VISIONS, OR, HELS KINGDOME, And the Worlds Follies and Abuses,

Strangely displaied by R. C. of the Inner Temple Gent.

Being the first fruits of a reformed life.

Longè vadit, qui nunquam redit.

LONDON, Printed by E. G. for Simon Bur­ton at his Shop next the Mitre Taverne, within Algate, 1640.

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFULL Sr. Thomas Metham, OF Metham in the County of Yorke Knight.

Richard Croshawe dedi­cates these his first Fruits, as the reall intentions of a re­formed life.

To the Students Of the Innes of Court.

GEentlemen, Matter is bet­ter than words. If you bee no­ble, worthy, and ingenuous, these many precipitations I here discover, need no other effect than honest pi­ty: but if these endow­ments [Page] of the minde bee ex­cluded, either by the rash­nesse of Youth (an ill Tu­tour); or by violent prodi­gality and licentiousnesse, (a worse Disciple); My desire is, that my serious lightnesse, may arrow-like pierce your Consciences, to an unfained repentance. The more you are contri­state, the lesse will be your sorrow; for to lament, is here to rejoyce: and such joy I wish may be accumu­lated on you, and on all [Page] those, that either love goodnesse, or are estranged from it. The reason why I present this Booke in chiefe to you (after the interessed Dedication) is, because being my selfe, of one of your Societies, my obser­vation and experiment hath made mee conjecture, that these two should never bee unwelcome, Advice and Delight. The first where­of, if my Booke doe not instruct, yet mine owne deviation (still knowne to [Page] many) may, seeing there is no stability in bubbling pleasure, nor no true con­tent without a religious re­turne; so you have both precept and example. And as for the latter, it is bet­ter wisht than described. Reade and judge.

The Honourer of your vertues, Richard Croshaw.

To the Reader.

REader, I am no Libeller, what is here written, is written for thy instru­ction, and not to de­tract from any mans worth. For I ingenu­ously protest, there is not any one in particu­lar living, that I intend [Page] either by this or that: what I have done was for mine owne recreati­on, and had not beene now published, but by entreaty. Excuse there­fore the errours in it, since they proceed from him that is full of er­rour; and if thou mea­nest to live contentedly, learne to live well; so shalt thou finde, that Hell is here onely de­scribed, that thou maist avoid it; and the way [Page] set downe of the Dam­ned, to shew thee the path of Paradise.

Richard Croshawe.

The severall Visions.

  • 1. The Possessed Sergeant.
  • 2. Death and her Dominion.
  • 3. The last Iudgement.
  • 4. The Foole Amorous.
  • 5. The World in its Interior.
  • 6. Hell.

Errata.

pag.lin.errourcorrect.
27fomerformer
162shirtsskirts
218parchingpatching
4717entredsuted
1026 not

VISIONS.
The first Vision: OR, The Possessed Sergeant.

VArious and incon­stant is the life of Man: some­times lifted up with the height of prosperity, where hee not onely sees, but en­joyes all the pleasures of the [Page 2] world. And by and by cast downe into the gulph of misery, where hee findes such bitter fruits in the punishment of his ill go­verned wayes, that there remaines not so much as a taste or relish of his fomer felicity. Thus hath God weighed out these two con­ditions, that none should presume there is any reall happinesse but in him onely, nor any obscure adversity, but by repentance may bring us unto him. Such Medita­tions as these, was I mastered by, in a remote and farre Countrey: when I could not choose but fall into a serious contemplation of mine owne vanity; heartily de­siring, that I might finde out some way, whereby I might lessen those calamities, which by cu­stome were almost growne here­ditary. Night grew on, and sleepe [Page 3] seeing mee utterly destitute, be­came herselfe a Friend; and in slumber made mee conceive I was an Actor in this Vision.

Methought.

Curiosity that stirres up all men to things rare and new, invi­ted mee one Morning to behold the severall imbellishments of a famous Monastery; whither I was no sooner come, but I found the doore shut, and beganne in my selfe to censure the peoples devotion, who to that houre of day had neglected pious duties. Yet least opinion might deceive me, I enquired of one that stood at the Porch, what the reason might bee, of that unaccustomed privacy? who telling me that the religious men had excluded all [Page 4] others, that they themselves might better endeavour to expell the spirit out of one possessed, encreased my desire to gaine ad­mission: which I had no sooner ruminated on, but I espied one of the same Covent, with whom I had formerly gained some ac­quaintance, and to whom with some earnestnesse I manifested the obligements I should owe him, if hee would admit mee a sight so unfrequent. As Curtesie generally exceeds in all of that Brotherhood, so in him it found a seat of eminency, who staying not to dispute, or by feigned com­plements to declare the difficulty, made signes with a pleasing ge­sture, that I should follow him; and with a Key, which hee tooke from his Girdle, opening a pri­vate Doore, granted my request [Page 5] before hee promised it. But when I was got in, I could not tell whe­ther with more safety, I should postulate a dismission backe, or resolve to stay, so full of horrour was the Object. In the Chancell on the floore lay a man of a most hideous aspect, his apparell torne, hands bound, eyes staring, mouth extended, and feet chained to the Raile about the Altar: some­times starting up, and againe vo­luntarily flinging himselfe to the ground, yelling, shriking, and howling, as if the universall doom of punishment for sinne had been laid on him onely. This and the feare I was strucken in, made mee partaker of his unexpressible tor­ture, and to cry out, O Lord! what is this? The Exorcist a holy Father, that was diligent about [Page 6] him, made answer, It was a man possest with an evill spirit, and had hardly spoke, but the Tor­mentour tooke the word. The Conjurer, said hee, lyes; this is not a Man possest by a Devill, but a Devill possest by a Man. Discoursers take heed what you speake, for in questions and an­swers, you rather bewray your ignorance, than knowledge. Un­derstand that wee Devils are not (as I am now) in the Bodies of Sergeants, but by constraint, and against our wils; and therefore if you will name mee as you ought, you must say that I am a Devill Sergeantiz'd, and not a Sergeant Diaboliz'd: which you may ea­sily credit by this, because all men speed better with us than with them, since wee flie the Crosse, (fixt on the top of the [Page 7] Mace,) but they make use of it as an instrument whereby to doe mischiefe. And though I must confesse there is a great corre­spondency betweene their Offices and ours, in that they procure other mens hurt, as well as wee; and as wee desire there may bee none but wicked and guilty men in the World, so doe they also: Yet theirs is with a most eager greedinesse, pricked forward through an hellish disposition, and an avaritious desire of gaine; but ours onely for company sake. And in this also they are more to be blamed than we, because their evill turnes to the destruction of their owne sexe and kinde, which wee abhorre. For wee are Angels though deprived of Grace, and had never beene converted into Devils, had wee not stroven to bee [Page 8] equall with God. But Sergeants turne Sergeants to be the vilest of men, and greatly delight in the miserable confusion of others; so that you all strive in vaine to present comfort to this Wretch, since there is no man so godly, that stayes not in his tallons if he once can catch him, and they and wee may well bee both of an Order, were it not that they are Devils cloathed and shod, but we naked and bare-footed, (as you are,) leading an hard life in Hell.

Though we were all transpor­ted with wonder to heare these Diabolicall speeches, yet did they not at all hinder the Frier from continuing his Exorcismes; who hoping to still the Spirit, cast holy Water on him: but that was rather a motive to fur­ther tattle. Thinke not, said hee, [Page 9] your blessing of Water can make it available, I tell you it rather hurts than benefits, there being nothing that Sergeants hate more than it. For men have so often revenged themselves in this kinde, in heat flinging them into Rivers, to coole their appetite: in cold, into Privy bathes, to warme their malice, that it is growne abominable to them: who cannot any way bee accoun­ted good Christians, because both their Office and Name is derived from Moores and Barba­rians, Nations that never made a Conscience of any thing.

Wound not your selves by be­leefe, (said the religious man to the assembly) the Devill was ever a lyar, and if wee suffer him, will raile and murmur against Justice her selfe; because by correcting [Page 10] the world, and chastising vice, she snatches away many Soules from him, which otherwise would have been ensnared. Dotard (said the inmate) dispute not with me, for I know more than thou dost; but if thou wilt doe mee a plea­sure indeed, banish mee this Ser­geants body: for I am a Devill of quality, and when I returne to Hell shall be soundly swaggerd at, for haunting so bad a Companion. Through the compassion I have of those bitter torments thou ma­kest him suffer, by Gods grace, (said the Divine) I will doe it, and not for the foolish words thou speakest. Wherefore dost thou so much afflict him? Can I doe lesse? (answered he) when at this very instant, his spirit is con­tending with mine, who should be the greater Devill, he or I.

[Page 11] The Fraternity regarded not his malicious answers, but I whose feare, beganne to bee lesse, and inquisitivenesse more, tooke great delight to heare him prat­tle. And turning to the reverend man, desired, that (if possible so much licence might be given to a stranger) he would partly hinder the poore mans endurement, and permit mee to demand some few questions of the intruder; which it might bee would not onely be­nefit my selfe, but accrue to the good of some of mine owne Countrimen, if at any time I should make them familiar with the passages. This was no sooner spoke, and condiscended to, but the Spirit forcing the Body to looke upon mee, and laughing at me, began. We have Kindred and friends (said hee) both in Court [Page 12] and City; when there are Poets, they doe us many good offices, by the Trade of Venery and Macquerellage. And though their wits can clothe their fancies in a higher straine than you doe, yet you all, tending ro the same cen­ter, and embracing the same sci­ence, are bound to give your at­tendance to maintaine the ho­nour of those of your Profession, whom wee suffer in Hell. Are there any Poets in Hell, said I? Yes many, (replied hee,) the way is so easie, and they doe so swarme, that wee must bee faine to enlarge their abode, and there is nothing in the world so delightfull as to see a Poet in the first year of his freshmanship there, who most commonly brings letters of fa­vor, directed to our superior Magi­strates, thinking to finde Charon, [Page 13] Cerberus, Rhadamant, Eacus, and Minos.

But what paines doe they suffer (said I, feeling my selfe galled?) Many (replied hee) and those such as are proper to the Trade. Some are tormented in hearing the workes of others rehearsed, (the punishment also of Musiti­ans) which they envy, yet can­not mend. There are some of a thousand yeares continuance in Hell, and yet have not made an end of reading the stanza's they composed of incontinency. Others that rubbe the palmes of their hands, scratch their fore­heads, beate their browes, and teare their haire, and yet cannot resolve whether is most proper, disaffected or unaffected, depain­ted or unpainted, because the word comes from painting. [Page 14] There are others, that seeking out a consonancy, as it were blindfolded, walke raving to and fro, biting their nailes and eating their band-strings, till they fall into holes and pits, from whence wee have a great deale of trouble to plucke them out. But those that endure most, and are worst entreated are Comicke Poets, justly punished for making a rape upon the honour of so many Queenes, Princesses, and great persons in England, by their une­quall matches of them; and in their Playes for displaying so many invectives against men of esteeme. With these of the land, water Poets are not planted, but because they have used so many inventions, fictions, and lyes, to coozen the World, and get mo­ney, are put among Proctours [Page 15] and Solicitours, as amongst peo­ple that live by that exercise: for you must understand, that as there is great conveniency, so there is very good order kept in Hell. The other day there came thronging to us of all sorts; hee that first enterd, was a conceited fellow, a Drawer, one that by devising patternes for wast­coates, &c. got no small favour; whom when we thought to quar­ter with Projectours, wee remem­ber that hee said, besides his draught hee could counterfeit to the life, therefore hee was setled with Scriveners and Attournyes, as among them that can draw and counterfeit upon all occasi­ons. Another called himselfe a Cutter; he was asked whether of Stone or Marble? but saying hee was of their kinde who cut off [Page 16] mens purses, and at Masques La­dies shirts, wee put him with de­tractours and evill speakers, as amongst those that rend the gar­ments of anothers good fame. Blinde men that thought to shrowd themselves among Poets, were thrust among Lovers, be­cause of the sympathy. And Vintners with Waterbearers, be­cause of the mixture. Fooles were chamberd up with Astrologers and Alchymists. Murderers with Physitians. Ill dealing Trades­men with Iudas. Evill Magistrates and Ministers with the bad Thiefe. Citizens with Shufflers. And Brokers with Jewes. And to conclude, there is not any Com­mon-wealth so well ordered as Hell, where every one hath a re­tirement according to his qua­lity.

[Page 17] I thinke you spoke of Lovers, (said I) and because I am as well sensible of that infirmity as of Poetry, I would willingly know if there bee many? Love being a great spot of Oyle which spreads all abroad, (added hee) thou needest not doubt but Hell is well throngd with the amorous. There are of divers sorts. Some that are Lovers of themselves, others of their money, others of their speeches, others of their workes, and some of their wives, and of that kinde there are very few, because women are of such malignant natures, that by their disloyalty, imperfections, and searching wits, they give every day new subject to their Husbands to repent of their conjunction and alliance with them. All Lo­vers are delightfull to see, and full [Page 18] of mirth, if there may bee said to bee any in Hell. Some you would take for a Millaners shop, they are so deckt with points, knots, and ribbens, of all sorts, which they call favours. Others for a periwigge makers stall, they are so hung with bracelets, amu­lets, and lockes of all haires and all colours. You would take some for Messengers to a great City, laden with packets and Epistles to and from their Mistresses; which they call Love-letters, but we Inflamers, because they serve to inflame and burne the bearers. And others for Jesters, the posture of their wooing is so ridiculous, who once loved, but never obtai­ned. These are condemned for short shooting, yet wonne the game; and those for kisses that never betrayed. Under them, in [Page 19] a dirty and stifling hole, carpeted with beasts hornes, were those that you call Cuckolds; Crea­tures that at the first beganne to bustle with us, objecting a dou­ble injury, if they should now againe bee punisht, that in the world had already received dis­grace sufficient: the Horne graf­ted upon their forehead, being first taken from the Devils owne brow, who in the shape of a man made the first Cuckold. But when wee told them that the Divell ne­ver wore Hornes, but that they were derived from the Goat and Ramme, emblems of mans libi­dinousnesse, and the name of Cuckold from the Cuckoe, a bird that having plundered the issue of an innocent, maketh her hatch her viperous brood, or else from mens owne indulgence and wo­mens [Page 20] impudence; they became the most peaceable of all our pen­sionaries, and are armed with in­comparable patience: for ha­ving beene heeretofore strengthe­ned and fortified in the unfaith­full dealings of their wicked wives, they are never angry at any thing that is done unto them. In which respect, and our owne pity, wee have advanced them in­to one of our fairest upper lod­gings: and in their Dungeon have placed such as are lovers of age and old women, who are strongly chained; for Divels themselves doe not hold their ho­nour safe, amongst people whose taste is so depraved.

But having satisfied your curi­osity, I must tell you that wee Di­vels are much offended, in that you mortals so slovenly besmeare [Page 21] and disfigure us. Sometimes pain­ting us with clawes and tallons, yet are wee neither. Eagles nor Griffins. Then gluing tailes to our posteriours, as if wee needed flie-flappes, or the world should mistake us for Hernes. And then parching on our chinnes, wenny, and welky beards, to me­tamorphose us into Turky-cocks and Cocks combs; yet there bee Divels amongst us that may well bee taken for Scholars and Phi­losophers. But you had best mend this, if you covet a good fire when you come to visit us. Wee asked the other day that Painter whom you call Michael Angelo (though improperly) why he presented us in his judge­ment with so many beasts hooves, deformed bodies, wry neckes, and crabbed faces? His answer [Page 22] was, That having never seene any of our Tribe, and not crediting there were any, he had made that piece after his owne fancy, and not out of any ends of malice. But ignorance did not excuse his sinne, for hee now findes the rea­lity of that, hee would not be­fore beleeve. We complaine also, that in your familiar discourse one with another, you give us un­necessary presents. Behold (sayes one) how this Divell Tailor hath abused mee, How hee makes mee wait, How he hath stolne from me; Would hee were in Hell! You doe us a great deale of wrong to wish them there, or to make such com­parisons; For wee never suffer them to come nigh us but with a great deale of intreaty: because they doe already alleage the name of inheritance, in that Custome is [Page 23] a second Law. And having taken possession of Theft, oftner kee­ping Stuffes demanded of them, than Sabbaths commanded; they enter grumbling and muttering when we doe not open the backe­doore, and thereby acknowledge them legitimate Children. The Divell take it and thee, sayes ano­ther to him and those things that displease him; keepe your gifts at home, for of this kinde there come more than wee fetch, neither doe wee take all that are given; for wee make a conscience of some things: and would not accept of the forward Letcher when he sayes, I would I might be damned to lie with such a Beauty, but that hee does enforce us. You bestow likewise on the Divell every roguish Page and Foot­boy; but hee will have none of [Page 24] them, for know (that for the most part) they are more wicked than Divels themselves. Also you give to the Divell an Italian, but the Devill thankes you with all his heart, yet loves not to bee under­mined. An Englishman, but hee will have none of their new fa­shions. A Spaniard, but hee that knowes the tyranny they use in making themselves masters of Townes, when once they are per­mitted entrance; detests their cruelty. And a Frenchman, but the Divels stomacke will not serve him, because they are already parboyld; and therefore intreats you to send them to the Great T [...]rk [...] to season, and make Eu­nuchs.

Here the Spirit became silent; when hearing a noise behinde mee, made by one who had crept [Page 25] in, and was thrusting to get fore­most, I turned about to see who durst bee so uncivill in a place so sacred. And perceived it to bee a certaine Informer, that had been the cause of the undoing of one of my deare associates. There­fore that I might a little vindi­cate my Friend, I againe questio­ned the possessour. Seeing so ma­ny men of divers conditions in­habit your clime, Are there none there of those Horse-leeches, those plagues to Kingdomes, Pro­jectours, &c? You are cunning, (said hee) Know you not that these Vermin are the naturall heires to damnation, and have their patrimony assigned in per­petuall darkenesse; yet know also that wee are upon the point to discard them, for they are growne unthankfull, beginne to [Page 26] scuffle with us▪ and would wil­lingly lay a Tribute upon the wayes to Hell, but because the charge encreases dayly, and wee beleeve that in processe of time the taxe will mount so high, that our Agents on Earth will be con­strained to forsake their Com­merce, (a thing very prejudiciall to our Common-wealth) wee will from henceforth shut our Gates and utterly exclude them. In doing so you may be injurious, (said I) for then they will aime at Heaven. Never feare that, (pro­ceeded hee) for that is a traffique they never delighted in. But, I pray you, on whom will they raise these new impositions? If you labour to know all the cir­cumstances, (answered hee) bid that fellow draw nigh that stands there (pointing to my Gentle­man) [Page 27] for hee is of the occupati­on. At this the Company pre­sently cast their eyes upon him, whereat hee was so ashamed, that turning his backe, and plucking his hat over his eyes, hee slunke away, leaving the by-standers astonished, and me revenged. And when the tumult was appeased, the Divell continuing said, Is my Champion absent? I care not greatly, if I supply his place. Understand then, that the Mo­nopolies they would now finde out, and the Imposts they would impose and set forward are upon jewels, rings, plate, and precious stones, upon lace, handkerchers, dressings, gorgets, and the nice attire of women, upon coaches that serve for no other purpose but to hurry men to Tavernes, Theaters, and the assignations of [Page 28] love. Upon excesse of apparell, feasts, and stately moveables. Up­on Play-houses, the schooles of blasphemy and obscenesse. And generally upon all other things whatsoever, that serve to enhance the pride of the world, and en­crease our Empire; which will become utterly desolate, unlesse some good Magistrate, and our Friend, oppose himselfe against them. Not so, (I persisted by way of interruption) In this mee thinkes they are very reasonable, seeing that the toleration of such things serve onely to pervert good manners, corrupt chastity, stirre up riot and prodigality, and utterly ruinate modesty and vertue. But concerning Magi­strates of whom thou beginnest to speake, Can it bee possible that there are any Judges in Hell? A [Page 29] fine question (replied the Divell) Friend, a wicked Judge is the seed that fructifies most for us: 'tis a Graine from which we eve­ry yeare receive a thousand Do­ctours, ten thousand Proctours. Advocates, and Lawyers; and more than twenty thousand Mar­shals and Pettifoggers; so that many times when the yeares are fruitfull in cheating and deceit, wee have not Garners enough to containe the fruit that comes un­to us by the meanes of corrupt Judges.

Wilt thou then inferre that there is no Justice upon Earth? Yes, (said hee) if the story of Astrea bee true, didst thou ever heare it? No, Hearken then, (said the Fiend) and I will tell it. Truth and Justice on a time came together to inhabite the Earth, [Page 30] but found none to entertaine them; because one (which was Truth) was naked, and the other severe. In the end after they had wandered up and downe, like va­gabonds without shelter, Truth was enforced to dwell with one that was dumbe, and Justice see­ing her selfe unregarded, and that her name was usurped by Ty­rants, resolved to returne: yet that shee might leave no way un­essayed, shee retired from Courts, Palaces, and Cities, and travelled into the Countrey, where in Cot­tages and Villages shee rested a while under the simplicity and integrity of the poore inhabi­tants; from whence Envy (that never left to persecute her) re­mov'd her also. Then went she to Gentlemens houses; but being never bred up to lie, when they [Page 31] demanded who shee was, answe­ring, I am Iustice; they drove her from them too, saying, we know not what that is. So that being ge­nerally refused, shee fled or rather flew up to Heaven, scarce leaving behind so much as the trace of her footsteps. Since when, men re­membring her name, attribute that kind of Scepter or Mace unto her, which hath a crosse at the top; which although it have got the title, yet sometimes burnes the Basis, because that many times through the abuse of it, it hel­peth better to steale, than the hookes, false keyes, and ladders of Theeves. For humane cove­tousnesse is growne to that height, that all have converted the facul­ties of their mindes and senses, into instruments to commit theft. The Lover, doth hee not steale a [Page 32] Virgins honour, with her owne consent? The Lawyer, doth he not steale his Clients goods, with his knowledge, when hee perverts the sense of the Law? The Comedi­an, doth he not steal his Spectators heart, when hearkning unto the Verses hee hath conn'd, hee looses time. The Amorous, doth hee not steale with his eyes? The Elo­quent with his tongue? The po­werfull with his armes? The va­liant, with his hands? The Musi­cian, with his voyce and fingers? The Dancer, with his feet? The Physician, with death? The Apo­thecary, with health and sicke­nesse? The Chirurgion, with blood? The Astrologer with Heaven? and there is no man but steales one way or other, but most of all the Sergeant; who con­trary to all these, steales away [Page 33] both his Soule and body by wil­full relinquishment; for hee for­sakes them with his eyes, flies from them with his feet, and dis­avowes them with his tongue. And they are most of them so wicked, that wee say of them, as you of the Pestilence, Good Lord deliver us.

I wonder (said I to the Intru­der) that thou hast not reckoned Women among Theeves, know­ing they are of the same myste­ry? Alas! Speake not of Wo­men, let them alone, I pray you, (said hee) for wee are so pestered, weary, and troubled with them, that wee desire not their remem­brance, but to speake truth, if there were not so many in Hell, that would bee none of the worst habitation, especially for Win­ter. Oh, how much they would [Page 34] give to bee Widowes! Since the death of that Witch M [...]dusa, they doe nothing but invent snares, labyrinths, ambuscadoes, and I doubt not but in time will wage warre with us for suprema­cy of knowledge. All the good that is in them, is, that in our con­versations they aske no toyes and new fangles (as they doe of you) for they know wee deale not in small wares.

Of what sort have you most, of beautifull or deformed? Wee have tenne times more of fowle, (said hee) For though the faire meet easily with Gallants that sa­tisfie their burning desires, yet it sometimes happens, that by con­tinuance of sin they become sa­ted and repent: but the fowle wan­ting this libidinous felicity, (un­lesse they can purchase it) and [Page 35] maligning others, enter so lanke and dried up, that they affright us: for the most part of them are all old, and die grunting like Sowes, mad that the young ones survive them. I became packe­horse the other day to one of threescore and ten, that I tooke doing a certaine exercise against obstructions, whom when I had unloden, shee beganne to com­plaine of the toothach, to infuse conjecture there were some yet left, that shee might appeare lesse odious.

All my demands are untwisted, but this; I pray you tell mee if there bee any poore in Hell? What doe you meane by poore said the Devill? I call him poore that possesseth nothing. How understandest thou that, said he? How? Wouldst thou have him [Page 36] condemned that holds nothing of the World, when none are damned but such as covet and enjoy it? Those men that thou speakest of, are not enrolled in our bookes. And wonder not at it, for all things are wanting to them, yea the Divels themselves. You are rather Divels one to­wards another, than Divels are Divels to you. For can there bee a more notorious Divell than a Flatterer? an envious man? a false friend? a bad Companion? an unmercifull Creditour? or a sonne, brother, or kinsman, that wishes you dead to get your wealth? that seemes to weepe and bemoane you when you are sicke, and yet cares not if the Di­vell had you? All this is wanting to the poore man, hee is not flat­terd, envied, hath no friend, no [Page 37] companion, nor no credit, nei­ther are his children, brethren, or alliance de irous of his disso­lution, for any obscure ends, but hee is one that lives well, and dies better. And there are some so contented with this manner of life, that they will not change their condition with Kings; be­cause they have liberty to goe every where, whither they will, in peace and warre, free from all charges, impositions, and pub­like services, exempt from all judgements, civill censures, pro­cesse of Law, and jurisdiction, and in their Consciences are wholly uncorrupted. Moreover, they take no care for the morrow, observing in that the commande­ment of God. They husband their time well, and can justly value the dayes of their pilgri­mage, [Page 38] in setting before their eyes that death holds in his power all that is past, governes all that is present, and pretends a right to all that is to come. But there is a proverbe, that When the Devill preaches, the World drawes to an end.

Wee may truly say that Gods hand is in this, said the religious Conjurer. Thou art the Father of lyes, yet declarest truths, able to mollifie an heart of stone. You men, said the Devill, doe not ima­gine that this that I have spoken is for your salvation, deceive not your selves, 'tis that your paines may be encreased, when the time com [...] that you shal suffer: and that you may not pretend ignorance, and excuse, saying, No body hath told us. You are all Hypocrites. The greatest part of teares you [Page 39] shed, proceed onely out of griefe to forsake the world, and not out of any repentance for your sinnes. And though sin be sometimes dis­pleasing to you, because of your declining into yeares, or of your corporall indispositions, yet your will hath much a doe to bee over­come, because it is wicked. Thou art an Impostour, said the reverend man. There are at this day many holy Soules, whose teares have issue from another fountaine; but I see thou seekest to delude us, and it may be it is not the will of God, that thou shouldest bee expelled this miserable body; neverthelesse I conjure thee by his Almighty Power, not to torment him any more, but to depart.

The Spirit obeyed, and the de­vout man addressing his speech to us, Gentlemen (said he) although [Page 40] it was the Devill that spoke by the organs of this unhappy man, yet there is some pro it in this discourse to be made by him, that will meditate upon it. Therefore I pray you not to regard from whence these things proceed, but to remember that wee often re­ceive health from the hands of our enemies, and from tho [...] that most hate us. With draw your selves in the Name of God, to whom I will pray, that this sad and prodigious spectacle may serve to amend your lives, and convert you unto him. And heere my Slumber left me.

VISIONS.
The second Vision: OR, Death and her Dominion.

SAad thoughts are naturall to abject men, and gather together in mul­titudes to assault one unhappy. Certaine Enemies they are, un­certaine Friends, not much to be blamed, since they doe not de­rogate from the straine of the [Page 42] world, fickle, and unstable; now rising, now declining, and set, before they attaine the Meridian. Cogitations of this mold made me lament mine owne depression, and turne over the leaves of some few bookes, that by no Rheto­ricke could maintaine any more than one way to bee borne, but without study could finde a thou­sand wayes to die. Heere I found the ambition of the proud, and the covetousnesse of the rich, sa­tisfied with so little, that I began to hate all indirect dealings, and minde the advice was given mee. Mortall (said one) Why dost thou afflict thy selfe, and labour for un­certaine riches? Is not Death the end of all things? which many times comes upon thee before they are ob­tained, or at best well disposed: embrace that, by dying well, and [Page 43] thou canst not wish for those bles­sings shall bee denied. Wherefore dost thou so much feare Death, (said another)? What now remaines of the pleasures of thy passed life, and of thy first yeares, which were so sweet and delightfull? Seest thou not that all is vanished, and lost in times swiftnesse? Prepare thy selfe therefore, and take heart, put on a­lacrity of spirit, and settle thy Soule in peace and tranquillity. Remember (saith the Scripture) Man that is borne of a Woman is of short dayes, and full of trouble, hee commeth forth like a flower, and is cut downe, he fleeth also as a shadow, and conti­nueth not.

Dizzied with these Contempla­tions, I fell asleepe over my In­structours and doe verily beleeve, it was rather caused by some su­pernaturall predominancy, than [Page 44] naturall disposition; because my faculties, were free and at liberty from outward molestations, and busied in beholding this follow­ing Comedy, to which my fancy serv'd as a Stage for unusuall Actours.

I saw divers Physitians enter, riding on large foot-clothes, ominous in this, that they resem­bled Hearses for the dead. Their traine was broken and disorde­red, for some went a foot-pace, and others on the spurre. Their faces were contracted, got more by custome than age, in often frowning on their Patients urine, which prognosticated to the Sicke, more terrour than redresse. And these were followed by young Practitients, who by their frequent conversation with the Horses, more than with the Do­ctours [Page 45] became easily graduated.

Apothecaries came next, ar­med with morters, pestles, and doses, whose out-side bore the ascribed cures, and inside poy­sons. Their Shops were the Phy­sicians Storehouse, and the affli­cteds Purgatory. Their Recipes began with receive, but included to take, an ounce for themselves, and a scruple for the dying man. And all their compositions were disguised with such strange no­minations, as if they had beene Sorcery: cursed inquisitours a­gainst life, done in policy, that their mistake of one thing for another, might not bee discer­ned.

Chirurgions with some unwil­lingnesse followed, because they conceited precedency; the Ety­mology of their name signifying, [Page 46] a Physitian that worketh by hand. Their pockets were filled with pincers, cauters, files, sawes, knives▪ and lancets; and their cries of, cut, teare, dismember, burne, infused such feare, that my bones were consulting how they might serve as sheathes to hide one another.

Then Mountebankes (whose papers speake better than they) who with more impudence and lesse skill, would cure all Disea­ses with one Antidote, upon which there was no great dis­spute. Nor of the Barbers Sur­gery, (who came next) because it either killes or heales. These were more finicall than their forerunners, yet at proudest are but shavers of Excrements. Their greatest Artillery were Cizzers, Razers, and basons, and some [Page 47] sharpe lotions, the which were allayed, by the delicious mu­sicke of their Fiddles and Cit­ternes.

Seeing them followed by men wearing chaines crosse their breasts, and admiring what state they usherd; I easily lost that conjecture, when I beheld the linkes to be teeth, and the bearers Tooth-drawers; mouth-deva­sters, and drawers on of old age: not shaming to wish all mens teeth upon their thread, rather than in the place of their birth.

After these came men of divers habits, not unfitly entred, because all great talkers. Some were cal­led Swimmers, by reason that in speaking they spread their armes to and fro, as if they were swim­ming. Others imitatours, in that they counterfeited the lookes and [Page 48] gestures of those they spoke of. And others sowers of dissention, because they moved their eyes this way and that way (not stir­ring the head) to marke by stealth the actions of those they meant to betray.

And last of all Dissemblers, a presumptuous Generation, the worlds true plague; who thrust in­to all assemblies, and either by craft, flattery, or base submission, having got the secrets of men, convert them to the Relaters pre­judice, and their owne mercena­ry profit. These were called the extract of all the importunate, and because the poyson of Ser­pents lies in the taile, came in the reere as most poysonous.

Upon this, I beganne to consi­der, to what use, this great troope and confusion might tend: when [Page 49] behold a certaine Apparition drew neare, that seemed to bee of the Feminine kinde, of light gate and loose proportion. Shee was laden with crownes, gar­lands, scepters, sikles, sheep­hookes, buskins, wooden shooes, tires, miters, bonnets, embroide­ry, silke, skinnes, wooll▪ gold, lead, diamonds, shels, pearle, and flint. One of her eyes was shut, and the other open. She was cloa­thed in all colours, on one side appearing young, and on the other old. Now going apace, and anon slowly, at one time seeming afarre off, and by and by at hand And at all times so inconstant, that I could not have leasure to fancy who shee might bee. Yet was I not frighted, but rather in­cited to laughter, remembring an Italian Comedy I had lately [Page 50] seene, in which Halequin faining to come from the other World, had a baggage not much disso­nant; and therefore, after I had stood a great while musing, I stept to her, and demanded who shee was? I am Death, said shee. Death! (replied I, my heart fai­ling mee) and whither goe you Mistresse Death? I come to fetch thee (said she). Alas! Must I then die? No, but thou must goe alive with mee, and make a journey into the kingdome of the dead; for since many departed have rose to see the living, it is no injustice that one living should descend to visit them, and that the dead bee heard. Hast thou not heard that I have power to execute my sove­raigne decrees? Disrobe and fol­low mee. Ha, sighed I, in a cold sweat, Will you not let me weare [Page 51] my Cloathes? There is no need, (said she) apparel will but hinder you, besides I ease all men of their luggage, that they may walke with more agility. There was no contending, therefore I went after her; but to tell you through what by-wayes shee led mee is impossi­ble, for I was transported be­yond apprehension. As wee were going, I doe not, (said I) for all this, see by any outward appea­rance that you are Death, because she is painted without flesh, con­sisting of nothing but dry bones. Those Image-makers are fooles, answered shee, and want inventi­on; for bones are not Death, but the remainder of the Living. You Mortals know her not, or else shee would appeare in the vi­sages of every one of you, and in every severall member lie depi­cted. [Page 52] To die, is to finish life, and to bee borne, is to beginne to die; and the truest Image of Death is a mans owne selfe, and not a breathlesse trunke or bare ana­tomy.

But I pray you, Why doe you place Detractours, and Tell-tales, in the Van next to your owne person? because (said shee) there are more that die by the impor­tunity of great speakers, than by diseases, and more that are haste­ned to ruine by the conversation of flatterers and intermedlers, than by Physicians practice: though in the generall these are my greatest friends, and best servants, and to this purpose thou must understand, that most in the world grow sicke through excesse and superfluity of humours; but die, by the meanes and diligence [Page 53] of him that administers. So that when you are asked of what Dis­ease such an one is dead, you must not answer, Of a Feaver, Plurisie, Purple, or Pestilence, but he is dead by the hand of such a Physitian that hath beene well paid, for it is requisite that every Trade should live.

As we grew thus familiar, wee entred into a Vault, where the dayes reflexe was betwixt light and obscurity. In the entry whereof, upon one side I saw three Statues armed and stirring, of humane shape, yet hard to bee distinguished, and on the other an hideous Monster, that conti­nually fought with them, one a­gainst three, and three to one. Knowest thou, said Death, what these are? Oh no! said I, and I trust in God I never shall. And [Page 54] yet so it is, said shee, that since thy Nativity thou hast never kept other Company. These are the three capitall Enemies to the Soule, the World, the Flesh, and the Divell: looke if they doe not resemble one another so neare, that they are scarcely dis­cerned asunder; so that if thou entertaine but one of them, thou maist bee assured thou hast them all three. An aspiring man, thinkes he hath all the World, and hath got the Divell; a lascivious man beleeves hee hath the Flesh, but findes it the Divell; and so doe the rest. But what is shee (said I) with so many severall faces, that fights against them? Answer was made, The Divell Money; who hath bred a controversie, uphol­ding, that the rest have nothing to doe where she is, and that shee [Page 55] alone is all the three. First, shee grounds her dispute with the World, upon those Proverbes men ordinarily use, that There is no other World but Money, that Hee that hath no Money had better be out of the World, that We banish him the World from whom wee take Money, and that All things give place to Money. Against the se­cond Enemy, she saith, Money is the Flesh, witnesse Whores and Curtezans. And against the third, she makes use of your speeches al­so, that Nothing can be done with­out that Divell Money, that Love doth much, but Money doth all, and that, That which Money can­not doe the Devill cannot effect. Whatsoever the claime is, said I, The Devill Money needs no co­adjutours, seeing she defends her Cause so well.

[Page 56] Wee went forward to a place where on one hand I perceived Hell, and on the other Judge­ment, and did heedfully consider Hell, because it was a thing very strange. What lookest thou on, said Death? On Hell, said I, and methinkes by the aspect, I have seene it elsewhere. Where, (said she)? I have seene it in the emu­lation of great ones, in the con­sciences of them that withhold [...]nother mans goods, in wicked undertakings, in revenges, in the desires of the luxurious, and in the pride of corporations. But as for Justice, I am glad to see it in its purity, and had rather have Death with Judgement, than Life without it.

At last wee descended into a spacious Cave, circled in on all sides with very high Rampiers, [Page 57] and filled with much people: and here Death bad mee stay, for this was the place of her Tribunall. The hangings that adorned the walles were words of Woe, alas, griefe, sighes, ill tidings, and lamen­tations, as certainely, beleeved, as unregarded. Here Womens teares were deceitfull to themselves, and unprevalent with others. There sorrow was excluded from comfort, and cares were on­ly vigilant, being converted into Vermin to gnaw Kings and Prin­ces, whose usurped honours made them to suspect all men. He ere Envy had put on a mourning ha­bit, and kept a continued fast, it being not in her power to hurt. And there Ingratitude was knea­ding a kinde of Dough, mixt of Pride and Ambition, of which now shee framed Men, now De­vils. [Page 58] All quivered with curses and imprecations, of which de­manding the reason? one that was by answered, O Destiny! would you not have curses heere, where there are so many match-makers, Lawyers, and impreca­tours? Doe you not know that there is nothing more frequently spoken of in your Region, than Cursed be hee that married us, Cur­sed the houre I first beheld thee, and Ill h [...]p betide him that first brought us together. Cursed bee the Lawyer who counselled mee to follow this Cause that hath undone mee. And in other matters, Curst that I am, I would I might never come into Heaven, if I said this or that; and The Devill take mee, if ever hee spake to mee of any such thing. But what is all this to the purpose, said I? and what have these to [Page 59] doe with Deaths Judgement Hall? Ignorant man! said the other, If there were not so many contrivers of weddings, would there bee so many dead and de­sperate men? Is there any thing destroyes so quickly, as the cavils and circumventions of entan­gling Lawyers? And doth there any d [...] sooner, than hee that pre­cipitates himselfe? No certain­ly, therefore thou must conclude that these are the principall Pil­lars of this Dominion, and of the imperiall throne thou seest there.

At this, I lift up mine eyes, and saw Death sit in a chaire, en­vironed with many little Deaths, as The Death of Love, the Death of Hunger, the Death of Feare, and the Death of Laughter, each bearing a severall Ensigne and de­vice [Page 60] The Death of Love had very little braines, and for Attendants had Pyramus and Thisbe, Hero and Leander, with divers other Lovers, ready to expire under her Sickle, but by the rare miracles of the interessed rose againe. About The Death of Hunger were many Usurers, who having accumulated great wealth, de­prive themselves of necessary meanes; letting their bodies fa­mish and their soules die, which they had long before converted into Gold and Silver. The Death of Feare was richest, and most stately, hemm'd in with Tyrants and mighty men; such as flie from all, thought none pursueth, and afford the world no good, but this, that by their sudden selfe destruction through feare, suspi­tion, and distrust, they revenge [Page 61] themselves the innocent, whom they had before condemned and slaine. The Death of Laughter was the last, rounded with peo­ple of quicke apprehension, but late repentance, that live, as if there were no Justice to feare, and die, as if there were no mercy to bee hoped. And these are they, that when it is said, Restore what you have taken, answer, You make me die of Laughter. Consider that you are old, that sinne findes not any thing more to consume in you; forsake this Woman that you unlawfully embrace. Regard how the Devill mockes you, who are now no more unto him but an improfitable booty. You make mee die of Laughter. Aske God for­givenesse, and turne unto him, for you have already one foot in the grave. You make mee die of [Page 62] Laughter, I was never more jo­cond, never more lusty. And these are they that being sicke, when they are exhorted to rely upon God, and order their estate by a religious will, answer, that they have beene many times in the same case: but finde themselves in the other World, before they can be perswaded they are going thither. Heere I could not con­taine my selfe, from this use, Lord! thou hast given but one life and are there so many Deaths? Grant, I beseech thee, that if I returne againe, I may change my condition, and beginne to live well, that I may die lamented.

I had scarce uttered these words, but I heard the voyce cry­ing, The Dead, the Dead, the Dead; and instantly saw the Earth be­ginne to open, and the bodies of [Page 63] men and women, halfe buried in their winding-sheets, to arise; who ranked themselves in order, observing a silent taciturnity. Take each his turne, said Death, when behold one of them came near me with such fury, that I be­gan to feare the bastinado. Hellish worldlings, said he, What would you with mee? Why let you mee not alone, dead, and at rest? What have I done unto you? I that without offending in part, am defamed in all, and made guilty of those things I am alto­gether ignorant of? And what are you, said I, whom I neither know nor understand? I am, said he, the unhappy Abraham Ninny, that have bin here many years, and yet you doe nothing but mocke and deride mee. When any folly or extravagancy is committed, [Page 64] Oh! 'tis an Abraham, say you presently, Did you ever heare the like? What a Ninny-hammer hee is growne? Why, a very foole would not have done it? But know, that in acting and spea­king follies, you your selves are all Abrahams, worse than you suppose mee to have beene. And for proofe, Tell me, Have I made any ridiculous wils as you men, by which you command others to doe those things, which you would never doe your selves? Have I rebelled against the po­tent, or hoped to renew my youth? Have I strived to reforme Nature, and contested with her in colouring and poudering my haire? Have I sworne untruths? Am I faithlesse in those things which I have promised, as you are dayly? Have I beene a slave [Page 65] to my money? or played away my estate? Have I consumed it in banquets? or given it to Curte­zans? Did I suffer my selfe to bee masterd by my Wife? or beleeve that I might rely on that man, who at my perswasion betraied his friend that trusted in him? Did I marry my selfe to bee re­veng'd of an inconstant Mistresse? or credit that there might bee built any sure foundation on the slippery Wheele of Fortune? Have I esteemed them happy that consume their dayes in Princes Courts, for the vanity of a mo­mentary looke? or taken delight in Hereticall Controversies, to bee accounted witty? Have I boasted unto people that are be­low mee? or beleeved in Witches and framers of Nativities? If A­braham have done no such foppe­ry, [Page 66] of what folly can you accuse him? Poore Ninny! rash and in­solent that you are, wherefore doe you impute your disorders unto mee, that never learnt any thing but patience; and was of so innocent and naturall a life, that it added an impossibility to wrong any man.

As wee were thus discoursing, another that walked very grave­ly, came to mee, and with a com­manding eye, said, Looke this way. What is your Ladiship, said I, you that speake so imperiously, and presume to bee respected, in a place where all are equall? I am (said she) Queene Richard, whom if thou knowest not, yet thou hast often heard of; for you that live are so devillish, that the dead cannot bee excepted from your malice. If you see an old wall, an [Page 67] old hat, a thread-bare cloake, ragged coate, or a woman that hath a treasury of years upon her, you say instantly, that they are as old as Queene Richard. But you are mad, my time was better than yours: and to justifie what I say, heare but your selves talke. Now if a Mother thinkes to instruct her Daughter in modesty, and say, Daughter, it is fitting that a Virgin that will conserve her ho­nour, should alwayes keepe her­selfe within the bounds of shame­fastnesse, and looke downeward: her Daughter will arrogantly an­swer, Mother, that was a custome in Queene Richards time. 'Tis for men to looke upon the Earth, as upon the matter from which they were formed; and for women to looke upon men, as being extra­cted from them. If a Father say [Page 68] to his Sonne, Sonne, feare God, keepe his Commandements, pray unto him when you rise, and when you goe to bed; eate not without blessing, and rise not without giving thankes▪ play not, sweare not: hee will alleage the same author, Father, that was the fashion in Queene Richards dayes. So that, hee is derided that rules himselfe according to holy in­structions, and men are sooner knowne by their oathes than beards.

But leaving this, that you may understand the dead are not all so lockt up in eternall quiet, but that their desires have freedome of enquiry, Is there any newes stirring? How stands the state of Europe? The Spanish Fleets goe well enough, said I▪ but of late yeares the Hollanders beginne to [Page 69] take rude tribute from them. And the Genoes have by way of bancke encroached so farre on his Principalities, that (like Leeches) they not onely stop the veines, but draw the mines dry. Sonne, said shee, as long as the King of Spaine shall have the Hollanders for Enemies, the way to the In­dies will never be free. And as for the Genoes, they are likely to become a stately Senate, (like their City) If the Canker enter not their magazin of store, and immoderate lust, convert all in Bordello. But, how goes the cre­dit of the world? There is much to bee said thereupon, said I, you have touched a string that makes a noise indeed: every man hath his credit in himselfe, every one is esteemed, and every one doth all things in point of honour.

[Page 70] There is credit in all estates, yet shee shifts places every day, and is by this time seven stages under ground. Those that steale, say it is to maintaine their cre­dit, and that they had rather rob than begge. Those that begge, say it is to keepe their credit, and that they had rather begge than steale. Those that beare false wit­nesse and those that murder say the same thing. And all men call credit that which tends most to their profit, and (presuming on their owne worth and estimati­on) undervalew and defame the rest. All is now perverted. Lying is counted vertue, wiles and fet­ches are the chiefest qualities of a Cavalier, and insolency and im­pudency are the badges of genti­lity. Heretofore the Ilanders were men of credit, and kept them­selves [Page 71] in a moderation of all things; but now there are ill tongues abroad, that say, Savages may instruct them, and that their abstinence is more for covetous­nesse than sobriety.

Counsellours and Lawyers, How doe they thrive? As nests of Ants, that from one breed a mil­lion. Justice that in ancient dayes went naked, as representing since­rity, is now so swadled with pa­per, as if she were a nest of Spices. And whereas heretofore we had but one booke of Lawes, there are now a thousand, the cause of so many squablings & divisions, being every ones private expositi­on. If you goe to some Lawyers, let your cause bee what it will, they will assure you good pro­ceeding, and tell you, 'tis a faire quaere, and wants nothing but stu­dy, [Page 72] but that at that instant they are something busie, about a case betweene Iohn Ash and Iohn Okes, so that they cannot minde it. Yet if you will call some other time, they will revise it better. And after you have well paid them, (for money is the spirit of the worke, and the true light of their understanding) you shall reap nothing but protraction, and may without difficulty instruct your selfe the event. Happy are we (said the Queene) that are free from such disturbances! but I beleeve there are many good and honest men amongst them, that may bee Antipodes to those thou describest.

Doth Venice stand yet? How? Stand? Yes (said I) it stands with a vengeance: for that is a Com­mon-wealth that maintaines it [Page 73] selfe, beyond all conscience. But if they should restore what they unjustly detaine from others, none need to suspect their pover­tie. I must needs say it is a plea­sant State, a Citie founded in the Water, a Treasurie and Free­dome in the Aire, and a Duke­dome whom many dread. But 'tis withall, the channell and sinke of Monarchies, by which they purge the filth of Peace and Warre. The Turke suffers them to molest Christians, and Chri­stians permit them to injure the Turke, and they tolerate one an­other, to mischiefe both the one and the other; so that by others dissention, they maintaine their owne vastnesse, which will swell them up, till their great ambiti­on burst them.

But methinkes thou speakest [Page 74] not of England, (said the Inter­rogatresse) Canst thou bee un­mindfull of thine owne Soyle? Tis not for want of duty, replied I, but because it is too full of splendour for me to comment on without admiration. Pietie in the Prince, Justice in the Magistrate, Religion in the Minister, and Obedience in the Subject, having so absolute glory, that not onely her bordering Nations congratu­late her Peace, but all the World stands gazing at her opulency, who is the sparkling Diamond in the universall Ring. I am glad (answered Queene Richard) that goodnesse and fidelity have so strong a Tower, and hope Justice will hereafter restraine those ca­lumnies, are undeservedly throwne upon mee. This said, shee with­drew.

[Page 75] The next that appeared was a gray-haird man, with a large beard hanging downe to his gir­dle; whom I tooke to bee one of those wilde ones, that wee see in the kingdome of painting. And hee seeing mee stare, said, My art tels mee that you are desirous of my knowledge, it is Erra-pater that speakes to you, Is it possible (said I) that that Gallimaufry of Prophesies, which runne up and downe under your name, should be your worke? Bold-face! (an­swered hee) Darest thou so rashly offend the secrets of the gods, and the Fates interpreter? Inhu­mane Worldlings! who despise that learning that is above your reach: Finde you any Galli­maufries in my Predictions? Can you bee so brutish, that you can­not understand the sense of these words?

[Page 76]
On things to come revolving oft;
I finde that Earth, nor Water soft,
Shall ought produce, or fructifie;
But what shall please Divinity.

Animals! benumm'd and har­dened in vice. If this Prophesie should bee fulfilled, Could there be a greater good desired? If that which pleases God, and that, that hee would have, were done; Justice would rule the World, In­nocency and Sanctity would dwell with us, and wee should no more obey the Devill, nor love those things which most please him; as vaine delights, oppressi­on, and money in its excellencie, but a vagabond of the nature of women that love to bee gadding. But to my presages.

[Page 77]
If Parties be arightly sped,
The married shall be married.

I could not abstaine from laughter, which hee seeing, Ma­stive (said he) that barkest at all, I find that thou hast not teeth hard enough, to breake the bone, & find out the marrow of this Prophe­sie: therefore listen, or I shall make you, since you were brought hi­ther to that end. Thinke you that all that are wedded are married? You deceive your selves by the just halfe; know there bee many married that live as in single life, and many of a single life that live as if they were married. And there bee many men that marry and die Batchelours from their Wives, and many Women that die Virgins from their Hus­bands: [Page 78] because it is the fashion of the time.

I doe protest (said I) that wee have done ill to wrong those en­thusiasmes of spirit, by our mis­interpretation, but you must par­don it, because wee wanted you to unriddle them; they being truer than wee tooke them for, and of more efficacy expounded by your mouth. Command therefore (said hee) that henceforth a more reve­rend esteeme bee made of my o­raculous writings; whereof I will unfold one more:

Many Women shall become Mo­thers;
And the Children that they doe beare
Shall be the Children of their Fa­thers.

[Page 79] Can you except against this? I tell you there are many married men, that if they either would or could make an exact search, would finde those Children to bee none of theirs, that call them Father. A Womans belly is very subject to caution; and Children being got in obscurity, it is very hard to finde out the Labourers: we must beleeve the deposition of the Wife, and many times the suppo­sition. How many people doe you thinke there will bee at the latter day, who hold now great rankes in the world, that will bee constrained to acknowledge for their Fathers, Pages of their housholds, followers, Physicians, Gentlemen Ushers, and may bee Coachmen that have beene well lasht fort? How many Fathers will then finde themselves with­out [Page 80] Posterity, and true Suc­cessours beyond credulity. You shall see all this when you come thither, for in that place Truth will appeare more cleare than the Sunne.

Having spoken, Erra Pater left me, with an answer hanging on my tongue, and vanished. When looking backe, I perceived a leane, pale, lanke, melancholy body, apparelled all in white. Take pitie upon mee, (said hee) and if thou art a Christian, bee charitable; deliver mee from the injuries of impudent and igno­rant men, who ever molest mee, and put mee where they please themselves. Here he cast himselfe at my feet, and tearing his haire, wept like a Childe. Unhappy Creature, said I, What art thou? I am one, ancient and respected, [Page 81] (said hee) whose name and fame the world abuses, by many false allegations. My name is Alter, or Another. You must needs have heard of me, for there is nothing that Another speakes not. Those that cannot allege a reason them­selves, say alwayes, as saith Ano­ther, & yet I never speak nor open my lips. The Latins call me Qui­dam, and make use of mee to fill up the lines and periods in bookes. I intreat you therefore to doe mee the favour when you goe backe, to relate that you have seene Alter, cloathed in white, who writes nothing, sayes no­thing, nor hath ever done any thing; and that all that cite and quote mee lie: to the end that henceforth by your mediation, I may no more bee the Ideots Au­thour, and the Fooles proofe. In [Page 82] brawles and quarrels they call me Some body, in difficulties, I know not well who, in the seats of Ora­tors A certain Authour, and in Ci­tizens houses No body, and all to disguise the name of poore Alter, and accuse him of their imperti­nencies, who is your suppliant for redresse. This I promised, and he departed, and gave place to Ano­ther.

A man (hee was) of aspect good enough, if hee had not had a paire of hornes upon his head, and made signes as if hee would have beate mee; at which being nothing daunted, Who brought hither (said I) this Signior Cornu­to? which words were hardly ut­tered, but behold us both toge­ther by the eares, till the dead parted us. I doe not disallow of the quality, said he, because there [Page 83] are greater men than my selfe that weare the horne, but yet me­thinkes the world might speake something of them, and not all of me. What have I done, that many others have not done a thousand times more? The horne, hath it found its end in mee? or have I rebelled against my supe­riours with it? Have I enhaunc'd the price of lanthornes, inke­hornes, or posthornes? and is there not enough to make knife­handles, and shooing-hornes? Wherefore then doe your scoun­drell Poets afflict mee? And of what doe you condemne mee, when there was never beast of my condition more peaceable? They shall not leave thee yet, said I, but torment thee more, such a scope of matter I will de­liver when I returne. But I will [Page 84] hinder thee, said hee, and there­upon wee fell againe to buffets. In this agitation of spirit I awa­ked, and found my selfe in a trembling sweat, as weary as if the combat had been reall. Then calling to minde all that I had seene, I converted it to my parti­cular benefit; judging, that there is no jesting among the dead, and that those people, that are out of all partiality and abuse of the World, are more fit to give wholesome Counsell than ridi­culous advice.

VISIONS.
The third Vision: OR, The Last Iudgement.

MAny are the opinions of men concerning Dreames, and many doe conclude a faith to be given them, in these dayes; which I will neither contradict, nor approve; yet I count it not unlawfull to regulate a transitory [Page 86] life by them, especially if they bee of the nature of my last, which thus happened unto me.

One Evening, after I had long examined my selfe, by that glasse of Salomon, Ecclesiastes, Sleepe laid his leaden mace upon mee at the end, and this Verse, God will bring every worke into Judgement, with every secret thing, whether it be good or evill. When,

Methought,

I saw a most beautifull Youth flie in the Aire, and blow a Trum­pet; the forcing of his breath much lessening the sweetnesse of his naturall complexion: yet did the sound thereof find obedience in Marble, and in the dormitories of the dead: for instantly all the Earth beganne to move, and give [Page 87] place to bones, which sought one another. Those which had beene Generals, Captaines, Lieute­nants, and Souldiers, came first out of their Sepulchres, provo­ked with courage, as if the Trumpe had beene a signall to warre. Covetous men issued ama­zed, beleeving that it was for pil­lage. And they that had given themselves over to wantonnesse, conceived it a summons to some Masque or Enterlude. These things I knew by their severall gestures, but saw not one amongst them all, that thought it was to Judgement. Some Soules drew neare with horrour and disdaine of their owne Bodies, and others would not approach at all, see­ing them so deformed. Some wanted an arme, others a thigh, and others their heads, yet did [Page 88] they not long seeke them, giving mee therein a subject whereby to admire the Power of God, in that being mixt together, none tooke the legges or armes of their Neighbours.

When all the congregated understood that it was the great Day of Iudgement, it was a notable thing to see, how that the Luxurious would not finde their eyes, to the end that they might not beare witnesse against them. Detractours would not acknowledge their tongues, for the same cause; and Theeves made use of their feet, to flie from their hands. Here I heard a Miser aske another (who because hee was embalmed, staid for his entrals, which were coffin'd farre off from that place) if all that were buried should rise againe, and if [Page 89] the bagges that hee had interr'd should rise with him? And there I saw a troop of Cutpurses, whofled from their eares (which were offerd them) fearing they should heare what they desired not.

These things I might well be­hold, being mounted on a banke of earth; but hearing a cry at my feet which bad mee descend, I obeyed, and many handsome women put forth their heads, cal­ling me ill bred, and unmannerd, for not giving more respect unto them: (for in Hell also they have this folly to beleeve that men ought to respect them) They ap­peared very jocond to see them­selves of such exquisite frame, and were not ashamed of their nakednesse. But when they knew it was the Day of Wrath, and their beauty beganne to accuse [Page 90] them within, they put themselves in the way of the valley, with a slow and lingring pace. One that had beene thrice wedded, went inventing excuses for all her Hus­bands, to whom severally she had deeply sworne, never to remarry: and another said, that shee had forgot her night-cloathes, thin­king that they would stay for her at some place of meeting. In this place Physitians were thrust for­ward, by Patients whom they had dispatched, by anticipation of time. And in that a Judge stood washing his hands, from the innocent blood, that by bri­bery lay upon him. Divers Divels driving before them Vintners and Tailours, a Lawyer peeping out of his Tombe, asked whither they went? and being told, to the righteous Iudgement of God, [Page 91] to which they were all called; he strove to sinke himselfe deeper into his Grave, saying, there is so much way already made, if I must descend lower. A Taverner sweating extreamly, a Devill told him, that he did well to sweat out his water, for hee would burne the better: and this was one of those, that kept a Taverne out­wardly, but a Stewes within. A bow-legged Tailour went insul­ting, I have neither wine nor wa­ter to answer for, for I ever eate more than I drinke, but why doe they say I steale? which another hearing told him, that hee did a great deale of wrong so to de­spise the Trade. In their walke they met with highway robbers, whom the Divels caught and put amongst them, saying, that they might well beare them company, [Page 92] because they were (a la mode) wild Tailours. And after these went Folly compassed on all sides with Poets, Musicians, and Lo­vers and with all kindes of peo­ple besides, that were ignorant of that Day, who in troopes came to the Vale, where silence was imposed on all.

The Throne was decked by the hand of the Almighty, and by the same Miracle, God was adorned with himselfe, with mer­cy for the Elect, and wrath for the Reprobate. The Sunne, Moon, and Starres were his Footstoole; the winde was husht, the waters calme, the Earth still, and timo­rous, ready to bee entranc'd for the love shee bore her Children; and all things in generall very pensive and heavy. The Just were busied in giving thankes to God, [Page 93] and praising his Goodnesse, and the Sinfull were inventing strata­gems, to moderate their chastise­ments. Angels witnessed both by their gate and phisnomy, the care they had to comfort and wel­come the Godly. And Divels were ready to unfold their accu­sations; and least that any should overslip them, they had set the tenne Commandements to keepe the Doore, which was of that straightnesse, that the leanest and most mortified bodies were faine to leave some part of their flesh behinde them, the entrance was so narrow.

The Examination beganne at Adam, who was required to give account for an Apple; which Iudas minding, and the astonish­ment hee was in, cried out, Woe is me, what account shall I make, [Page 94] that have sold the Lord of Life, and the Lambe of God? Then passed the first Fathers, and after the New Testament, the Apo­stles, who were all seated neare the Chaire of Majesty. And it was a thing worthy of note to see, that there was no respect of persons, but that Beggars and Kings were mixt together, when they went nigh the Divine Pre­sence. Herod and Pilate appeared, and perceiving the wrath of God (though encompassed with Glo­ry) Pilate said, Hee that will comply with the times, deserves no lesse; and Herod, I cannot goe into Paradise, for there those Innocents I slew will cry out a­gainst me, but why doe I chaffer? Hel is a common Inne. A man of a fiery looke started up, and stretching out his arme, said, See [Page 95] there my attestation of master­ship! Every one wondering, asked the Porter who hee was? but hee overhearing, answered, I am an approved Master of Defence, and these papers are Certificates of my tried valour. Letting them fall, a Devill stooped to gather them up, but the Fencer was more nimble than he, who leaped backward, and drawing his ra­pier, said, This Steele cannot be [...] equalled, and if you either budge or speake, I will quickly shew that I am my Arts master. All the Company beganne to smile, and hee was commanded, seeing that hee had but instructed an art, which was one of the principall causes of so many Duels and slaughters, that hee should goe into Hell by a perpendicular line: but hee answering, that hee [Page 96] was no Mathematician, a Divell gave him a by-blow and cast him into the pit. Then came Treasu­rers and Stewards, who deman­ding an Advocate, a Divell an­swered, behold Iudas, a discar­ded and outcast Apostle, let him speake, for hee hath exercised both professions; which they hearing, went to the other side, and saw another Devill, that had not hands enow to turne over the leaves, were written against them.

Leave all these informations, said the stoutest of them, and let us compound; Ha, ha, said hee, that read the inditement, Doe you demand composition? Then 'tis a signe your game is naught. This they understanding, and that no offers would be accepted, tooke the way of the Fencer, [Page 97] because they had beene as good men of their hands as hee, and better. They being gone, Loe an unfortunate pastry Cooke, whose adverse party beganne to accuse him; which hee seeing, and fin­ding by proofe, that hee had put more kindes of meate into his pies and pasties, than there were beasts in Noahs Arke (there being neither Rats, Mice, nor Flies) turned his backe, and leaving the word in the Devils mouth, went to see if the place were hot. Then came Philosophers, who made syllogismes against their salvati­on. And Poets, who would have perswaded the omnipotent, that hee was that Iupiter whom they had so often nominated in their workes. Virgil alleaged his Sicelides Musae, saying, that it was the figure of the Nativity: [Page 98] and Orpheus as the most ancient Poet, stood up to speake for all; but a Divell accusing him, for having instructed the way of ma­king love to mankinde, hee was commanded to enter once more into Hell, to try if hee could get out againe; and obeying served as a Guide to his Companions. A rich Usurer knocked, and be­ing asked what hee would have, was told that the ten Comman­dements kept the Doore, and that hee had never kept them. In that which concernes keeping, said hee, it is impossible, I have swerved; the first Commande­ment saith, Thou shalt have none o­ther gods but me▪ and I think I have observed it, for I have kept Gold (the worldlings god) so secret, that neither others nor my selfe might make it the object of their [Page 99] veneration. The second, Thou shalt not make to thy selfe any gra­ven Image, and I have kept in­gots and wedges these many yeares, that there might neither stampe nor image come upon them. The third, Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy God in vaine, and I have never sworne in vaine, but alwayes for some great interest. The fourth, Remember that thou keepe holy the Sabbath day, and I have all the weeke long provided hiding places for my treasure, that on that day it might not molest my rest. Honour thy Father and thy Mother, I have alwayes greatly reverenced them, in that I have given them the preheminence, especially in all bad actions. Thou shalt doe no murder, and I did never scarce eate, because that [Page 100] to feed is to kill hunger. Thou shalt not commit adultery▪ I never did it, for women in that way are not tractable without money; but if you will let mee come in (said he, who beganne to be wea­ry with so many interrogatories) let us not loose time, for hee was so great an enemy to losse, that hee would husband time it selfe; but saying this, he was led where he deserved. Divers Theeves fol­lowed, some of them so active, that they saved themselves in leaping from the ladder. Lawyers coveted the like good fortune, but they were set to goe through the eye of a needle. Scriveners denied their name, saying, they were Se­cretaries, but Proctours stood to it, saying, they were the procu­rers of others good; but there was no defence for either of [Page 101] them. One Devill seeing a Physi­cian, an Apothecary, a Surgeon, and a Barber comming, gave them thankes for most of the Compa­ny, sen [...] thither by their meanes; and commanded some of his vas­sals to usher them downe, that they might assay if they could cure the burning Feaver. Another perceiving one to peere out of an hole where hee had hid himselfe, asked what hee was? who re­plied, an Empericke. What! Saltinbanke, Mountebanke, and my Friend, said the Devill! It were better for thee to bee upon some scaffold at some corner of a Street, to passe away the time with idler persons; but since thou art come, thou shalt not want pre­ferment: goe thy wayes into that quarter, and see if thy balsame bee efficacious against scalding; [Page 102] so he went on his Friends word. The plea of Taverne-keepers was, that they had quenched the thirst of many poore persons; and of Tailours, that they had cloathed many; but this hindred their dispatch. Then Bankers deman­ded treaty, but their Sentence was pronounced, and bils of ex­change were given them, to bee paid out of Pluto's Coffers, where there is no bottome. And afterwards place was given to Women, who approached with pleasing and smiling countenan­ces, endeavouring by those meanes to prevaile: but as soone as they saw the horrid aspects of Divels, they beganne to shrike out, and antedate their condem­nation. Bailiffes, Sergeants, Mar­shals, and many more were yet to bee judged, who being called, [Page 103] said they would willingly suffer, without any further triall.

The last was an Astrologer, crying out, that they were mista­ken in the calculation of yeares, and that it yet could not bee the Day of Iudgement; because the Heaven of Saturne, and the mo­ving Heaven had not finished their course: but the Devill re­buking him, said, I wonder that among so many Heavens which you have made in your life-time, you were never so provident as to erect one for your selfe! for which default, you must now bee transported into Hell, which was accordingly executed.

Upon this the Iudgement en­ded, the Throne was taken up, the shadowes fled to their place, the Aire was filled with milde Zephirs, the Earth was enamel­led [Page 104] with flowers, and the Hea­vens were cleare and translucent; and I was in my bed, more joy­full than sorrowfull, that I was not yet dead: therefore that I might make use of my Dreame, I undertooke a constant resolve, to keepe a strict watch over my Conscience; that I may have a defensive armour, when there are no more delayes to hope for, and the soveraigne Judge shall call me before himselfe.

VISIONS.
The fourth Vision: OR, The Foole Amorous.

VPon a Winter-January mor­ning, about fo [...] a clocke, when cold and sloth kept mee buried under my rugge, better at ease than on a biere, consulting with [Page 106] my pillow upon an amorous fan­cy that came in my minde. I found my selfe quite strayed from my former meditations, & beheld the spirit of Fallacy, which pre­sented to my imagination Loves inconstancy; verily thinking I heard this Verse.

Ala [...]! Coridon, what folly possesses thee?

Afterward not knowing which way I was led, I came into a meddow a thousand times more pleasant than those which are ordinarily mentioned in the inventions of Poets; where looking about, I espied two de­lightfull Rivers, that in their la­byrinthian Meanders water'd it. The waters of the one were bit­ter, of the other sweet, yet they [Page 107] mingled together with so peace­able a purling murmur, that they charmed the eares of those that heard them, and qualified affe­ctions anxiety. These in their sportive motion directed mee to a goodly faire Palace, of admira­ble structure, seated in the midst of the Field. The portals were of Dorian worke, richly inlaid, and on the pedestall, bases, pil­lars, cornishes, chapters, archi­traves, frizes, and other adjuncts, there were engraved all the tro­phies and triumphs of that great (yet little) God: which with many other devices added radi­ancy of lustre to the worke. Over the chapter there was this in­scription in letters of Gold, cut upon blacke Marble.

[Page 108]
Blest and most happy is this place,
In ever youthfull Love;
Who crownes the noble and the base,
As their demerits move.

The diversity of stones and co­lours delighted admirably the sight: the portall was spacious, and the doore perpetually open, to let those freely enter whom singularity brought; and the place of Porter was allotted to a woman, who seemed to be of the nymphall race; her visage was celestiall, lineaments amiable, and body perfectly straight, shee was cloathed in cloath of Gold and Silver, glittering with pearles and stones of price, and was an enchantment to all that beheld her, leading captive their iron hearts in chaines of Adma [...]t: [Page 109] and though shee was in all things like her name Beauty, yet did she not insult nor deny entrance to any, if they paid for their pas­sage a good looke; of whose fa­vours I made use of and went in­to the first Court, where I found abundance of all Sexes, but so changed from their pristine grace that the very memory of it was forgotten; instead whereof they had put on Loves livery, dejected eyes, yellow resemblance, and mournfull representations.

Their talke reflected not upon the faith that is to bee kept with friends, loyalty to masters, nor respect to blood; but their kin­dred were mediatours to their owne alliance. Servants became mistresses, and mistresses servants. Women contracted amity with their Husbands acquaintance, and [Page 110] Husbands grew intimate with their Wives companions.

On this medly of affections did I stare, when I perceived a creature not perfectly man, nor rightly woman, but partaking of both; who went and came through the multitude, having on a loose garment, spotted over with eyes and ears; which mar­king, and the authority she exer­cised, I demanded her condition, and what she did? to which two questions shee thus answered mee. I am Jealousie, the greatest cause of the increase of these sicke and mad persons, which thou seest; neverthelesse I am not engaged to heale, but to chastise them. Que­stion not mee of any other parti­culars, for it is a miracle when I speake truth; because I lessen from my selfe in the delivery, be­ing [Page 111] nothing but sleights and de­vices: but goe to that aged man that walkes there, for hee is the overseer of the Palace, and (may bee) will instruct you (though slowly) in all that you require.

I did so, and found him to bee Time, of whom I intreated a sight of the roomes and cham­bers, and that I might visit some fooles of my acquaintance, whom I conjectured were there. He told me hee was busie in curing the diseased, yet notwithstanding shewed mee all things, in giving mee liberty to walke about. Pas­sing the first Court, I entred into the Maidens chamber, (for the women were separated) and these were kept in the strongest hold, where the wals were thic­kest, because of their vehement and violent passions: here I tooke [Page 112] notice of one that lamented, be­ing jealous of a married woman; and of another that was carried with burning affection to a yong­ster, yet durst not declare it. How one writ letters full of ambigui­ties, where there were more lines dasht out than good words; and another studied with her glasse how to smile and simper, and act the fictive humours, she meant to play her Lover: that eate oat­meale, plaister, jeat, and small coale, to obtaine a pale colour: and this intreated her servant, that in the mornings hee would give her a Serenade of Musique at her chamber window, which implied, that hee should publish to all the neighbours that he was her enamor'd; this held love letters which she let fly through windowes, and thrust under [Page 113] doores: and that protested to her friend her heart was his, de­siring him not to require any thing more; which he promis'd, and the foole beleeved. Some would marry, to love with more liber [...]y: and others desired to be with men already married, and these were rank'd in the number of incurable.

Having considered all, I durst not stay any longer, knowing by experience that a man runnes great hazard among such allurers: and that hee that gettes clearest off, is often condemned to slavery in the bonds of marriage, which is an engagement to repentance all his life long, without other hope of redemption than by Death: for there is no order to redeeme those that are captives in the chaines of wedlocke, as there is [Page 114] for them that are under the hands of the Turke. I went therefore to the Married Women: and saw many of them whom their Hus­bands kept tied and cloistered up, to hinder the execution of their designes, that broke both Prison and chaines, and became m [...]dder than before. Some fawned on and flattered their Husbands, when they had most minde to abuse them: and some stole their money to pay their confederates, yet never tooke heed to the ac­count till the estate was ended: others went to heare Sermons, and on pilgrimages of Devotion, but it was to get the grace and mercy of their holy brethren, by sacrificing to Venus: and others went to Baths, sooner to pollute than cleanse themselves. Such an one recompenc'd her Husbands [Page 115] sinnes in the same kinde, verify­ing the adage, that None take greater delight to be revenged, than a woman when she avenges her selfe on her Husband with advantage. Such another went to see a Play, that she might be spoken with be­tweene the Acts. And this last af­fected her Coach so well, that shee was scarce ever out of it; of which desiring a reason, 'tis be­cause (said shee) I love to bee sha­ken. Among this honourable con­venticle those were not seene, whose Husbands were employed in Warre, Embassages, Merchan­dise, or forraigne Affaires; be­cause that they depending upon none other in that time, did con­taine themselves within the bounds of chastity, and as people exorcis'd, were not reputed mem­bers of this Common-wealth.

[Page 116] The next partition was of Widowes, armed with experience and knowledge, who counter­feited modesty and piety, yet ad­hered to their desires. One with her right eye wept for her dead Husband, and with her left laugh­ed to her living Friend; another was more muffled and vailed with passion than mourning, receiving joyfully the present, and forget­ting the absent. And others laid wagers, whose vailes and hukes be­came them best, endeavouring to convert that sad attire into allure­ment. Those that were old, imi­tated the actions of youth: and those that were more young, made use of the time, that they might not repent in their age. There were some adored, and some adorers, who being devout, were loves penitents, and in that [Page 117] respect condemned to fast from meats they most longed after, for the carnall have also their Lent. Many outwardly laid on modest colours, though inwardly impu­dent enough: and many were ve­ry insolent, and having heretofore beene Masters, would now make use of that imperious power; so that the Physitian had much adoe with them.

All these infirmities proceed onely through idlenesse, for where that is, lust findes easie ac­cesse. There were some Women who accepted more letters of dis­burse, than a Banquer of Genoa or a German Hoorder, upon cre­dit of their insatiable desires. Some would not be seene by him that was the visitour, but by the unexpected: and those that were most subtle, made use of their [Page 118] Physicians. One spake to an Astrologer, to cast a figure for her future life; and another desired of a Magitian secrets whereby she might bee beloved. And how many did I see, that would have seemed as ridiculous as Esops Crow, if their periwigs and frontlets of haire had been pluckt off! but, at last I got from them, shaking my head, and went to the mens quarter, on the other side of the building.

At my arrivall I observed, that the Batchelours greatest folly was obstinacy, for every one knew his errours, hut would not amend. O, that I saw many Gallants brave in apparrell, that had not so much as one penny! Many Roarers that had heretofore boa­sted and bragg'd of Ladies fa­vours, that would have beene very [Page 119] glad, if I had invited them to dinner! And how many were there that had no bread, and yet felt the temptations of the flesh? Some counterfeited the amiable, wearing perfumes and long lockes not remembring that women take alwayes the superiority of beau­ty upon themselves; and others, by their vaunts of warre would passe for Duellists, yet forgot that women are ever fearefull, and quake at the sight of a weapon; others at midnight walked the round about their Mistresses lod­gings; and others became amo­rous through infection, conver­sing with them that were so. This man on Sundayes went from Church to Church, to feed his eye with variety, and that went from house to house to exercise his wit. Some complained of [Page 120] more than they suffered, and o­thers endured without opening their mouthes. Those whose va­nity despised things beneath them, pretended to Subjects so high, that they lost their desire; and those that were distrustfull of their owne worth (though other­wise people of judgement and understanding) applied them­selves onely to meane objects. Husbands were enchained, yet not lesse mad; for some forsooke their Wives, and followed their neighbours; and others tooke for friends their Wives friends, and for Gossips the Mothers of their Children.

Widowers practis'd in torments past, searched rest where it was to be found, loving as short a while, and as long as they pleased; here being amorous, there jealous; [Page 121] and that which I found admira­ble in them all, was that they confessed themselves Fooles, yet left not to be so. Men that were most discreet, related their good fortune to those that published their disgraces; whilest shallow Dolts were commended for se­crecy. Some flattered the Cham­ber-maid, to get accesse to the Mistresse, and others suborn'd the Mistresse to overcome her. These had their pockets stuft with amorous lines, sealed with silke, and endorsed with gold; and had likewise bracelets, hat bands, knots, and favours, whereof they made survey: and these were the Husbands friends, and voluntari­ly employed themselves to ease his cares, lending him Horses, Coach, and money; whilest they hurried his Wife abroad to Gar­dens, [Page 122] Playes, and Banquets. There were divers Woers of Widowes, some that were beloved, and some not; some that let themselves ea­sily bee taken, and some that caught others. And there were many, that made their conquests with love and money, and these carried often the victory, be­cause they fought with double armes; yet sometimes they got the foile, and had not whereby to resist poverty.

Having at leasure surveyed all, I went backe into the first Court; where▪ Time thrust amongst the Company that encreased dayly, and by his industry recovered some. Jealousie punished those, who were most confident in the subject they lov'd. Memory rub­bed over old sores, Ʋnderstanding was hid in a darke hole, and [Page 123] Reason had her eyes pluckt out. And having contemplated the diversity of Dissimulation, I saw a litle wicket open, where Ingra­titude and Infidelity gave liberty of escape to some few: therefore to enjoy the present occasion, I doubled my pace, to get out with the first. When my Boy came and drew the Curtaine, telling mee that it was broad day; here­upon I awaked, somewhat dulled at my long stay, yet comforted in this, that I have found it by o­thers, and mine owne experience, that Love is nothing but meere and naturall folly.

VISIONS.
The fifth Vision: OR, The World in its Interior.

DEsire the Pilgrim of the Minde, that hates Rest, and delights in nothing but Motion, agitated my Spirit from one pas­sion to another; till it made mee admire, how so much good, such abundance of evill, should pro­ceed [Page 126] out of one Heart! and gave way to mine eyes to shut up my senses, and open my fancy to ap­prehend the consequent.

As in a Glasse, so the World appeared unto mee, populated onely with one City of excee­ding vastnesse; in which as I wan­dered, I marked the uniformity of the Building, and the neat­nesse of the Streets; but exposed my selfe withall to the derision of the Inhabiters, and as if it had been a Maze, could not finde the way out. Now I got into the Lane of Choler, and followed Quarrels through Scarres and Blood; and anon into the Street of Gluttony, gourmandizing and drinking; and not long after in­to the Market-place, where all Vices were compact.

In this distraction I was called [Page 127] unto by an Old man, of meane and tatterd attire, but of awfull port, and judicious respect. What are you, Good man, said I? Doe you envy my content? Let mee alone; you Old men are alwayes troubling the mirth of Young people, yet would not willingly leave pleasures your selves. You are going out of the World, and I am but newly come into it, give me (therefore) leave to rejoyce and bee merry; the venerable man (dissembling his griefe) be­ganne to smile; Sonne, said hee, 'tis not to hinder nor maligne thy desires, but through pity that I strive to with hold thee. Knowest thou what the value of an houre is? or the price of a day? and hast thou examined the worth of time? I beleeve not, seeing thou employest it so ill; that fugitive [Page 128] houres steale away, and robbe thee of so precious a Jewell. What have the dayes that are al­ready past said unto thee? Have they promis'd thee to come a­gaine, when thou hast need of them? No certainly. Alas! they goe and returne no more! and passing, looke backewards with smiles and jeeres on those that let them slip sounprofitably. There­fore make use of time while thou hast it, least when thou wishest most for it, time will be no more.

I must acknowledge, grave Fa­ther, said I, that your advice is excellent: but, what are you? and what doe you here? If my torne Garments, and Poverty (answered he) tell you not that I am an honest man, I must speake my selfe, a Lover of Truth; my name is The Worlds Disabuser; [Page 129] these rents come from such as make shew to helpe me, and these blowes and bruises are presents from many, to whom I have given no greater offence than a visit. What madnesse! the greatest part of the World say, that they de­sire and love mee, yet when I dis­cover the abuse of it, some de­spaire, others curse, and all de­spise mee. Now Childe, if thou wilt see the World, come with me, I will carry thee into the chiefe Street, where all things are be­held in open view, and shew thee how it is in its Interior parts; for thou seest nothing here, but the shell and appearance. What is that principall Streets name (said I) whither you will carry me? It is called (said hee) Hypocrisie, 'tis the Street where the World both beginnes and ends, and very great, [Page 130] for there is not any one whatsoe­ver, but hath either an house, or chamber at least in it. Some being constant dwellers, and others ter­mers, there being divers kindes of Hypocrites. See you that Fellow that stands there, he was a plough­mans Sonne, now a Gentleman. Would you take that man for a Tailour? yet hee is one, though cloathed like a Knight: and Hy­pocrisie is so generall an infirmity that it is found amongst all trades. The Cobler will be a Translator, the Cooper cals himselfe Bacchus Tailour, because hee makes cloathing for Wine, and the Horse-coursers stile is, Squire of the Field; the Alehouse is called an Academy; the Hangman a member of Justice; a Mounte­bancke an able man; the Dicernimble; a Taverne, a Banke; [Page 131] the Vintner, a Banker, or Master of Accounts; Stewes, houses of Commerce; Whores, Curtezans, Bawdes, devout Women; Cuc­kolds, patient men; lust, friend­ship; Usury, Oeconomy; De­ceit, Gallantery; lying, dexteri­ty; and malice, gentlenesse of spirit; cowardise, peace; rash­nesse, valour; a Page, a Childe of Honour; a Lacky, a Gentleman on foot; a Pickethanke, a Cour­tier; blacke, browne; and an Asse is calld a Doctour. But there is no­thing here that appeares in its owne forme, or that hath the pro­per name; but all the World is full of lyes, in what part soever you examine it. And if you note it well, you shall see that wrath, gluttony, pride, covetousnesse, luxury, sloath, murder, and a thousand others sinnes, proceed [Page 132] onely out of simulation: and that of all sinners, there is none so presumptuous as the Hypocrite; in as much as other bad livers sinne onely against God, but hee sinnes against God, and with God also, since hee makes him an instrument of his sinne; and for this cause our Saviour, willing to shew how amongst all others they were hatefull to him, after hee had given many affirmative precepts to his Disciples, he gave them one negative, saying, Bee not sad like Hypocrites: and as he taught them by many Parables, and Comparisons, what they should bee, now lights, now salt, sometimes like Guests, sometimes as the talent; so also he instructs them what they should not bee, Bee not like unto Hypocrites; to certifie unto them, that not being [Page 133] Hypocrites, they should not bee wicked, for the Hypocrite is wicked in all things.

Upon this discourse wee came into the great Street, where wee tooke an eminent place, to regi­ster all that passed. The first re­markable thing was a funerall Convoy, composed of a large re­tinue of Kindred and Friends, that followed the grief and heavi­nes of a Widower in close mour­ning, whose head hung downe, and gate was of that slownesse, as if he had not had strength suffici­ent to carry him to Church without a supporter: which compassionating, O happy Wo­man! (said I) that hast found a husband, whose love and faith­fulnesse, went hand in hand with thee in thy life time, and now followes thee to thy Grave! And [Page 132] [...] [Page 133] [...] [Page 134] happy man, who hast found so many Friends, that accompany not onely thy sadnesse, but seeme to exceed it. Good Sir, consider a little their anguish. O, that there is nothing but vanity! answered hee, all that thou seest is not done but by constraint, though those exterior outsides seeme to gain­say it. Seest thou those waxe lights, torches, and the rest of the hearse, who would not say but that they light and accompany something? and that it is for something that all this funerall pompe is made? but know, that that which is within the coffin is nothing, for the body was no­thing in its life time, Death hath lessened that nothing, and all the honours that are given unto it serve for nothing; but this is done, because the dead have their vani­ties [Page 135] and State, as well as the li­ving. There is nothing within but Earth, not able so much as to produce fruit, and more filthy to looke on, than the dirt on which thou treadest, that deserves no honour, and on which the share and plough have no predomi­nance: and that dolefulnesse, which thou thinkest to have no­ted in these Friends, is nothing but anger and madnesse, that they are not ranked according to their degree and ambition. The Widower also is not so afflicted for his Wives death as thou ima­ginest, but 'tis the expence that vexes him, seeing hee might have performed the ceremony with more ease, and lesse cost. He mut­ters within himselfe that she hath wrong'd him, in that seeing shee was to die, shee did not die sud­denly; [Page 136] without putting him to such charge in Physicians, Chirur­gians, and Apothecaries, who by their bils dispose his goods into parts: hee hath buried two with this, and takes such delight in being a Widower, that hee is up­on a treaty already with one, whom hee was a wel-willer unto during his old Wives sicknesse. Thou shalt see him shortly risen, from those deadly habiliments which interre him.

I was wonder-strooke at these speeches. Ah! that the things of this World (said I) are farre dif­ferent from what wee see them! hereafter I will bee more reserved in spending my judgement, and those things I shall clearest be­hold, will most doubt of. This buriall vanished so soone from our eyes, as if wee had not seene [Page 137] it, or beene likely to have made the same journey; and as if the deceased had not shewed us the way, speaking in a silent lan­guage; I goe before to stay for you, whilest you keepe the rest company, as I have heretofore done, with as much neglect, and lesse devotion.

Wee were hindred from thin­king on this, by a noise which we heard in an house behinde us; where wee were no sooner entred but the assembled beganne a lowd cry, accompanying the sobs and grones of a woman, newly be­come a Widow.

Their sorrowes were very live­ly, (yet availed not the dead) e­very minute they wrung their hands, and sent forth sighes that seemed to proceed from the cen­ter of their hearts. The chambers [Page 138] of the house were disrobed of their ordinary furniture, and the poore afflicted was laid on a bed, in a roome hung with blacke. One of he [...] Comforters said, Alas! all your teares are to no end, and I am unable to comfort you, being more grieved at your sorrow, than if it were mine owne: another, you ought not so much to macerate your selfe, because your husbands good life assures you that hee is in blisse: and another, that shee must bee patient, and conforme her selfe to the will of Heaven; which words made her double her complaints, and with greater vehemency to afflict her selfe; saying, O God! Why doe I live after the losse of so deare and loving a Compani­on? O! that I am unhappy in being borne! Woe is me! Whi­ther [Page 139] shall I goe? Who is there now that will take into his pro­tection a poore woman? a deso­late Widow? and helpe her in distresse?

At this pause, all the rest of the Quire, with instrumentall discord of their noses and handkerchers, deafened the house; and then I found, that in such occasions wo­men purge by their eyes and no­ses, some part of their bad hu­mours: notwithstanding I could not bridle my selfe from partici­pating some part of their griefe, and to turne towards my Condu­ctour with these words. Pity, said I, is very well bestowed on a Widow, because shee is forsaken of the world; the holy Scripture cals them mutes and tonguelesse, for so the Hebrew word signifies; there is none that speakes for [Page 140] her, and though she take so much courage as to speake for her selfe, yet none will heare her, so that that imports as much also as if shee were dumbe. Give mee leave therefore I pray you to commise­rate the like misfortune, and to mixe my teares with these wo­mens; and wherefore, said hee? To what purpose is it that thou knowest many things, if thou dost not make a right use of them? Observe a little and thou shalt see, how this Widow, that seemes externally to have her body made of Hosanna's, and her soule of Allelujahs; hath a sable shrowd, but greene heart. Seest thou the obscurity of this Cham­ber, and those vailes that cover their faces; these are to disguise their teares, which are nought but dissembling. Wilt thou com­fort [Page 141] them? let them alone: they will revell as soone as they see no body by them, that may serve as a subject to exercise their hypo­crisie. And then will the Gossips beginne their game; Come, come, will one say, bee comforted, you have an advantage, you dreame not of; your husband hath left you young, and there are brave men enow, who will seeke after and make very much of you. You know partly already the intenti­ons of such a Gentleman, I am confident that if he once obtaine you, he will be so kinde, that you will quickly forget the dead. Faith, if I were in your place, sayes another, I would not bee long pleasing my selfe; for one lost, there is ten found: I would practice the counsell my partner gives you. But I thinke you are [Page 142] much obliged to him, that visited you yesterday. What say you? Is hee not an handsome man? yes truly, and loves you extreamly. Alacke, alacke, will the Widow then answer, winking with her eyes, and drawing her lips toge­ther. Tis not time yet to speake of that, all depends on Gods pro­vidence, and he will ordaine it so, if hee finde it necessary; yet your counsell is not to bee neglected. Dost thou marke what extreame griefe shee suffers? her husband is but newly dead, and shee already wel-nigh married. Consider there­fore with thy selfe, how vaine and unprofitable these exclamations are, which thou hast made.

Hee had hardly ended, when wee heard in the Street a great hurly burly of people; and go­ing forth saw a Sergeant bleeding [Page 143] and out of breath, crying out, Assist the Kings Officers, and run­ning after a Debtour that fled from him. The Common-wealth is much beholding to this Fel­low, and ought very well to re­ward him, said I, seeing he thrusts his body into so great hazard, to save their lives and goods. See how hee is torne and bloudy, in having employed his strength and power for the good and rest of it.

Soft and faire, said the aged man, if I stop not your course you will never leave; Sonne, as­sure thy selfe that he that is fled is one of the Sergeants friends, with whom hee often carrous'd; who for not having made him par­taker of a late booty hee had ta­ken, the Marshall in spight would arrest, and cast into prison; but [Page 144] after he had broke from him, and soundly beat him, hee is esca­ped as you see; and had need to have good legges, seeing hee runnes against those, that are swifter than race-horses, where they thinke to bee well paid. But note, that it is not the least thought of the Weale publique that puts him on this action, but his private particular and malice in being made a Novice. For I as­sure you, that if his owne interest had not excited him to it, and that hee had not sought after him in way of revenge, the Thiefe is too much his Friend, and their combination is too great for the Law to take place. And though such as are decayed and in debt are their chiefest gaine, yet their revenues proceed from whips, the rope, and the gibbet. Therefore I [Page 145] wonder why the World that hates them so much, doth not re­solve to forsake vice and practice vertue, (though but for a yeare or two) to bee aveng'd and starve them. Tis a cursed office since their wages are paid by Belzebub.

Hee had spoken more, if hee had not beene deterred, by the great noise and ratteling of a Coach, in which was a Courtier, so swelled with pride, that he see­med to bee heavier than the foure horses which drew him: hee sate as upright as if he had been a sta­tue, and was very greedy in his lookes, but so disdainfull that every one offended him: his at­tendants on foot were many Lac­kies, and in the Coach a Jeaster and a Flatterer, who in obscene jeasts, and itching talke, past away the time. Happy art thou, said I, [Page 146] as soone as I saw him! without doubt the World is not made but for thee, seeing thou livest in plea­sure and greatnesse! Surely thy riches are well employed, seeing thou maintainest so great a train [...]! All that thou thinkest and spea­kest (said my Moderatour) is no­thing but surmise, yet hast thou truly said, that the World was made for him, since it is nought but vanity and folly, with which hee is puffed up. I beleeve if thou dive into his retinue, thou wilt see more Creditours than Ser­vants; for his food and lively­hood proceed onely from loane, credit, hope, and faire promises: and if the secrets of his Con­science were ript, the inventions, that hee uses to maintaine life, would bee found more irkesome, than if hee got his bread by del­ving. [Page 147] Seest thou that Buffoone and Sycophant? they are subtler than himselfe, for they deride, yet live upon him. Can there then bee a more miserable man, than such an one, who buyes flat­tery at so deare a rate, and thrusts himselfe into engagements to get nothing but false reports? Foo­lish Lord▪ hee is ravisht with the adulation of these two, who per­haps have told him, that there is no Courtier his equall, that the Ladies have no object more plea­sing, nor conversation more en­ticesive; when they doe it onely to soothe and impoverish him.

Last of all, a Lady passed by us, whose gesture and behaviour was so gracefull, that shee attra­cted all the beholders. Shee went with an artfull carelesnesse, hiding her face from those th [...]t [Page 148] had already beheld her, and shew­ing it to such as tooke no notice of it: her visage was snow and roses, which contrary to the or­der of nature united themselves: her lips vilified Corall; her teeth Pearle; and her hands Jessamine; and in briefe she was the Epitome of earthly beatitude: and I my selfe was more inflamed with a desire to follow her, than any other object I had seene; but at the very first step my Guide stayed mee, yet not without my expression of discontent in these termes: hee must bee infinitely barbarous, that is insensible of the delicacy of so excellent a beauty, as this is: how fortunate is he who meets with so favoura­ble an opportunity! and how worthy that shall injoy her! what unknowne pleasures is hee [Page 149] master of, that in all liberty pos­sesses a faire wife, who had not beene made but for the love of man? what lightenings and thun­der shot from her eyes? what en­chantments and fetters for a free Soule? was ever Ebony so blacke as her eye-browes? Chrystall cannot brag of so much clear­nesse as her front. Certainly, this is the master-peece of nature, and the haven of all desired wishes. Till this present, said my aged Friend, I thought thee onely blinde, but I see thou art both blinde and foolish. Did I not tell thee that the eyes were made to see, but that it is for the under­sta [...]ding to make election? Know, that this woman, who seemes so really perfect, slept yester-night very ugly, and now is nothing but prime and plaister; [Page 150] the haire shee weares came from the Tire-women, for her owne was blowne away with an ill winde that came from France, and if any remaines, shee dares not shew it, least it should accuse her of the time past: her eyes have no other browes than those which a pensill makes, nor her haire any other colour; neither doth her pulchritude proceed from any other nature, than A­lembicke waters, essences and painting. Kisse her, and shee is oile; embrace her, pastboord; and bed her, an Anatomy. Upon what then is thy judgement foun­ded, that thou thinkest her so ac­complisht? Thine eyes, have they not betraid thee? Admire then thine ignorance, and understand (not to trouble my selfe with this womans imperfections) that most [Page 151] of the Sexe are Hypocrites, and that the wise mans saying can ne­ver bee contradicted, One man a­mong a thousand have I found, but a woman among all those have I not found. So I awaked.

To the REader.

Reader, I here present thee with a Vision of Hell, as a proviso whereby to amend thy life. Therefore if thou intendest from this houre to beginne, bee not culpable of thine owne vice, in calling me Detractor, or evill speaker, seeing that none can calumniate the Dam­ned. If Hell seeme to bee too great, take what portion thou wilt, and be silent: Is it not a cur­tesie when thou hast as much or as litle pain given thee as thou plea­sest? [Page] And bee not amazed if thou finde nothing but horrour and obscurity, for thou maist well thinke that neither the Sunne nor joy inhabit there. I need not begge any ingenuous mans approbation, nor feare any envious mans censure. If my Booke please thee, thou maist drive away thy idlenesse with it; or otherwise, bring it to light upon thy chimny hearth. At which I will not bee offen­ded, since I have given thee counsell so to doe; nor the Bookseller neither, if thou hast paid him for it.

VISIONS.
The sixth Vision: OR, Hell.

TWas Autumne, a time that invited many to their countrey hou­ses, to receive the fruits of the Earth, and partici­pate the second Spring: a Sea­son of retirement that called me also, though to no mansion of [Page 156] mine owne, yet to a receptacle of my Friends where I found the; refreshment as healthy, and the artlesse Groves to yield as pleasant a solitude, as the artifici­all Wildernesses of the great. In so much, as it quite altered my wonted study, from the dange­rous shelves that many are split on, to the harmelesse Mountaines of Innocency and Labour: and from corrupted riches, and deli­cious fare, to low feeding and elated Soules. On which drea­ming under my meane Canopy, I was transported through the neighbour Wood, into a place farre from home, of no more night; and to one of the most delicate prospects that could bee presented, where the serenity and temperature of the Aire, did in their gentlenesse fanne the heat, [Page 157] and ravish the Senses. On one side the Rivers of liquid Chrystall prattled with the gravell and flin­ty borders, on another the Trees conversed with their Aspin mur­mur, and in the midst of these the Birds sung; I know not whether in emulation of Plants and Foun­taines, or by way of parallell to give them musique for musique: but for as much as our desires are vagabond, and dulled with the much enjoyment of any one thing, solitude beganne now to be troblesome, and I was impati­ent for association: when at the same instant (a marvelous thing) I saw two wayes whose birth came from one place, which se­parated themselves by little and little, till they were past a separable distance. That on the right hand was so narrow, that [Page 158] comparison can hardly be made, and for being but litle frequented was so full of brambles, thornes, stones, and ruggednesse, that it was a mighty toile to enter or goe upon it: yet were there some signes of divers persons that had passed, though with infinite dis­commodity; for they were faine to leave both their money and their flesh behinde them. And of some passing, but their faces were wanne and meager, and they wal­ked without ever looking backe: to say that one might ride upon it, is a Fable, for having asked that question, a Traveller told me, that Saint Paul was faine to alight; and indeed I saw not any tracke or footing of Beasts, rut of Coach or Cart-wheele, nor print of Litter or Sedan, nor was it ever remembred that there had been any.

[Page 159] At which wondering, I appli­ed my selfe to a poore man, that rested to take breath, and asked if there were no Innes nor places of retreat to lodge in. No, you must alwayes goe, (said he) there is no staying, neither Inne nor Ta­verne; for this is the way of ver­tue, and but few passe through it. Know you not that in the race of life, to be borne is to set forth, to live to pilgrim it; that the Inne is the world, and in going out of it there are not many steppes, to enter either into paine or glory. Saying this he went on, God be with you, (said hee) hee that goes in the path of Vertue, looses time when hee staies; and besides there is danger in answe­ring those, that informe them­selves onely through conceited­nesse, and not to be instructed.

[Page 160] He proceeded, stumbling often against the stones, and breathing at every step, and the teares which distilled from his eyes (in mine apprehension) were able to have softened Flints, to be more plia­ble to his feet. Upon what spleen was this way made (said I)? It is very rude and laborious, and to make it more distastfull, the par­ties that goe in it are untractable and uncivill. This agrees not with mine humour; therefore I left it, and turning on the left hand got into the other; where I saw much Company, many Gal­lants, and many Coaches full of humane Beauties, whose eyes see­med to contend with the Sunne; some singing, others laughing, and others eating, so that I tooke it to be some great Festivall. And then remembring this sentence, [Page 161] Tell mee with whom thou conver­sest, and I will tell thee what thou art? that I might not be reproved for frequenting bad Company. I endeavoured to follow this that seemed to be so good; and hard­ly had set forward, but like to him that glides upon ice, I found my selfe in the midst of the rout, amongst Ladies, Masques, Co­medies, Playes, Banquets, very consonant to mine inclination.

This was not like the other tracke, where for want of Tai­lours, people went naked: there were to spare here as well as of Merchants, Skinners, Millaners, Upholsters, and all Trades be­sides, that serve to advance hu­mane pride, as Embroiderers, Perfumers, Sadlers, Shoomakers, Sempsters, Periwig-makers, Ha­berdashers, &c. And for Inne­keepers [Page 162] and [...]Vintners there wan­ted not abundance: with whom I had not long beene, when I per­ceived some of both wayes to change, and shift from one to the other, by very strait by-pathes: at whom wee all jeasted, but chiefely at those that went from us, calling them Dissemblers, pre­cise, wretched, and the refuse of the world; at which some of them stopped their eares and pas­sed by, some staid to heare us, others were deafened with our cries, and others flattered with our perswasions revived.

I saw also another middle way, where many went, afarre off see­ming to bee vertuous, but nearer hand were of our side. One told me they were Church-hypo­crites, and were but onely vailed and disguised to us, for they had [Page 163] no Maskes, nor false Visards for the Eyes eternall. They went alone, and were held to bee lesse subtle than Moores, and more brute than lawlesse Barbarians: because that they are contented to enjoy the happines of the present life, not knowing any other: but these that can tell what tem­porall and eternall life is, are so accursed, that they neither free­ly enjoy the present, nor hope for that to come. So that the say­ing is to good purpose, that They gaine Hell with a great deale of de­sert, that is, with much paines taking. Here the Rich followed riches, and the obstinate went a­part, for they would not bee go­verned by the more advised, but ranne with all their might, and got alwayes to be first. Magistrates drew after them all litigious Ne­gociators. [Page 164] Passion and Covetous­nes allured bad Judges. And Kings trained whole Common-wealths; neither wanted there Ecclesiasti­call men of all sorts, and whole Regiments of Souldiers, who had beene truly glorious if they had set forth the Name of God in fighting, as they had done in swearing. Some generous Spirits of the number of those who were on the right hand, seeing these wretches carrying yet pas­ports, and petitions for reward of their service, cried unto them moved with charity▪ and as if they had gone to some battle, To mee Souldiers, to me. What mean you? Is it an action of valour to for­sake this way, for feare of the dangers that are in it? Come on boldly, for wee are assured that those that fight lawfully, shall [Page 165] be crowned: let not vaine hopes of reward entice you: a worthy man ought to seeke for nought but vertue, and shee is the reward of her selfe, if you rely upon her: turne therefore and take part with us, and you shall bee happy. The Souldiers heard very attentively all these perswasions, and ashamed of reproofe and co­wardise forsooke their Station, and hanging downe their heads cast themselves into a Taverne.

After this I saw a great Lady, without either Coach or Litter, on foot and alone, and sought out a Scrivener to record it, being no ordinary accident, but finding none, I verily beleeved that I was not mistaken; yet calling to minde that I had heard that the way to Paradise was full of cros­ses, austerity and repentance, and [Page 166] considering that I saw not any about mee, but such as discoursed of wantonnesse and delight, I beganne to question and mis­doubt; but I was drawne from this incertainty, by a multitude of married men, who led their wives by their hands, that people might take notice of their affecti­on; nevertheles some of them were their husbands fast, since he dicted himselfe that shee might feed on dainties; and others his naked­nesse, since hee grudged his owne apparell to maintaine her in her Coach, and to buy toyes, gownes, and superfluous trifles for her: by which I learnt, that a man ill married, may boast that hee pos­sesses in the person of his wife, all necessary qualities to bee put in the list of Martyrs: and seeing their troublesome life, confirmed [Page 167] my first faith, that I was in the good way: but that opinion had no long durance, because I heard a voyce behinde me crying, Make way there for Apparatours; O God! said I, Are there Appari­tours here? Without doubt wee are going to Hell; and it was true, for at the same instant wee were got in by a little Doore made like a Mousetrap, easie to en­ter, but impossible to get out.

I was greatly astonished, in that in all the way no man remem­bred whither hee was going, and yet when wee were entred, every one agast beganne to looke upon his Companion, saying, it is in­fallible, we are in Hell. At which mine heart beganne to quiver, and with teares in mine eyes, I beganne to bewaile those I had left behinde mee in the World, [Page 168] as my Kindred, Friends, and ac­quaintance: but turning my face towards the way by which wee came, I saw most of them com­ming, whose arrivall did a little comfort mee, beleeving that they would bee some consolation in so sad an abode, if perhaps I should stay there long.

Notwithstanding I pursued my journey, and noted the Gate to bee guarded by seaven Divels, who kept account of all that en­tered. They asked my name and quality, and knowing my de­signe, let mee passe; but deman­ding of the throng behinde mee the same question, and being in­formed Tailours, one of the Di­vels answered, What a strange thing is this? I thinke that all the Tailours in the World be­leeve, that Hell is made for none [Page 169] but them, they come in such clu­sters. How many are there, said another Divell? There are an hundred, said the former: De­ceive not your selfe, said his Com­panion, It is impossible if they be Tailours there should bee so few, for the least band that comes day­ly of them, is not lesse than a thousand or twelve hundred, and we have already so many, that we know not where to pile them, neither know I whether we ought to receive them or no: the poore Smell-feasts were much frighted at these words, beleeving they would thrust them out; but at last they found favour and got in. I may well say (thought I then) that these people are very wicked, since the refusall of entrance into Hell is so rigorous a threatning to them. Hereupon behold a Di­vell [Page 170] of the Blacke Guard, who stackt them up in a place of stow­age, they being by reason of their dry seeding accounted the wood of Hell.

From the Gate going through a darke entry, one called mee by my name; at which horrour strucke I turned, and perceived it to bee a man, yet very hardly be­cause of the darknesse which was very thicke, and the flames that environed him. Ah, Sir! said he, Doe you not know me? I am such an one, a Bookeseller; Is it possi­ble, said I? Yes, answered hee, 'tis I; Who would ever have thought it? Hee beleeved that I would have pitied him; but when I had seene his face, I beganne to admire the righteous judgement of God in his just punishment, for his Shop was a very Store­house [Page 171] of Sedition; and it was he that sold and vented all those wicked, scandalous, and schis­maticall Pamphlets, against Church and State Government, which at this day runne up and downe under the hands of male­volent, disaffected persons: and somewhat neare him, I also espied another, whose Shop had beene no other than a Stewes of licen­tionsnesse, and a Magazine of he­resies, fraught with nothing more than obscene, scurrilous, prophane, railing, & popish Pamphlets, ten­ding to the subversion of all good maners, & to the encrease of super­stitious vanities. After that I had a while beheld them, I made shew of administring redres unto them, but they perceiving that I coun­terfeited, said, What would you? tis the cursednes of our condition, [Page 172] that wee are not condemned for our owne workes onely, as other men are, but endure and suffer for the workes of others; yet herein we receive some solace, in that we are not alone, but have Printers our coequals, who for their owne lucre, have been as forward as our selves in these things; and for ought wee see, suffer more ex­treamly than our selves, and that for nothing more than for their unjust and unconscionable dea­lings towards us, in often prin­ting such great numbers of over­plus bookes to their owne abun­dant benefit, and our great losse and detriment. More they would have said, but that a Divell with the smoake of his loose paper, stopped their breath; to avoid which fume I went on, saying in my selfe, Alas! If there are men [Page 173] condemned for selling and prin­ting the evill workes of others, what shall become of the Wri­ters, and those that practice them?

I passed on, and went into a Cave, where I saw many burning in immortall Fire. One of them said I, I never oversold, I ne­ver sold but that which was just, why am I thus afflicted? When I heard him say he had sold that which was just, I thought it had beene Iudas, and went nea­rer to see if hee were red haird, as wee commonly imagine: but I found it to be a Mercer, dead not long before. How, World-thrive (said I) are you here? he scorned to answer, because I gave him no better Title: but one of their Torturers (to augment their paine) These Drapers, Mercers, [Page 174] Goldsmiths, and Silkemen (said hee) would alwayes shape their false lights and waights accor­ding to their fancy, and make their measures of what length and shortnesse they pleased, and now they finde the gaine on't. But if the World would be wise, they would quickly banquerupt all these kinde of men; for then they would understand, that Stuffes of Gold and Silver, and Silke that Plate, Diamonds, and Pearle, that Lace, Silke, and Cloath, and all other things up­on which they set unmercifull rates, are things rather superflu­ous than necessary, and that these are they that feed all your disor­dinate and foolish expences, to which they allure and flatter you with a Lover called Credit, by meanes whereof they invisibly ruine you.

[Page 175] The Divell would have spoke more if I had not left him, to see from whence proceeded those peales of laughter, which I heard. They were Spirits deriding one, who would not submit because he was a Gentleman, shewing his Pedigree taken from the Heralds Office; but a Divell told him, Gentleman (said he) let your de­scent bee what it will, you have not done in your life time any other, than the works of an infa­mous man, in swearing, blasphe­ming, and haunting of Brothell-houses, and Tavernes; in which respect, your Armes are discar­ded by the Court of Hell. Hee that is vertuous, is the truly No­ble: yet though a man were an upstart, (as you are) if his acti­ons were worthy imitation, wee dare no more touch him than a [Page 176] thing sacred. Your billetting would not have been made here, if you had bin better than others: but since you esteeme your selfe so noble, you shall be burnt that we may preserve your ashes: this said, he cast him into a furnace.

Taking the left hand, I saw a number of old men, tearing their flesh, and lamenting bitterly, and inquiring what they were? This is the Inclosure, said one, of those Fathers, who damne themselves that their Posterity may bee rich, and who otherwise are called the ill-advised. Miserable that I am! (said one of them) I never had in all my life time so much as one minutes rest, I did not eate, slept not, and went almost naked, tor­menting both my body and minde to gather substance, that I might richly marry my Chil­dren, [Page 177] and with great summes pur­chase them Offices and honours: which done I died without being sicke, that I might diminish no­thing of those golden heapes, I had gathered together; and yet the breath was scarce out of my body, but they quite forgot mee; no teares, no monrning, and as if they had had certaine intelli­gence of my damnation, they neither charitably wish me a joy­full resurrection, nor accomplish that which I commanded them; nay more, to aggravate my tor­ments, God suffers that I see them from hence consume and spend in dissolutenesse, those goods for which I have so impoverished the World. Tis no time now to com­plaine, said a Divell, Have you not heard being on Earth this Proverbe, Happy is the Childs [Page 178] whose Father goes to the Divell? At this the poore men multiplied their cries, which object moved me to so great compassion, that I could no more behold them.

But a little farther espying an obscure Dungeon, in which was heard a great jangling and clatte­ring of chaines; I asked what place that was? and was answe­red, it was the bounds of O that I had! I understand you not, said I, what are they? These are (said one) the Ideots of the World, who gave themselves over to vice, to their insensible damnati­on▪ and now remembring what they should have done, and did not; to defend themselves from the paines they suffer, they continually cry, O that I had confessed my sinnes to the Lord! O that I had repented! O that I [Page 179] had gone to Church! O that I had served God! O that I had re­leeved the poore! O that I had refrained my tongue, and many other exclamations like unto these.

After these late Repentants, I met others farre worse, who were in a baseCourt full of much nasti­nesse; and wondered to heare the title that belonged to them, which was as a Divell told mee, God is mercifull, and will forgive. How can that bee, said I, that mercy should condemne, since that con­demnation is an action of Ju­stice? You talke like a Divell. And you said the Divell, like a Foole, since you know not that halfe of those that are here are adjudged by Gods mercy. But, to make you understand the Rid­dle▪ Consider how many Sinners [Page 180] there are, who when they are ad­monished of their evill doings, leave not for all that to continue and increase them more and more, in answering to their Reprovers, God is mercifull, hee regards not so small a thing, his mercy is so great: and thus whilest they hope in God, persevering in their wicked wayes, wee never distrust them. After your reckoning, (said I) none may rely on the Mercy of God. You are dull, said hee, you must trust in it, 'tis that that helpes forward good desires, and rewards good actions, but it is denied to those that are obstinate in their wicked wayes, for it is to play with Grace, to beleeve that it serves to cover guilt, and to thinke that a man may receive it just when hee hath need of it without ever endeavoring to get [Page 181] it. Gods mercy is infinite for his Saints and repentant Sinners, who struggle to become worthy; and those that have the greatest share, are such as are most fearfull; but hee that knowes how great it is, makes himselfe unworthy the effects, when he turnes it into the liberty of evill doing, and not into spirituall profit.

Can it be (said I overwhelmed with marvell) that so good a les­son should proceed from the mouth of so mischievous a Do­ctour? Which spoken▪ the Divell shewed mee a flaming partition, wherein (as one of the Tortured told me) were those that were af­flicted with suddaine deaths. You lye, (in reverence bee it spoken to the Gentleman that heares mee) said the Fiend, no man dies sud­dainly. Death uses no surprize. [Page 182] There wants never warning. How is it that you complaine of dy­ing suddenly, when since your very birth, since you beganne the course of your life, Death was alwayes with you? What is more ordinarily seene in the World than dying and buriall? What is spoken of more in the Pulpit? or read of more in good Bookes, than the frailty of life, and cer­tainty of Death? First of all the body, growes it not every day nearer and nearer to its Tombe? Cloathes, weare they not? Hou­ses, decay they not? Your owne Diseases, and those of others, knocke they not at all houres at the Gates of your Soules, remem­bring them that they must dis­lodge? Sleepe, represents it not to the life the death of living man? and life, is it not main­tain'd [Page 183] by the death of beasts? And for all this, you are so im­pudent, as to say that you dyed suddenly. No, no, change lan­guage, say hereafter that you are unbeleevers, dead, without ever thinking that you should dye; and learne besides, that Death takes as soone the youngest strip­ling, as the agedst decrepite; and according to what they have done, be it good or ill, she proves either a Mother or a Stepdame.

He shewed me also a vast Caul­dron, savouring of many oily sents, wherein were preserved Apothecaries, Comfit-makers, Chirurgions, Distillers, Barbers, and Mountebankes, with many more, for feare of rottennesse, saying, these are the true Alchi­mists, and not Geber, Ruspicella, with the rest; because they one­ly [Page 184] writ of what metals Gold might bee made, but made it not; or if they did, none ever since could penetrate into the depth of their secrets. But these, out of puddle water, stickes, Flies, dung, Vipers, Toads, simples, sugar and excrements, can make Gold, of better substance than all those could, that ever medled in the art, because that theirs is ready coined for use. In which respect wee are carefull to preserve them, least our treasure should decrease.

Hereupon another Divell made signes that I should come unto him without noise; which ha­ving done, hee set mee against an open casement, saying, looke in there, and see the ordinary exer­cise of fowle Women. I did as I was commanded, and beheld a very great number, some whereof [Page 185] were putting blacke patches on their faces; others pluckt up the haire on their eyebrowes, and others that▪ had none made use of blacke Lead, some put on fore­tops of counterfeit haire, some placed Ivory teeth in their gummes, in stead of those of Ebo­ny which were fallen out. This eate Ambergreece Comfits to pu­rifie her breath, and those held boxes of painting, with which they daubed their faces, and by this meanes became infinitely shi­ning, without being either Starres or Sunnes. Well, said the Divell, would you have beleeved that Women had been so inventive and ingenious to perdition? I knew not what to answer, but turned away, and saw a man sitting on a Chaire all alone, without either fire, ice, Divell, or racke about [Page 186] him; who neverthelesse cried out with the fearfullest cries that ever I yet heard; his heart t [...]ickled drop by drop from his eyes, and he tore his bre [...]st, and gnawed his armes, in so furious a manner, that I thought he had been mad; O Lord! said I, with what de­spaire is this poore man transpor­ted? no body to my thinking doth him any harme; Friend, my Friend, What Fury bewit­ches you? For what doe you complaine being here alone, free from all manner of Torture. Alas! said hee, with a terrible voice, I feele in my selfe all the pangs of Hell together. You see not the Hangmen that are linkt to my Soule; you see them not (said hee, reiterating his cry, and turning about as distracted) but hee sees them, whose severe and [Page 187] implacable Justice can measure offences, with torments without measure. O Memory! thou art to mee a cruell Divell! memory of the good I might have done, me­mory of those wholesome coun­sels I have despised, and the evils I have committed, Ah! that thou dost afflict me! And to heape up my misfortunes, when thou lea­vest me, my Reason beginnes her course, and the imagination of that glory I might have had, and that others possesse, without ha­ving bought it so deare, as I have done the paines I suffer! O under­standing! What cruelty dost tho [...] use towards mee, in setting before me Heaven and Paradise, so full of beauty, joy, content, and delight, and yet drownest mee more and more in despaire! Some release I pray thee. And [Page 188] thou my Will, Is it possible that thou resusest to make a truce for one poore moment? You that are a Pilgrim of the other World, who aske what torments mee? Know they are the three powers of my Soule, converted into invi­sible flames, and into three Exe­cutioners, who without hand or Element, burne and teare my En­trals. And if by chance they cease to wracke mee, the Worme of Conscience gnawes my Soule, as the perpetuall food of insatia­ble hunger. Ending this word, he cast forth a deepe groane, and tur­ning from me; Mortail, said he, Consider that those of the World, who were illuminated with the Gospell, and endowed with celestiall Graces, and have not employed them to their owne Salvation, carry their Hell [Page 189] in themselves, and are tormented with the like misery as I am. This said, hee beganne his first worke: and I departed very pen­sive, apprehending in my selfe, that that man must needs have heavy crimes upon his Consci­ence. But the Divell seeing mee sad, whispered in mine eare that it was an Atheist, who neither beleeved in God nor the Divell. O that an understanding man is really accursed (replied I) when he cannot tell how to make pro­fit of that Talent, which God hath given him!

Not farre off, I saw abundance of People, drawing a fiery Che­riot through a burning Lake, with rings thrust through their tongues, to which the harnesse was fastened; and a Divell going before them with this Proclama­tion, [Page 190] This is the punishment of swearers, slanderers, and lyers. In the Waggon were easie beleevers; and in a roome whose prospect looked upon them were beauti­full Women, tormented in quali­ty of Witches; at which mine heart melted, but a Divell came to comfort mee, saying, Doe you not remember the evill they have done you? Have you not often found by experience, that they use a certaine kinde of Magicke that destroyes; therefore their paine is agreeable to it.

I followed my devillish Con­ductour, and saw Judas ▪ accom­panied with false Stewards. T [...] ­tours, and such O [...]ficers as him­selfe, some whereof had no [...] ­heads, and others no face. [...] seemed to bee well pleased with them, who related the exploits [Page 191] they had done in his imitation. Going nearer, I saw that their torment was like that of Titius, on whose entrals a Vultur still gnawed, for their Consciences were their greatest Tormentours. I could not suppresse the desire I had to speake, perjured, disloyall, traitour, villaine above all exam­ple (said I) how durst thou bee so vile, as to sell thy Master, thy Lord, and thy God? Why, an­swered Judas, doe you complaine of that? You should rather com­mend than condemne mee, since you receive so great a benefit thereby. Tis for mee to bewaile that am excluded from the pos­session of so great a good, as I have put into your hands. But thinke not that I am Iudas alone, Know that since the Lords Death there have beene and are worse [Page 162] than I, more wicked, and more unthankfull, witnesse Heretickes, and Schismatickes. For if I did once sell my Master, I was in part cause of the Redemption of Man­kinde; but they in selling him, you, and themselves, have lost all the World. And others, who are not content to sell him onely, but they scourge, and crucifie him, more ignominiously than the Jewes, in their wicked lives. And though I know that repentance now availes mee not, yet I would have you on earth to looke into yourselves before you censure me; since I was the first Steward con­demned for sale, and not for bar­gaine, as is the use and practice of all my fellowes.

I would heare no more, but making way, saw a great bulke of building which seemed like some [Page 193] inchanted Castle; in which were many Venereous Divels tossing Whores and Thieves from scal­ding oyle into frozen ice, to heate and coole their appetite. One of the Females stepping to the thre­shold, where I and my Guide stood, Gentlemen (said shee) I pray you tell us whether this bee justice to condemne People both for giving and taking? A Thiefe is condemned because hee takes from another, and an Whore be­cause shee gives. For my part, I maintaine that there is no inju­stice in us; for if it be justice for every one to give of his owne, and that we doe no other, where­fore are we damned? Wee found her question too difficult to bee derided, and therefore sent her to Lawyers and Counsellours, who were not farre from her: [Page 194] but remembring that I had heard her speake of Thieves, I asked where Seriveners were, because as I came, I overtook none by the way: I beleeve, said my Divell, that you met not any. Why? Are they then allsaved? No, said he, but they come neither on foot nor horsebacke, but flying on wings a million in a flocke; in respect of which lightnesse, they are tormented in an upper Cham­ber.

I past by, and not farre from thence went unto a place, in which many Soules were shut up, some whereof were very silent, and others clamorous. One told me it was the empalement of Lo­vers, at which I was something grieved, seeing that Death doth not kill the sighes with the body. Some talked of their passions, [Page 195] and endured a torment of loving distrust, and others attributed their losse to their desires and imagina­tions, wherof the force of the one, and, the colours of the other, did present pictures to bee a thousand times fairer than persons and sub­stances. The most part-of them were disquieted and molested with a torture called I thought. (as a Divell [...]old me) and asking what that was? Hee smiling re­plied, 'tis a torment agreeable to their offence▪ for when Lovers see themselves deceived in their hopes, either in the pursuit or possession of their Mistresses, they say alwayes, I thought that shee did love mee, I thought shee would have beene the raising of my fortune, I thought that shee would have been faithfull to me; so that the cause of their [...] [Page 170] proceeds not from any other thing but I thought.

Next to Lovers were Poets, who endured the same punish­ment, because their passions were not much different. These men are of very jeasting humours, (said the Divell) for whilest that others mourne and bewaile their sins, they sing theirs, and publish them every where. For if they have but once laine with a Cloris, Phillis, Silviae, or Melita, by the meanes of one song they will walke her through a kingdome dockt like a Chimisticall God­desse. They will give her golden haire, a Chrystall forehead, eyes of Emralds or Diamonds, teeth of Pearle, lippes of Purple and Rubies, with words of Muske and Amber: and yet for all these riches of which they are so pro­digall, [Page 175] they cannot get credit for a meane sute among Brokers, a course shirt among Sempsters, nor a crackt beaver at the second hand.

Fearing too long a stay, I went on to see the devout Impertinents, who make prayers and requests to God full of absurd extrava­gancies. O that they gave testi­mony of much griefe! Their tongues were chained in everla­sting silence, and their bodies made crooked and bending to the Earth, condemned to heare for ever the fearfull cries of a whea­zing Divell, who thus reproved them. You brazen-fac't abusers of Prayer, and the long suffe­rance of GOD, presumptuous, who dare treat with the Divine Majesty, with lesse respect than you would doe with a Merchant [Page 198] with whom you traffique: how many times have you made these execrable petitions? Lord, take my Father out of this World, that I may enjoy his goods. Let my Brother die within few dayes that I may succeed him in digni­ty. Grant that I may finde a Mine of Gold at my feet. That I may bee fortunate in play. That my Sonne and Daughter may be richly married. That the King may cast his favour upon me. And adde unto these rash demands; Doe this Lord, and I promise to give money towards the marriage of Orphants, to build Almes­houses, and relieve Hospitals. What blindnesse! to promise gifts to him, from whom you desire riches, and to whom all things be­long? What arrogancy! to require of God in quality of favors those [Page 199] things, which he gives ordinari­ly for punishments and chastise­ments; and although you doe obtaine, yet you never performe your promises. How many prote­stations have you made to God, his members, and his service, when you were in the abysse of raging and tempestuous necessity, on land, at sea, in sicknesse, in de­spaire, of which you have held no reckoning when you have ob­tained your wishes. But you were never other than Hypocrites and deceivers. Your oathes and vowes were never made through devoti­on, but necessity. Did you ever aske of God your Soules rest? the increase of Grace, his favours, and inspirations? No verily, and I beleeve you were altogether ig­norant of the worth of these spi­rituall riches, thinking too much [Page 174] on temporall; and knew not that the most pleasing sacrifices and oblations to GOD, were pu­rity of Conscience, humility of spirit, and servent love and chari­ty. Hee takes delight that men should be mindefull of him, that he may multiply his benefits, but they never remember him, but when they feele affliction, and that is the reason God sends them calamities, to maintaine their zeale. Unjust demanders! Consi­der now how little those things you have desired, and God given, have staid with you: and how un­thankfull they have bin, (though you have ever cherisht them) since they have not accompani­ed you to your last end. Consider that your Children and Kindred doe so little remember what goods you have left them, that [Page 171] they employ not one penny to pious uses, yet they are excusable, in that seeing that you did none in your life time, they know you cannot take pleasure in them though performed after your death: and besides that you are in a place which they trust never to deserve. Some of these misera­ble men would have answered, but the muzzles that lockt up their speech would not permit them.

Thence I went into a great Hall, smelling abundantly of Sulphur; wherein were Alchi­mists, whom Divels examined with much trouble, for they could not understand their gib­bridge: their talke was altoge­ther of metallicke Substances, which they named after the seven Planets, as Gold the Sunne, Sil­ver [Page 202] the Moone, Brasse Iupiter, Tinne Venus, &c. They were all charged with furnaces, crusibles, coales, bellowes, argall, minerals, dungs, mans bloud, and alem­bicke powders; some calcined, others washt [...]here they purified, there separated, made firme that which was volatile, rarified and converted into fume, that which was firme: in another place they transmuted formes, and fixed Mercury; then ha­ving resolved the viscous matter, exiled the subtle part, and fire corruptible, when they came to the coppell all exhaled in vapour: some disputed whether the fire was to be made of Beech or Maple? whether or no the fire of Raimun­dus Lullius was to bee understood of lime, or of the effective light of heat, and not the effective heat of [Page 203] fire? Others with Hermes en­signe, gave the principle to the great worke. Others looked up­on the blacke become white, ho­ping to see it red. And whilest that the proportion of nature with nature, did contend and aide it selfe; whilest that the rest of their blinde Oracles did waite the reduction of the first matter; in lieu of converting dung into haire, and humane bloud, ingots, and wedges of Gold; they tur­ned fine Gold into fine ordure, became fooles, beggars, and false Coiners: how often did I heare them say, The Dead Father is ri­sen, kill him once more! How ma­ny did I see busied to explain these words, so often repeated by al Chi­mist authours, God be praised, who suffers that out of the vilest thing in the world, so excellent and rich [Page 178] a matter should bee made! Some said they had found the sense, and that if the Philosophers Stone was to be made of the vilest thing in the World, it was to bee made of publike Strumpets, be­cause there is nothing so infa­mous in Nature, as to prostitute ones body to all commers; upon this opinion they went to boile and distill them; but a Divell came, saying, Gentlemen Philo­sophers, will you know assured­ly, what is the vilest thing in the World? It is Alchimists, there­fore desiring to make the Philo­sophers Stone, following the method wee heard you talke on; wee will put you into the fire to make an experimentall proofe. As hee said, so twas done, and the poore mad Chimists burned al­most with their owne wils, so [Page 183] great a desire they had to see the Elixir:

Not farre off from these, I saw a great society of Astrologers, and superstitious men. One of them who was a Fortune-teller, looked upon the hands of all the condemned, saying, it is very easie to know by the Mount of Saturne, that you were to bee damned; and as easily to bee distinguished by this girdle of Venus, that you are all lechers. Another who was encompast with Spheres, con­templating the Starres, rising up cried out, O God! What misfor­tune▪ If my Mother had but been delivered of mee one halfe houre sooner, I had beene saved; for at that instant Saturne changed aspect, and Mars lodged in the house of life. Another said to the Divels that tormented him, that [Page 206] they were best to bee assured that he was dead, for his part he would not beleeve it, because he had Iu­piter for ascendant, and Venus in the house of life, not having any evill aspect; which signified that hee should live, an hundred and one yeares, two moneths, sixe dayes, foure houres, and three minutes. And another reduced his Science into certaine heads, to divine of things to come, and know things past; yet could not guesse at the time that was now present, nor of his owne and his Companies damnation. Besides these there were many Magicians, Negromancers, Sorceresses, and Inchanters in the same station; and many places of expectation void, which were said to be kept for certaine great men, who added faith to these devillish. Disciples.

[Page 207] At last I beganne to bee very weary, and looked about to see if I could finde any place to get out; which striving to doe, I was (before I was aware) in a long Gallery, in which was Lucifer Prince of Hell, environed with his whole Court composed of he and she Divels; for there are Fe­males as well as Males: but fea­ring to faile in respect and civili­ty, his horrible countenance also frighting mee, I staid at the entry thereof; when the Usher of the Chamber came and told me, that being a Stranger, his Prince had commanded him to bring me in, and shew mee all the rarities. I thanked him for the honour his Master did me and for the paines hee tooke himselfe; and comple­menting, beganne to consider how the place was better ador­ned, [Page 208] than those are of our greatest Lords and Potentates, though the most curious in the World: for they have nought but dead Statues, or painted pictures, dumbe, insensible, immoveable; but here all the persons were ani­mated with breathing and life: and which was most rare, were of no base condition. None but Emperours and Kings, some Ot­toman, some Roman, some Chri­stian, besides many Queenes, Princes, and Princesses, who would binde mee to too long a description in nomination. But for as much as I was not able any longer to endure the aire of this hot Climate, I intreated the Fiend to shew mee which way I might get out. Yes, said he, fol­low me. And then he shewed mee a passage, through which I got [Page 187] into the same Vale I mentioned at the beginning of this wonder­full discourse; trembling and re­joycing both together, and me­ditating on the divers punish­ments many were tormented with, who perhaps had lesse de­serv'd them than I my selfe; which made me undertake a con­stant purpose, to live for the time to come in such sort, that I may avoid feeling the reality and truth of those torments, which I beheld now onely in vision. I in­treat thee Reader to make thy profit hereby, by mine imitation, that thou maist need no further experiment.

FINIS.

Imprimatur,

SAM. BAKER.

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.