue to doe.

And yet I sée not Sodome: some are good,

Whose inward bowels dayly melt in mone,

To see how Britane now is raging wood,

Hard hearted, flintie minded, all in one,

Bent to abuse, and leauing me alone. [Page] [...] [Page] [...]

[Page]Alonely lead with carelesse shew of peace,

Whereas secure regard doth sinne increase.

Some, some there be whom zeale hath swallowed vp,

First, blessed Prince, of whom I finde reléefe,

Some noble péeres that tast errors cup,

Some godly Prelates in the Church are chéefe,

Same Lawiers lead by zeale, lament my gréefe.

Some Merchants follow God, not swallow golde,

Some countrie Swains loue truth you may be bolde.

Yet as great store of Darnell marres the séed,

Which else would spring within a fertile field:

And as the fruitfull bud is choakt by wéede:

Which otherwise a gladsome grape would yéeld,

So sometimes wicked men doe ouerwéeld,

And keepe in couert those who would direct,

The common state, which error doth infect.

Yet Truth must neuer alter from his name,

Good Prince sayd I. ye good: what of her selfe?

And that is good, for Princes that doe frame.

Themselues to priuate good, doo subiects good,

Yet that's not that same goodnesse I would name:

Good Prince, good people, that's the good I craue,

Of Princes goods, that goodnesse would I haue.

For as the great commaunder of the tides,

God Neptune can allay the [...],

And make the billowes mount on either sides:

When wandering kéeles his cholar would displease:

So Princes may starre vp and some appease,

The commons heart to doe: and to destroy

That which is god, [...] this▪ which threates anoy.

[Page]

For common state can neuer sway amisse

When Princes liues doo leuell all a right,

Be it for Prince that England happie is,

Yet haplesse England if the fortune light:

That with the Prince, the subiects sée [...] not right,

Unhappie state, vnluckie times they bée,

When Princes liues and subiects disagrée.

I know not I whence come these wayward woes,

Whóse sodaine showes portend this sodain change,

Yet dooth mis doubt such sodaine feares disclose,

As Truth this present doubts the sequell strange:

When stable head, lets stailesse members range,

I feare me: as the buildings trust to sand,

So euery blast will stroy with turne of hand,

When as in Court by proud contempt I sée,

A fashion feedes the fancies now a dayes,

When as in Court promotions passed be

By selfe opinion: oft the wise man sayes,

The turnes are strange, and fauour soone decayes:

And those whom fortune windeth now a floate,

By change of fauour, soone may change their coate.

When as election dooth but passe by sence,

Then must I deeme the world is fed by showes:

When garish beautie causeth vaine expence,

It [...] the man should sée, but little knowes,

Repentaunce is the fruite by louing growes:

So when in Court nought but such pleasures be,

Repentaunce must ensue we well may sée.

But leauing Court, where though the bramble groes,

Yet zealous care there sēts her selfe I see,

[Page]I doo in Court but now complaine of those,

Who practise that that sits not their degrée:

Whose vaines by powre full oft corrected be:

But now such colours cloake each bad pretence,

That showes doo hold the wise in some suspence.

But I poore I though gréeud at courtlike scapes,

Lamenting there the lauish vaine expence,

Haue farther cause abroad to note escapes,

Where craft dooth kéepe true meaning in suspence:

And wily worldlings couer their pretence:

With holy shapes, and in a holy coate,

Dooth flattry praise those men that swim a floate:

In Nobles traines, who sées not strange mis déemes,

Where each dooth gape and catch at priuate gaine,

And fleece the Lord, who though he blindfold séemes,

By oft attempts dooth barre them of their vaines,

The painfull wretch who toiles with often paines,

He hath faire words, when flattrie sucks the sweete.

Thus showes take place, and Troth's trod vnder féete.

In England gistes can compasse each reproofe,

The bad for gold may soone be counted good,

The wicked gainer for the states behoofe,

The blindest buzzard to giue hea [...]enly food,

The faintest heart in warlikst place hath stood:

And who giues most, hath now most store of farmes,

Rackt rents, the Lord with golden fuell warmes.

And Iustice so I feare by power is led,

The poore may crie, and gladly créepe to crosse,

The rich with wealth, the wealthie now are fed,

The simple man now onely be [...]s the losse,

The Lawier he the golden crownes doth tosse,

[Page]And now hath fées at will with cap and knée,

And each man cries, good sir come plead for me.

O swéete the time, when neither folly might

Mislead your hopes, nor alter olde decrées.

O happie Truth when as with swéete delight,

She laboured still for conscience not for fees.

O blessed time, when zeale with bended knées,

Gan blesse the heauens, that bent their powres diuine,

The English hearts to wisedome to encline.

But now refusd, disdaind, and set at naught,

Inforst to séeke for rest in place vnknowne,

I wayle poore wretch, that no redresse is sought:

But well I wot, my gréefes are not mine owne,

Some beare a part and helpe to waite my mone,

But all in vaine: such colours now are made,

That those would mend the misse, doo daunce in shade.

This said, be wetting all the place with teares,

And from her eyes expelling flouds of mone,

Her louely lockes bespred about her eares,

She waude her wings as willing to be gone:

And after pause, she soard away anone,

And thus she said: You Ilanders adieu,

You banisht me, before I fled from you.

Lenuoy. Beléeue me Countrimen this thing is true.

FINIS.

Information about this book

Title statement

An alarum against vsurers Containing tryed experiences against worldly abuses. Wherein gentlemen may finde good counsells to confirme them, and pleasant histories to delight them: and euery thing so interlaced with varietie: as the curious may be satisfied with rarenesse, and the curteous with pleasure. Heereunto are annexed the delectable historie of Forbonius and Prisceria: with the lamentable complaint of truth ouer England. Written by Thomas Lodge, of Lincolnes Inne, Gentleman.

Lodge, Thomas, 1558?-1625.

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1584

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2004-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

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A06162

ID [STC]

STC 16653

ID [STC]

ESTC S109563

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99845210

ID [PROQUEST]

99845210

ID [VID]

10097

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A06162)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 10097)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 553:12)

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— An alarum against vsurers Containing tryed experiences against worldly abuses. Wherein gentlemen may finde good counsells to confirme them, and pleasant histories to delight them: and euery thing so interlaced with varietie: as the curious may be satisfied with rarenesse, and the curteous with pleasure. Heereunto are annexed the delectable historie of Forbonius and Prisceria: with the lamentable complaint of truth ouer England. Written by Thomas Lodge, of Lincolnes Inne, Gentleman., Lodge, Thomas, 1558?-1625..

Extent

[6], 40 leaves

By T. Este, for Sampson Clarke, and are to be sold at his shop by Guyld Hall,. Imprinted at London :: 1584.. (Partly in verse.) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.

EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).

The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.