I Haue desired of long time, to haue heard your oppinion, but sure my hope ne­uer hapt so well as my wyll did wishe, tyll now at this in­stant, when least I lookte, it is my chaunce to gaine my desire. And therefore not refusing opportunity so well offered, nor your courtesie prof­fered, know you Sir in bréefe, my de­maunde is this. Whether Learning may liue without Looue, or Looue liue without Learning: Loe this is all, it is no difficult demaunde, and yet sure it is doubtfull to me, there­fore I beséeche your opinion heerin.

Madame, as your reason dooth craue no rashe reply, so are the cau­ses to be scande according to their vertue, the c [...]mmodity of the one contemnes the discommodity of the other: and sure▪ they bothe are not to be spared, yet may the one be vtterly reiected, and that is Looue. For tou­ching the nature of y^e same, although by a naturall instincte, men haue ra­ther giuen themselues thereto then otherwise: the thing of it selfe is but a vaine desire, a pleasaunt flame or furie kindled by affection, a bitter sweete: or rather as I might terme it [...]perefanion Cacone, a swéete euill [...]auste with a sower sappe: the com­moditie whereof cannot be so com­mended, but the abuses thereof more vtterly abhorred. For why? as the thing it selfe ought to be preferred as moste sacred and profounde, so the in­execrable vices lincked there vnto, and the mischéefes so many which thereof ensueth: maketh the delight [Page] more odious then honorable, so that there is no comparisō, but that Lear­ning may better liue without Looue, then Looue without Learning. For as Looue is generally rather thought a vice, more then a vertue: so Lear­ning from his originall is thought the onely touche, that tryeth such va­nities to be rather detested then desi­red. But now as touching Learning and the swéete commoditie thereof▪ I say that it is the Key of the Common wealth, the onely Loadestone of mās [...] life, the Nurse and Foster mother [...] Science, the sure supporter and vp­holder of vertue: yea and the stronge [...] and trustie Tower, that serues to [...] garde & gouerne Princes. Sure, if I should say so much of Learning, as if libertie would permit I could be wel contēt to discourse: my tongue should not waxe so wearie, as your eares woulde bee desirous to heare the depthe of suche a tale. For to Learning, is not onely the charge of the Common wealth committed: [Page] but also there dependeth therevpon the deuine direction, and sauegarde to mans soule. Without learning there could be no Lawe, without Lawe no L [...]ue, yea and without Looue no life: So that Learning by Lawe dooth rather maintayne Looue, then Looue by Lawe maintaine lear­ning. Beside, I could tell of a num­ber, which by learning haue béene ad­uaunced to honnor, whereas yet by Looue I haue heard of very few. For what was euer with the Romaines so much in estimation as Learning? allwayes the Senate was supplyed with singuler Schollers, they regar­ded not the value but the vertue: so that Learning found there more li­berty then Looue.Heere was wunne wealth by wisdome. A simple Shéepe­heards sonne, by Learning hath proo­ued a Praetor, yea or rather Dictator of Roome. How many Clownes haue béene brought to the like hon­nor by Looue? if none, then Madame you are to be loouing subiect to Lear­ning, to whom I giue the Soue­raignetie. [Page] And as for Looue, this I pronounce, it is generally vice, though a perticular vertue, and sure a very méere vanitye; better to be wanted then wished: for by authori­ty, aswell sacred as prophane, there is lefte to vs a memorie of the mani­folde mischeifes, that thereby haue chaunced. And therefore (Madame) my aunswer is this, Learning excel­leth Looue, if to the contrarye you thinke your selfe able to defend my argument: you here haue libertye to prooue at your pleasure.

I thanke you for it, but I perceaue if I were so ignoraunt, that I could not my selfe define on such a doubt: I were much the better to referre my want to your wisedome, for you ar­gue, but you will not allowe: either you déeme me too simple to compare with your skill, or my wit too weake to counteruaile your wisedome. But Sir, surmise you now dispute with a Dame, and not a Docter: as I am [Page] not altogether a Sophister, so thinke me not so ignoraunt: but that I can sounde the depthe of a greater doubte then I haue yet demaunded. And whereas you rather infer the praise onely to Learning and not to Looue: I wil prooue that Looue in a publique weale, is to be allowed abooue Lear­uing, and Learning more better to be spared then Looue. Firste consi­der, that Looue is no particuler pro­pertie: but that the same is generall and common to all liuing creatures, but of humanitie moste honoured. Secondly consider the originall from whence Looue taketh his beginning. And lastely,Philoso­phie in a woman. scanne the sence accor­ding to the simple meaning: and then tell me how great a matter is inclu­ded in this little woord Looue. You wil not deny, but by nature men are learned to looue, and by Looue, Na­ture had her beginning. How can it then bee chosen, but Looue héerein was Schoolemaister to Learning: séeing the originall was Looue [Page] by Nature? which brought foorth Schollers though not traynde in Schooles.

Not so, for as Looue at the firste was rather Subiect vnto Nature, then either Nature or Looue a sub­iect vnto Learning: so time héerein was to be preferred before either.Theology. For time brought foorth Nature, and Nature engendred Looue, of Looue came Lawe, and of Lawe Learning. So that I saye, learning had his or­riginall from the beginning, and Looue by the diuine substaunce of the Deity, gaue aide to Nature: which after made Looue a Schoolemaister, and Learning a Scholler. But how? that men ought to looue Learning, and not Learning to like of Looue. For why? the discommodities there­of are so daungerous: as that Pa­triarkes, Prophets, Princes, yea and the moste notable Philosophers, doo vtterly estéeme it as an enemie to all vertue.

[Page]How many Princes, and other of as great power, haue (by prophane and sacred authority) béen seduced by this deceitefull Looue? I reade of Sallo­mon, Dauid his Father,Genesis. yea Abra­ham and Lot, whom though all these were chosen Uessels of the Lorde, yet could they not but doate vpon this vaine desire. And therfore, these haue left behinde them, a staffe to leade the ignorant, least as they did, they féele the scourges of Follie. And yet Abra­ham forgot Gods promise, & doated vpon Agar: Dauid earnestly repen­ted, and Salomon when he perceiued he had sinned, asked mercy of the Lorde. Therefore I must appropri­ate to them, that looue: thus saying. Dulce bellum in expertis, Warre is swéete to those that neuer felt it. And so Madam is Looue, but his sauor is sower.

You haue made a longe protestati­on, but I pray you tell me, if Looue had not béene liked of such holy fa­thers: [Page] whether had they hazarded theyr soules or not, for so swéete a sinne?

I déeme that although by Nature they sinned, hauing a lust rather to flesh then faythe: yet by repentaunce theyr sinne was but small, and that theyr sinnes left vs a sacred Testi­mony, to eschew so vaine a delight as Looue, which in the ende is repen­taunce. As sayd Demostenes, when he at Corinthe desired Layes of Looue,Whereof arose th [...]s Prouerbe. whose price béeing too high pitcht for his person,Non lice [...] omnibus a­dire Corin­thum. he aunswered: I will not buie repentaunce so deare. Loe Lady, how little was looue estéemed, all­though Layes offered her selfe for a summe, which was then the thirde Thirioletta or Harlot of the worlde. How thinke you heerin?

Marie very well, for as I remem­ber, the moste wisest, learnedst, yea and moste Poets and Philosophers, were made by Layes a laughing [Page] stock, who heareing one day great prayse spoken of the Philosophers and Schoole of Athens: as one soden­ly breaking out in laughter, she re­plied thus. Are these (quoth she) they whom you reporte for their learningLayes had more. so much renowned:Schollers then euer had Socra­tes. and come to Co­rinth to learne of Layes? Now cer­tainely (quoth shée) I am the Philo­sopher, and they are my Pupils or Schollers: for all theyr studie could neuer comprehend, what I in Co­rinth haue giuen them to vnder­stand. How thinke you now to Layes? was she not as skilfull in Learning as in Looue?

In neither of bothe.

Why? she was beautifull.

Yea, but more bountefull: for shee was better learned in luste then inLayes was Daughter to one of the préests of Apollo. looue, or els she had béene the onely Dame and delight of Pirrhus. But she learned Looue, and all her delight [Page] was to traine her Disciples with the like. So, that her learning prooued luste, her beauty a wrimpled braue­rie, and all her Doctrine none other but destruction. If I should stande vppon authoritie, I could recite a nū ­ber through her folly brought to mi­serie: & sure at y^• time when she liued, there were other twaine, Lamia the Concubine of Demetrius, and Flora béeing an Italian, farre more of honor then either Layes or Lamia. And therefore (Madam) you cannot as­cribe any lawde vnto Layes: s [...]eing that by luste, she was bothe enemie to Looue, and foe vnto learning. For there is neither Poet, Orator, nor Philosopher: but vtterly abhorreth Layes, with her adherents in all their laboures.

Which are they? expresse.

Why? Plato, Aristotell, Socrates, Isocrates, Demostenes, and Pericles.

Why? were all these by Women wronged?

No, but the euils that happened to others in their time: made them the more carnest to enuie [...]ooue.

Yet Ouid liked [...],A Philo­sopher subiect to Follie. Virgill did not hate it, nor as I remember Aristotle abhorre it, for if [...] had, his Hermia had neuer rid him: he had not beene subiect to the spurre, nor her beautie beene the occasion to snaffle his skill, but he doated on delight.

Yet excepting his folly, who was comparable to him either in life or learning?

Marrie that was Looue, by whome Learning lost his liberty, and Luste receaued the benefite of bothe. For the fancie of the flesh killed the desire of knowledge, and therefore luste at that time restrained Reason, and [Page] [...] [Page] [...]

And why Sir?

For that Plato rather was amo­rous, to try the inconstancie of Looue [...] then for any affection borne to Ar­chenasse.

Now certayn [...]ly Plato [...] beholding to you, [...] more beholding to [...] would not [...] vnwisely haue defended [...]. But since you are [...] farre, of trothe take [...] losopher, and then make [...] to Venus, as well for the [...] best.

I am sure you were [...] of S [...]crates, and for [...] beare him, you will not [...]eare [...] abused:Written [...] Clearel [...] but: yet I praye [...] angrye with Aspasi [...], though shee Schooled your Socrates according to her owne skill. If she béeing a wo­mā had power to teach such a Tutor: [Page] How then can you deny, but Looue is the onely Lampe of Learning▪ the Adamant which drawes you to a­morous delight, yea & the very Idoll whom you séeke, although you ferue the Sainct, and sew vnto the shrine. Tush Sir, if Trées could speake, Stones bewray their meanings, or [...] the delight which they [...] by Looue: what were [...] more, then now there [...] And yet I dare auouche, [...] naturall coniunction as [...] creatures, as for exam­ [...] [...] Female from the Mals, [...]he [...] dyeth, yea bothe per­hap [...] [...] therefore generally, in all things, Looue is to be preferred [...]. For why? Lear­ning [...] estéemed but with the wi [...]e, nor [...]ath any lasting, perpetuit [...] [...] permit: But Looue is immortall, not to be by death de­stroyed.

And therefore Sir, you play on a wronge Pipe, to condemne Looue, [Page] and commend learning.

Certainely Madame, you weary your selfe although to small purpose, for you chuse such occasions as best may serue your [...] ▪ but you neuer regarde the wronge which you d [...] to the Author.

Why? haue I [...]

Not one, but all.

Oh Sir, I blame you [...] seueare, séeing that your [...] Science is almost spoyled [...] You could doo very [...] [...] should not saye somewhat for them and your selfe. But [...] that, I now will somewhat digre [...], to show you of a rare example that happened by [...] [...] if you wyll bestowe time to heare it.

Certainely Madame y^• I will, or els you might déeme me very ingrate.

W [...]ll, then Sir attend.

As I remember Athineus wry­teth, that a certaine Courtezan named [...] Milesienna, A proper example by threé Loo­uers, writ­ten by A­thineus. no lesse adorned with regardes of Nature, then [...] [...]er person preferred in hart of [...] personages: was desi­red of many, not of the inferior sort, but of the best, insomuch, as that in the end▪ she fixed her fancie to fauour [...] the named Colophomen, [...] [...]quisite in beautie: with [...] her dearest and daintiest [...], she chose to performe her a­morous pleasures, although others had some interest, yet to him she was at [...] commaund.

Neuerthelesse, as I wyll not héerein commend her last [...]uious life: so I will not forget to [...]we a rare regarde of loyaltye, to be in this common Courtezan.

[Page] [...]

Shée determined [...] to giue him ouer first, [...] should vnderstand she [...] new made choyce: and [...] one day to put the same [...] what time her loouer [...] thinking to be no lesse welcome t [...]en before: he found his Lady had chaun­ged her coppie, the [...] was altered, her countenaunce séemed to him [...] could as the Ise of the Mountay [...], making no accoumpt either of his proffers or of his complaints. Which when Colophomen once conceaued [Page] [...] [Page] [...]

The youngman departing [...] rate of all hope, either to [...] grace of his Lady, or the [...] compasse the Chaine of [...] last hazarding the hap of bothe [...] me th [...]to Bachide, and vnto her [...] the dollerous disco [...]rse, late hap [...]pened twixt him, and his [...] fr [...]e [...]d. Not forgetting to beséeche [...] of her [...]ountie, in committing to the court [...]fie of his a [...]ncient [...] Chaine, whom he so dearely [...] Bachide, A singuler curtesie in a Cour­tezan. which behelde with what care her Colophomen was [...], and how beside, of long time the familiarity was great twixt [...] [Page] [...] young man: saying. [...] shall neuer cause my [...] to be contemned, take the [...] therefore, and present thy Lady [...] therewith: and say, that [...] then she should be ielous [...] of her Iewel, I send her my Iewell to driue away her ielousie. The young man hauing the Chaine depa [...]ted, how glad, that I commit to the [...] of Loouers. And find­ing his fréend Milisienna, presenteth her therewith: not forgetting to adde thereto the woordes of Bachide. Which when Milisienna had well [...], and sawe the courtesie, [Page] [...] also resignes her [...] Co­lophomen to be at her [...] for her selfe, to be at the [...] pleasure of them bothe. [...] not to put in practise, ought [...] should be preiudice to either [...] persons: So to conclude, they [...] were contēted to impart then [...] alike to Colophomen. I doo [...] now, which of these had the greater conquest: she y^• bestowed her Chaine so bountefully, or shée that reto [...]ned it with so great a rewarde, as to commit her fréend to the liking of the other.

Certainely, shee that gaue the Chayne was the greatest Conque­rour, for that shee did hazarde it without hope of any happe [...] and [Page] [...]

[...] is this your oppinion?

[...], but to what end serues [...], I cannot perceiue it?

Naye you will not, and that is [...], for if you did, you then might [...] how secreat the effects of Looue wrought in these thrée: but especially in the man, for he béeing forsaken of Milesinna, with charge neuer to pre­ [...] her presence, without the [...] of B [...]chide: did [...] haz [...] [...] so that his hap hung [...] vnlesse he brought the [Page] [...]

Alas Madame, this is but [...] example, to appro [...]ue this [...] loyall either of the one or [...]: for you confesse them [...], thē are they common by [...] and looke what kinde dooth, [...] hardly be reformed. Therefore [...] Lo [...]ue was Luste, theyr courte [...] [...] vnchaste: yea & all theyr praise [...] to be counted pernici [...]us, then to be preferred for perfect. But now Ma­dame) [...]éeing we are ent [...]ed [...] farre into examples of Looue [...] you of o [...]e more notable then any yet rehearsed, which Plutarche hath written in contempte of Looue, and his lawe, and that is this.

[Page] [...] yeares in her vnchaste and las [...]iuious looue: she was a [...] lengthe demaunded [...], and so delightfull to [...], that by the sodaine glaūce [...] from her inticing lookes [...] caught in the mischéeu [...] [...] and nette of her beauty. In [...], as his owne former plea­ [...] [...] were vtterly abandoned: and [...] his fancie fixed to behold the [...] fauour of his Lamia. In so much, as that he would u [...]uallye swea [...]e by Lamia, as had shée béene a Godde [...]: and as Plu [...]a [...] [...] at such time when the A­thenian [...] to assist him in his warres, [...] of theyr courte [...]ies ele­uen, Tallents of siluer to paye his Souldiours:11. Ta [...]ents of Siluer giuen to a H [...]rlot. he regarding more the Looue of his Lamia, then the safety or [Page] [...]

[...] take my Lamias life, thou leauest [...] her looue behinde with me. She being dead (as some writers affirme) was by him kissed and imbraced as [...] whē she liued: & whē he saw n [...] reme­dy, but y^• law of nature must haue her due, he causd her sepulcher to be made before his window, whereas he vsed once a day whilste he liued to waile y^e death of her. In so much y^e it was pro­poned by the Philosophers of Athens, [Page] [...] [Page] [...] woorkes yet liue, and in spight of [...], they vaunt of victory. There­fore (Madame) heere was looue loste with Lamia, and though Demetrius, [...] her, his Learning did loathe her. And therefore I hope this exam­ple may make you content not to striue any further.

Nay Sir, you shall not so shake me off, séeing you by common Courti­zans doe rather gaine glory, then by loyall looue vsed of constant Ladyes: I will now requite your example with the like, although I might ra­ther blushe then to boaste thereof. Yet séeing we stand vpon example hetherto, onely vpon prayse and dis­prayse of Looue: I purpose now to wade a little farther, and either to prooue Looue Soueraigne of Lear­ning, or Learning superior, and looue his Subiect. I am sure you are not ignoraunt of Flora, for that I heard you name her of late, the life of whom, though I wish not to com­mend: [Page] so will I not condemne her wisedome, in the subtill Schooling and Nurtering of her Pupils or Schollers.

FLora was of byrthe noble, of na­ture gentle, of personage beauti­full, and of Looue liberall, in so much that ouer the place where she dwelt, she set vp this scrole or pre­scripte. Except King Prince, A large title. Dicta­tor, Praetor, Consull, Censor or Que­stor, heere is no place for any to en­ter. As for Emperor or Keyser, they were not then knowne, this was her vse, she neuer set her honour like Layes to salery: for Laies would com­monly haue her hyer before hande. Now Flora had this fetch, she as not respecting Goulde or Siluer, gaue her selfe to be gouerned by her Loo­uer. And so by this meanes she got treasure infinite, for why? this was her common phrase, béeing one day demaunded the cause by Noble men, why she refused to aske what she would haue, she aunswered thus.

[Page] I cōmit my selfe (quoth she) to Prin­ces and Noble men, that according to my beautye, I may be pertaker of their bounty. For (quoth she) by the Gods whom I doo serue, there was neuer man gaue me so little, but that I had more then I lookt for, or dou­ble to my demaund. There ought (quoth she) no sage woman to set her selfe to sale, for all things in y^• world are rated at a price, except Looue, and y^• is not to be payed but with Looue: so that none ought to demaund duety for the amorous pleasure she dooth to a man, but for the Looue she beareth vnto him. This was y^e opiniō of this Courtezan, who though she were cō ­mon, it was not so much for coyne as courtesie. She sought to none, yet was she sought of all. The learnedst thought no shame to be her Schol­lers. Then Ergo Looue was héere more regardant then Learning whē Consuls & Censores left all for lust & Looue of Flora. Whether was Wit or Wisdome héere best Scholler? [Page] Witte wan Looue and wealth, and Wisdome loste wealth and gaynde Luste.

Sure Madame, you scan the sence contrary, for though Flora found such fortune, as that the wisest and weal­thiest were bondmen vnto her beau­tie: yet she neuer held Learning in subiection. Learning still had liberty to triumphe ouer Looue, although the learned were snared by her subtilty. So that if Looue haue conquered a­ny, blame the Booke bearer, and not the Booke: for Learning it self neuer yet hath nor will bende to beauty, I stand vpon this oppinion.

Of trothe I beléeue you thinke your selfe in your study, or els you would not speake so obscure: but what fi­gure you take I know not, but wel I note all your woords are per Allego­riam. But Sir according to my Lod­gicke, I will approoue, that as long as the Learned are liuing, they enioy [Page] Learning, and the benefit thereof: you cannot seperate them a sunder, for conquere one and take bothe. E­uen as a man should say, take my heart and take my life, naming two when one would suffise. Therefore Sir, I say that if Loone subdue the Learned, shee then is conqueror of bothe: vnlesse you will make a di­stinction, touching the person of the one, and the property of the other, and that you cannot, for that they bothe are so faste lincked as nothing can sunder them: therefore you erre, if to the contrarye you conster the case.

Well, then I perceaue you will haue it: either to what perfection you please, or els you wyll not giue ouer. And therefore as I remember,Cornelius Suetonius. Cor­nelius Suetonius sheweth a notable example, to the vtter abollishing of Looue, which you tearme amorous or pleasaūt pastimes: and for because that you will not be perswaded, that [Page] Looue can any way be reiected right­fully: I will now by example prooue it to be so odious, as you your selfe shall confesse it hath varyed from the lawes of Nature: and this is the ex­ample.

THe Tirant Nero, who not onely longe time moste [...] inordinately and beastly, spoyled a number of Uir [...]ins and chaste Ladyes:A moste horrible acte of Ne­ro. bothe against God. and the Lawe of nature. but also finding a beautifull Boye, more plea­saunt in his eyes then any other Uirgin or woman: caused his secrets to be spoyled, thinking thereby to haue him transformed to his owne pleasure, by such a Metamorphosis as of a man to haue a woman. Not long after he married him, naming him Sporus, endowing him with such se­cret duties, as to a Wife are due by dowry. Héere was lust more thē law of Nature, and yet it was Looue. But I hope you will not allow this, sée­ing that Nature was héere a foe vn­to her selfe, in kindling so great a fire in Nero, as could not be quenched [Page] without such a cursed coniunction. This Luste of Nero quite extingui­shed the glory of Looue, and makes the same so odious to the eares of such as reade this tragedy: that men rather séeke by reason to brydle such fiery affections, then to be found ac­quainted with such pestilent passi­ons. So that Cornelius and Suetoni­us doo leaue their Learning, to be a Lampe or Loadstone vnto our liues, that though we séeke to be rather thralle to Looue, then by Learning to haue liberty: yet theyr counsell is héerein to be ruled by Learning, and not to raunge beyonde reason: so that Learning is héere vtter enemy to looue.

Furthermore, sithe I am so farre entred, I will yet make a farther discourse of the vnnaturall Looue of a Father to his owne Childe: that the terror of the tale may giue light as in a Glasse, to beholde how vn­chaste and inconstant Looue, is for the moste parte.

Beginne your tale, I attend the same with dilligence.

WEll Madame, then know you when Diophes was Kinge of Egipt, Herodotus. whose substaunce, treasure and reuenues, were vtterly consu­men and spent, to maintaine a sump­tuous woorke, which he had then in hande: the number of whose worke­men, was not so f [...]we as one hun­dred thousand. Who labouring long tyme vppon a pyle (as the Author affirmeth) wasted so much wealthe: as that he was not onely destitute, but also desperate to comprehend the same.A father compelleth his owne daughter to liue la­ciuiously. And séeing by no meanes possi­ble the same could be finished but onely by the meane of money, which then he did want: He commeth to his Daughter, and commaundeth her earnestly to giue her selfe to sensuall prostitution, menacing her not onely to pitch a great price vpon her honor: but also to embrace euery one that [Page] brought to her commodity. Which soone after she fulfilled, no lesse with regarde to her owne profit, then also to performe her promise to her fa­ther. For looke how many dealt or had dalliaūce with her, of euery such she demaunded a Stone: whereby at last she gathered such a gayne, that the price thereof builded the Pirami­des, a certaine hill which beareth on the top one hundreth and fiftie foote. This Looue you must néedes confesse was neither good nor godly: and ther­fore Learning in this place had béene better then Looue. For then the ex­cessiue expence of the father, had ne­uer sought the sale and the spoyle of his owne séede: but héere was Luste and no Learning, which forced folly bothe in Father and Daughter.

Farther more as I remember,A straunge kinde of loouing. Lo­douicus Vartomanus writeth of a straunge and wonderfull wooing or looue making: which in a prouince in India named Tarnassery, is common­ly vsed, and thus it is.

[Page]WHat time as any young man becommeth amorous of any Dame: he commeth to her, and taking a péece of woollen cloathe which he dippeth in Oyle, he clap­peth the same to his naked arme, and setting fier thereto: he protesteth by his Gods to endure no lesse torment for her whom he looueth, then that which in her sight she séeeth him to receiue: signifying therby, that there is no torment or martirdome that may be ministred to a man, but that he is able to abyde the same for her sake. But what thinke you Madame? wrought Looue or Learning first the effect? If it were Looue, what néede he then to scorche his skinne? If it were Learning, as it cā be no other, vnlesse Diuine inspiration put it in his head, which if it were, yet was it Learning, although applyed leawde­ly, to a more lasciuious Luste.

How thinke you Madame? haue you examples enowe, or wyll you any more?

My sence is almoste surprised with these detestable, yea or rather diue­lish discourses: for amongst all these euils, although I confesse they haue béene contributores to Cupid, there hath not yet beene any without spot: and yet the bad is as good as the best to reasō with you. But leauing them as they are, not yéelding any whit to Learning: What thinke you now Sir? of such Dames whose vertues haue béene vaunted of the wisest, praysed of Philosophers and Poets: yea, and so lamented of the learnedst, as that neither Pen nor Poet was able to discourse the Looue and loy­altie, which in their liues they ought to their husbandes? ne like case, to Recorde the reuenge with lyuing, with theyr Husbands losse, they vsed on themselues?

FIrste to begin with Porcia, Porcia con­sumed her selfe with hotte coales. the Daughter of Cato, and wife vnto Brutus: who when shée vn­derstoode of the slaughter of her [Page] spowse: not hauing an instrument for death, so ready as she wisht, to shew the looue and loyalty she bare to her Brutus, deuoured burning coales. Cleopatra Quéene of Egipt, [...]ppianus Alex. at such time as the death of her Anthonius, was once to her reuealed: no myrthe, no meate, no delight, was so much desired of her as death Whom when Octauius Caesar had perceiued, and sawe by her passions, that she could not preuent the same without perill of her person: hee caused her to be strongely garded, war [...]ly watched, yea and so circumspectly conducted, as that he déemed her safe, from sée­king slaughter of her selfe. But how brought she to passe her will? she ap­prooued a straunger torment, then ei­ther sworde or fier: and that which moste deare she alwayes reserued for Anthonius, she refused not to bestow bountefully on venemous Serpents, wherewith her corpes was cleane consumed. Thyrdly, let vs not for­get that loyall Ladye Arthemezia, [Page] Quéene of Caria, and wife of Manso­lus: who when her Husbands death was blowen into her eares, wepte so bitterly with such aboundaunce of teares, that well nighe all the moy­sture in her body, conuerted into wa­try humores, yea, or rather floods of Salte droppes. Whose death, when with mourning and sorrowing, shee had sufficiently supplyed: she caused a moste sumptuous Sepulcher or Shrine to be made, and as the bodys wasted and consumed, so dranke she vp still the duste of her deare Manso­lus: neuer leauing, til the very bones had satisfyed her, as the rest before. Thus was her selfe the Sepulcher of her spowse, déeming the woormes vn­woorthy for him, although they were fed with her selfe. Furthermore, Liuie reciteth, that when it was re­ported to Iulya, Titus Liui­us. how Pompaeus her husband was slaine in the féelde: she tooke the same so sorrowfull, that in the presence of Pompaeus, she passed her life. Also the wife of Brucollo an [Page] Allemaigne, when for treasō her hus­band was by the Emperor Claudius Marcello condemned to be deuoured of Lions: she sued vnto the Empe­ror, to participate the torment of her Husband. And when she sawe no in­tercession would serue, neither for his suretie of life, nor for her selfe, who desired to accompany him to death: shée brake into such a furie,Augustino de pan­chio. as not regarding the torment, she spake the moste vyle and reprochefull woordes she could inuent, against the Emperor Claudius. Yea, and if his Garde had not béene, shee had slaine him. Which the Noble Emperor séeing, and considering of the cause: not onely pardoned her Husband and her selfe, but also gaue them largely for to liue.

How thinke you now sir? whether dooth Looue or Learning héere get moste prayse? Learning in this place preferres Looue, or els there had béene no memorie made of the liues of these chaste and constant Ladyes. [Page] And therefore Learning hath made a Register, and vollume of their ver­tues, wishing others to immitate the like, as did these honest Matrons, whose liues is the onely Lampe or Loadestone for Ladyes. How thinke you Sir? can you alledge any thing to the contrary?

I cannot well condemne them, ne will I els commend any part [...] ­ler person.

Why? were they not chaste and constant to theyr husbandes: that would not refuse to accompany them to the death?

I will not deny, but theyr death did argue a great signe of constan­ [...]ie: for that in such extremeties, the losse of lyfe is a Touchestone, either to trye Looue to be faythfull, or els to bee fayned. For otherwise, there are many, that wyll vowe in showe to taste any torment, [Page] for the health or surety of their hus­bands,Death tries the trothe of all men. but the deedes dye wi [...]h th [...] death of the Husband. And therefore, for troth, I must giue praise to those whom you haue named: but [...]ouching their death; for that the same was doone desperately, there can be no cause of prayse preferred to such per­sons. For that by sacred writ, we are [...], in what sorrow or [...] soeuer we be, not to shorten [...] dayes by any stroke of death: but paciently to take the same, vntill by the prouidence of God, we finde ease of all such euils. And therefore Lear­ning hath left no such lawde of the death of these Dames, although their liues be woorthy the writing. Ther­fore (Madame) you muste vale now, and giue place to Learning: or els you erre much in your oppinion, for that you by their deathes, make them to be renowned, which rather de­serue vtterly, to be reprochefully re­puted. In that they, to féede their fonde and amorous affection, would [Page] by the losse of their [...], breathe life into the bodyes of their buryed hus­bande [...] wish with my hart, all women [...] follow the same: but touching theyr deathes, that I referre to Diuines: but surely, on my part it is vtterly detested. For I can appropriate no [...] to such a pernicious [...] ne can any man commend the same to be doone of constancie, but rather frantick or foolishly, And therefore (Madame) I cannot allow your ar­gument [Page] to be good.

Why Sir? I am sure I haue forged no fable, whereby to make theyr prayse a president [...] my purpose: [...]e séeke I to attribute to their dooinges any larger discourse, then I can af­firme [...]y authority. And therefore, i [...] [...] the contrary, haue declared of [...] [...]ene dead. And if by their deathes they haue rather merited reproche then renowne: who then is in the fault, but those y^• haue painted their prayse, in place of dysprayse. For if their liues were honorable, and their deathes odyous: theyr liues should haue béene registred, & their deathes béene put in obliuion. But I will not be perswaded (although you deeme their desperation to be dam­nable) [Page] but that those Dames doo yet liue in delight [...] for at that time they rather chused death to winne a [...] life there [...]y,A good hope. then to liue li­cenciously, to die a double death.

And therefore [...]y opinion is, these Ladyes, although they knew not Christianity: [...] had and haue they [...] foules, the glory and gaine of [...] on, and therefore Learning [...] l [...]ttle to contend with [...]

But now vnto a farther [...] you will not allow Looue to be [...] ouer Learning: and therefore [...] approoue it by an example, [...] shalbe no lesse familiar then faith­full: What, will you then giue o­uer?

Madame, I will [...]iue you the hea­ring, and as I like your reason, so shall you heare my reply: if it be good, I will allow it, if otherwise, I muste and will confesse the con­ [...]rarie.

[Page] Well then Sir to the purpose.

WHen the King of Hetruria had Titus Liui­us. sent his def [...]aunce to the Se­nate of Roome, and that his Legats expected the aunswer of the Sena­tor [...]: Mutius Sc [...]uola and Coclius (then Consuls) béeing in the Senate: the [...] was a controuersie betwéene [...] they were deuided on contra­ [...] [...], parte helde it best to make [...] with the Hetrurians, and [...] some to giue aunswer to the [...]ntrary, but especially Coclius, who [...] an eloquent Oration openly [...] the Senate: perswaded the Ro­ [...]ines not to take truce, but valiant­ly to prooue themselues, as theyr no­ble Progenitors had doone before them. Whose Oration béeing ended, as you know Scaeuola replyed, that Coclius had little care of his Coun­trey, so to perswade them to warres: when by their wisedomes, they were able to appease the hatred of the He­trurian King. But whilest they con­tended about this case, a Messenger [Page] came running [...] into y^e Senate house, and brought ridings how the enemy was at [...]: the Feildes were couered with armed men, and the Walles of Roome at point to b [...] scaled. Which Co [...]us hea [...]ing, now my Lordes (quoth he) defend Roome by your wisdome and Learning, I leaue you: and with that woord so­dainly departed, and hastily [...] himselfe, came firste to [...] where, by an assault, the enemy [...] ready to enter.One man fought a­gainst a whole Armie. But Coclius [...] more the sauegarde of his [...] then surety of himselfe, stoode in [...] fence and kept the Bridge [...] the whole Hoste of He [...]rurians: and when he sawe no remedy, he fired the Bridge twixte him and the enemy, and taking his halfe Shéelde, which then he had left, he refused not to leap into Tyber, and so to hazarde his life▪ rather then to leaue to his foes the conquest and spoile of his Countrey. Héere was Looue more then Lear­ning: for if Learning could haue de­fended [Page] Roome, I déeme it sufficient­ly supplied with Schollers. But héer was Looue conquer [...], and whilste Looue labored by life to frée Roome frō ruine Learning lay soft at home, expectyng, when the enemie would come to fight with words, But had Looue, bothe by Coclius, and after by Mucius Scaeuola [...] béene no better Soldiers to their Countrey by theyr Looue, then such S [...]hollers by their [...] walles of Rome should then [...] at this day, the sloth of theyr [...] Senators, and prayse the Looue and vertue of Coclius and [...]. And though the one held [...] a wrong opinion, against the o­ther: when Mutius Scaeuola had heard what a valliant exployt was by Coclius atcheiued: What (quoth he) shall Mutins he mewed vp in the Senate, and heare such fame ringe in Rome of Coclius? No. And with that woord, he departed to the Campe of his enemy, where he by his endeuor shewed such a Looue to his Countey: [Page] as neuer was the like since the death of Curtius. Curtius who leapte into the gulfe at Roome. Whose example if I séeme to passe with out prayse: I should sure ecclipse the honour that by him was doone to Roome, and also wrong much the Knight, who for his Coūtry counted his lyfe to be as nothing. These and such other examples are ryfe in memory, and therefore I but giue notyce of theyr noble nature. But Sir, how many were in Roome of your profession, that for the pub­lique weale, would put himselfe in perill like to any of these? that is to say, Coclius, Curtius, or Mutius Scae­uola. And how if I named Marcius, Regulus, Manlius, Coriolanus, yea, or Scipio, surnamed Africanus? these were all Schollers, yea and Sena­tors. But how many shewed like Looue to Roome as they did, and had so small a guerdon for their good will?

Manlius, A sor [...] recompēce for true seruice. after long and manye yeares, venturing his life in the quarrell and right of his Countrey: [Page] When he came vnto Roome, was throwne ouer the walles into the riuer Tyber, Coriol [...]nus was bani­shed, and when he [...] Voltians against the [...] Roome: they then fearing theyr destruction, sent out his Mother, Wife, and chil­dren, with charge not to returne, till they with him had gotten truce. Which once vnderstood of the Volti­ans, when he returned to his Campe, he [...]as of them trayterouslie slaine. M [...]r [...]us Regulus after many notable things by him a [...]chieued: was cruelly stoned, or pres [...] to death by his owne Countreymen, whom he had doone so much for. Scipio likewise, spending all his time, in the wars and defence of his Country: neuer found any such enemy as Roome, which rewarde [...] him with banishment. So that he dy­ed in a Uillage in the Countrey, ac­cusing Roome to be the enemy, and author of all his euils.A [...] Hanniball likewise, found Carthage so vnkinde, that flying in his olde age to Prusius [Page] [...]or succour, [...]: and so rather then to yeelde to his foes, poy­soned himselfe. These fellowes loo­ued not to pra [...] of Table Philoso­phie, nor to make a [...] ▪ sit­ting in theyr Ladyes lapp [...]s. For these Loouers neuer went to studie, what elloquenc [...] they should vse to please theyr Loouers: but bluntly powred it out, that bothe earth and Skies, resounded the Eccho df theyr enuie.

And furthermore,A rare ex­ample. when as Dame­tria vnderstood, that her sonne, sent in the defence of his Countrey, fayled to shew his valliancie according as it was in charge to him committed. How aunswered she the Messenger? Hath not my sonne (quoth she) wun fame to his Countrey? No certainly (quoth he) but vtter dishonor by his cowardnes. Well (quoth shee) and what he hath loste among his foes, at his returne he shall finde amongst his freends: he shall neuer bring con­fusion to his Countrey, nor sorrow [Page] to my so [...]le: [...] rewarde, [...] sonne within a while came home, and hauing then proo [...] valiant indéed [...], came, according to the auncient custome of C [...]nquer [...]s. Which wh [...] she sawe; she with teares séemed ten­derly to welcome him: But in the dead time of his sléepe she murthered him. And béeing demaunded the cause, shée replyed thus. Héereby (quoth shée) I haue fréeed my selfe and [...]ountrey from a cowarde, and giuen victory to him by death, that could not attayne it by life: meaning, that by his death, his Countrey should neuer come to ruine by his cause.

Héere was a straunge kinde of Looue, when the Common wealth was nourished before nature and the libertie thereof pawned by the pryce and corpes of her owne Childe. But shee estéemed not his life so much, as the Looue she ought to her Countrey: yet was she Learned, and [Page] [...] Lawe of nature, thought her sonne woorthye to taste such a tor­ment.

Also Genutius, A moste rare con­stancie in Genutius, who to kéepe inui­olate the Romaine law, c [...]used his owne Sonne to be slain [...]. when his enemyes Campe and his were so nigh, as that the one would (in time of tru [...]) visit [...]he other: he commaunded vpon paine of death, no man for any cause, the Trumpet of truce once sounded, should encounter his enemy.

Not long after, it hapened a noble youth comming towards the Campe of Genutius, from the other side, bothe in signes and woords of reproche chal­lenged Briaro, the sonne of Genutius: who knowing the daunger, yet séeing the hautie heart of his enemie, an­swered. Neuer shall it be sayde that a Consulles sonne of Roome, will suffer himselfe to bee so scorned: and turning himselfe towardes his foe, gaue him that, which to crakers and praters is moste due, in so muche that hée slewe him. Whereat the Souldiours reioysyng, [Page] thinking to haue had praise of [...]: bewrayeth the whole summe. Which when he heard, béeing m [...]ued therewith, that his commaunde­ment was no more regarded: Goe (quoth he) take him, whippe him at a [...]ake, and after strike of his head. Neuer shall the Lawe of the Ro­maines, be broken by Genutius.

How thinke you Sir? hee was Consull, and he bothe knew Looue, Learning and Lawe: yet was Looue preferred héere before bothe. There­fore, you now cannot otherwise, but accoumpte this saying true. Amor vinci [...] omnia. For héer generally Loue is still Conqueror, and Learning the onely Uassaile and Subiect vnto Looue.

You haue waded very farre, in searching authorityes, but sure Ma­dame, you are yet wide of the white, your Shaftes are well shotte, but they light very short of the Marke: and therefore Madame, I hold it best [Page] you rather giue ouer with indiffe­rencie, then to weary, your selfe, and loose all in the end.

Well sayde Sir, I am content that I serue you vaine [...], to giue you delight by my [...], to trye your wit and capacetie: and séeing you are so plesauntly disposed, haue with you for company, but first, I pray you make me resolution [...] this demaund.

Who was the wisest that [...] was, the Learnedst that euer was, the Loouingst that euer was, the libe­rallest that euer was, and the strong­est that euer was. Loe this is all, therefore commaunde your wittes into your counting house, and let me sée how finely you can define of this Demaund: it is as good for you as a Doncaster bitte, therefore hemme, and to it with a courage. What? faynte you all readie? nay soft, you must yet sift a little farther, turne the backside of your braynes once [Page] the backside of your braynes once more ouer [...] now man? no metuas, be not afraide.

Tush Madame, these your quippes I [...] delightfull as your dispu­tation, [...] etting that passe: I now apply my selfe, to the aunswer of your demaunde.

The [...] that euer was sin [...] [...] was S [...]llomon: for that there was no Riddle, nor Allegor [...], but by his wisdome he made [...] [...]a [...]e open. But yet for all his wisdome he fell from God, and was by Loo [...]e, made thrall to a number of vices. But why (Madame) stande we héere vpon? Me thinkes you in [...]er [...] vpon necessitie, because you want matter to follow your argu­ment▪ which if you doo: I shall not onely [...] in [...] a La­die, but reioyse that by my meanes, your minde shall bee altered from Looue.

[Page]Forwarde Sir, you haue yet mist the marke, and gon some what downe the winde: but shoote once more. Who was the Learnedst that euer was?

If a man may aime [...] then were the sonnes of [...], the learnedst: for knowing and [...] the secreates and Misteries of the Heauens, they found, that the world should be destroyed, either [...] fire or water. And therefore to leaue a memorie behinde them of such [...] hidden misterie, they erected [...], the one of earthe, and the [...] of brasse: in which they orderly en­graued the Science of Astrologie and Astronomis, thinking that if the worlde were consumed with fire the [...] of Earthe should yet be [...], and if with water, then the other of Brasse. So that I déeme them the Learnedst, for that they were the founders of Lear­ning.

[Page]All this is labour lost, well, what and who was the loouingst that e­uer was▪

The [...] that euer was, I déee [...] [...] our Sauiour Christe: whose [...] was such towarde vs poore sinners, that he disdayned not to leaue Heauen, to come and take [...] nature héere vpon him on earth, [...] so of his mercy he might make [...]tis [...]action for our sinnes, whose [...] otherwise had béene [...]leane [...] of saluation. So that I af­firm [...] his Looue towards vs, neuer was, is, or shalbe the like.

So sir, come no more, a [...] that scant­ling I pray you, for you haue hit the Clowte in the middest [...] a­gaine, who was the liberalle [...] that euer was?

The liberallest that euer was, was Esau, for he solde bothe his in­heritaunce, [Page] and also the blessing of God, to his brother for a messe of Pottage. I neuer knew a more libe­rall gifte vpon so little gaine. And as for the strongest that euer was: I confesse that Sampson was he, for that he was almoste inuincible, if he had not fallen in his faithe.

Well, and is this your definition: are you content to yéelde it vp so?

Yea sure.

If you doo, it is little to your prais [...] ▪ for that except in one point, you haue fayled in all. Yea, and in that too, for that all these vertues expressed, are resident with one person: and you haue prooued them contrarie, to be dispersed. But what will you say, if I prooue them all in one?

I saye then (Madame) that you do [...] very well.

[Page]Nay: but if I approoue i [...] true, and like case conclude Looue to be Nurse to Learning. Will you [...]o affirme, and cease longer to co [...]tend thereof?

On that condition I will, I pro­mise you: but if you fayle to doo it, how then?

Then will I giue chéefe prize and prayse to Learning.

Well then Madame, beginne at [...]our pleasure.

The Wisest, Learnedst, Loouing­ [...], Liberallest, and Strongest that euer was, is Iehoua, the onely maker and creator of all thinges, who by his wisdome made the worlde, and in the same hath not onely planted and placed all kinde of creatures: but also made man, to be the onely Lord of all creatures els liuing. So that who may compare with his [Page] wisedome? or who can comprehend a woorke of such woonder?

As touching now the Learnedst that euer was, I likewise affirme that the Learning and Lesson, which he first taught our Father Abraham, was so profound, [...] of so great im­portance: that all the Diuines in the world, could neuer define the miste­rie thereof.

Thirdly, you confesse him to be th [...] Loouingst that euer was, and I mus [...] néedes allow it. For what greater Looue could he showe to man: then firste to make him, béeing nothing but slime, like to his moste glorious and diuine Image. Secondly, when man had transgressed, and was by the Law condemned, how Loouingly sent he, according to his promise, his one­ly sonne our Sauiour, to paye our raunsome, and to deliuer vs from deathe and damnation. What Looue was euer like to this? and yet this Looue was meant to man, before the beginning of the worlde.

[Page]And now touching his liberallitie, what Prince in the world from the East to the West, hath power to doo the like? Firste, he hath giuen vs the world frankely to liue in, and all the creatures therein contayned, to be at our com [...]ndement: he féedes vs, he cloathes vs, he prouides vs h [...]rbor, he hath giuen generally all the world, and all things therein. What can be more wished? or who euer was so liberall? Lastely, the strongest that euer was, like case he is: for at his woorde, bothe Hea­uen and the Earth shall faile, the Mountaines fall, yea, and the Seas [...]ell abooue the toppes of the same. So that our God is inuincible, and his woorkes not to be wondred at, but praysed.

And therefore Sir, now confesse your selfe subdued, for Looue héere got the vpper hande of Learning: how say you? can you denie this? haue I not prooued it bothe by Phi­losophie, and also by Diuinitie

[...] I muste com­mend [...], for Looue in déede, in this [...] to L [...]rning. For that the: same Looue hath no ende, no [...] knew no beg [...]ning: And therefore it must [...] orri­ginall of Learning.

Well, I am glad yet that one so simple as I, haue confused [...] a Scholler, I well may [...] this victorye. But yet for [...] [...]e that you haue doone vnto me, in this our longe [...] ▪ I will conceale the conquest to my selfe, vpon condition that you shall counte your selfe conquered. For I would not ingratefully requite you, in con­sideration, that the cause of this long conf [...]rence was onely through my meane: and therefore Sir, take it in good parte I [...]ray you, that I séemed so homely with you, for I honour the Learned [...]nd looue them as my life.

[...] ▪ if ought in me yet [...], hath brought liking to your honour: I am glad you fo [...]nde me héere so luckily: And as for your conquest, of trothe I muste confesse you haue [...] it: and therefore by deserte, you may best make boaste thereof. But if héereafter, when op­portunitie shall permitte, it be [...] to vse the like: I rest at your [...]mmaunde in any thing I [...].

Sir▪ [...] you, and for that I sée [...] [...]teth, I leaue you to your fo [...]mer exercise: in hope héere­after you wyll not inuaye against Looue. And thus good Sir fare you well, when I haue the like occasion: I will not make dainty in [...] of your company.

Nor I (Madame) [...] straunge, in performing your [...].

[...]