[Page] The Housholders Philosophie. VVherein is perfectly and profitably described, the true Oeconomia and forme of Housekeeping. With a Table added thereunto of all the notable thinges therein contained. First written in Italian by that excellent Orator and Poet Signior Torquato Tasso, and now translated by T. K. Whereunto is anexed a dairie Booke for all good huswiues.

AT LONDON Printed by J. C. for Thomas Hacket, and are to be sold at his shop in Lomberd-streete, vnder the signe of the Popes head. M. D. LXXXVIII.

❧ To the worshipfull and vertuous Gentleman Maister Thomas Reade Esquier, health and all happines.

WOrth more then this digested thus in haste,
Yet truely set according to the sence,
Plaine and vnpollished for making waste,
Of that which Tassos pen so highly gracde,
This worke I dedicat to your defence.
Let others carpe, tis your discretion
That must relieue myne imperfection.
Your worships most affectionate T. K.
A Catalogue or Index …

A Catalogue or In­dex of those thinges woorth the me­mory contained in this Booke.

A
  • AChilles is not to bee imitated of a noble man. Folio. 13
  • Ayde amongst Seruaunts for the helpe and ease of one another necessarie. 17
  • Action distinguished. eodem
  • Arte of weauing honourable. fol. 21
  • Artificers defined. fol. 17
  • Autumn more copious offruites then the springtime. fol. 6
  • Autumn wherfore iudged the best of other seasons. 7
  • Age in marriage to be lookt vnto. 10
  • Apparrell for Women. 11
  • Arteficiall riches what. fol. 19
B
  • Beautie more regarded in a Woman then a Man. fol. 11
  • Beauty forced by painting insupportable in a woman. cod.
  • Beefe at feasts, more vsed for fashion then foode. fol. 5
  • Beefe sought for and desired by Vlysses Seruaunts in theyr [Page] trauayle. eodem
  • Bo [...]e wedded to the soule. folio. 9
C
  • Catullus why he called Wine bytter. fol. 6
  • Collour of Wine and what [...] ought to be. fol. 5
  • Circes giuen to weauing. 7
  • Comodities of the spring and of Autumn. 6
  • Complexion of seruaunts, and what it should be. 16
  • Conditions in Seruaunts 17
  • Consideration in condicions of possessions. 19
  • Clerkes or Secretaries who and what they ought to be. 17
  • Coniunction of man and wife like that of the body and the soule. 9
  • Conseruation of things howe it shoulde bee vsed by a good huswife. 18. 20
  • Customs in bringing vp of Children. 13
  • Care of housekeeping of diuers sortes, and whether they va­rie in forme onely or in gettings. 20
  • Care of Children how it is to bee deuided twixt Father and the Mother. 12
  • Care of the Huswife concerning thinges that are brought into the house. 20
  • Cares necessary for a housekeeper desirous to preserue his wealth. 18
  • Care of houshold is deuided into two parts. 8
  • Care of housekeeping as great to the Fathers and Maisters thereof as is the care of a Kingdome to a King. eodem
  • Clenlines in housekeeping. 16
  • Care of seruaunts in their sicknes. 17
  • Chastisement toward seruaunts what. 13
  • Countrey prouision vnbought seruing for the Table. 3
  • Conserues necessary in houses. 20
  • C [...]ll warres begunne by Seruaunts. 15
D
  • [Page]Desire of ryches and howe farre it dooth concerne a house­keeper. Fol. 24
  • Difference betwixt Exchaunge and Vsury. 25
  • Difference of Seruaunt and soueraigne or Maister, founded first by Nature. fol. 14
  • Delights of the Spring and of Autumne. fol. 6
  • Deuision of lande Quadrupartite. 3
  • Difference betwixt the instruction of Seruauntes and of Beastes. fol. 15
  • Discomodities of Sommer and Winter. 6
  • Disobedience of Wiues whence it riseth. 10
  • Distinction of nobilitie betwixt man and wife how great. 9.
  • Difference in merchandize. eodem.
E
  • Earth vniuersall nurse of all thinges. Fol. 23
  • Education of Children as well appertaines to the Mother as the Father. fol. 12
  • Education of Children, and what it ought to be. 13
  • Exercise of Housekeepers for health. 10
  • Equallitie in marriage to be respected. Fol. 9.
  • Equallitie in marriage wherein it doth consist. eodem
  • Exercise a Husbandmans phisicke fol. 10
F
  • Families or housholdes of what sorte of Seruaunts to bee made. fol. 16
  • Factors and surueighors and ouerseers. eodem.
  • Feasts not forbidden to Women. 21
  • [Page] Fortune maketh many men seruile. 15
  • Fruites preserued in Vineger. 20
  • Fruites of the earth are naturall gaines. 19
  • Feare not commendable in a man. 10
  • Forme of getting what. 23.
G
  • Gaine in ware naturall 23
  • Gaine vnnaturall how it is distinguished 25
  • Gaine purchased with sweat or sweete. eodem
  • Gaine honestly made by the Mistresse of the house. 23
  • Grapes gathered out of season. fol. 5
  • Grapes growing in Greece, of what collour and what wine is made of them eodem
  • Grapes gathered in Autumn. 6
H
  • Homer why he called Wine sweete, and why bitter. fol. 6
  • Homer what properties he gaue to Wine. 5
  • Huswifry consisting much in spinning. 20
  • Hayre a great ornament of nature. 11
  • Hayre cut from Wemens heads and why. eodem
  • Honest recreation not to be with-held from Women. 12
  • Harts not bredde in Affrick. fol. 5
I
  • Idlenes and ease make some seruaunts euill. Fol. 16
  • Instruments of housholde to be kept cleene. eodem
  • Imitation of Nature. eodem
L
  • [Page]Loue figured without a bearde. Folio. 11
  • Louers wanton embracings different from those of married folke. eodem
  • Loue of Children. 12
  • Lynen and wollen weauing necessary in housekeeping. 20
M
  • Money why and how founde out and vsed. Fol. [...]9
  • Matrimonie maketh equall many differences. 10
  • Marriage at what yeeres to be solemnized 4
  • Meate wanting vpon suddaine entertainment of guests, how to be supplyed. 12
  • Mothers ought to giue their owne Children sucke. eodem
  • Mothers ought not to be too tender to their children. 13
N
  • Nature chaunged by Nurses Milke. Fol. 12
  • Nurses commonly ordinary persons. eodem
  • Naturall gayne how to be raysed. eodem
  • Naturall riches what. 10
O
  • Offices how and when to be distinguished. Fol. 16
  • Oxen placed by Hesiodus in steede of seruaunts. 15
  • Opinions of some concerning the soule. 9
  • Orders in housholde busines. 16
  • Orders of Publicans. 24
P
  • [Page]Practises of minde and body howe to be vsed. Fol. 13
  • People regard aparances. 14
  • Petrarchs opinion of the people. eodem
Q
  • Quallitie of substaunce what. 19
  • Quality of seruaunts what. eodem
R
  • Reuenewes. Fol. 18
  • Rents. eodem
  • Regard of householders. 19
  • Reason necessary in Seruaunts. eod.
  • Riches howe to be considered. 20
S
  • Seruaunts working. Fol. 17
  • Seruaunts care in maintayning of their working tooles. 16. 17
  • Salary or wages fit for Seruaunts. 14
  • Shamfastnes not improper to a maried man. 9
  • Scituation of landes. eodem
  • Seruaunts a defence to their Maister. 15
  • Seruaunts different from slaues. 14
  • Seruaunts what and who they be: 17
  • Seruaunts how to be vsed. eodem
T
  • [Page]Thales one of the seauen wise men of Greece, howe hee be­came rich. Fol. 19
  • Times of the yeere to bee considered of a housholder and good Husbands. eodem
V
  • Vertues proper to men what. 9
  • Vertues proper to Women. eodem
  • Vsury how pernicious a thing it is. 25
W
  • Wealth how to be vsed 18
  • Weauing how first found out. 20
  • Women how to be chosen in wedlock. 11
  • Women maried rather yong then olde. 10
FINIS.

❧ The Housholders Phi­losophie.

IT was then about that time of the yéere that the Grape-gatherers were went to presse their Wines, and that the Trees were séene (in some place) dispoi­led of their fruite, when I (in the habitte of an vnknowne Pilgrim) rode betwixt Nouara & Vercellis, where séeing the ayre were blacke, & enuironed on euery side with clowdes ready to raine: I began to set spurs to my Horse, but the whilst I heard a confused cry of dogs, and turning me about, I beheld a little Kidde surchargd, pursued, and anon euertaken by two swift Grey-hounds, in so much as it there died at my feete. The vnerpected pleasure of which game, stayed me til a youth of eighteene or twenty yéeres of age, tall of stature, of a good aspect, well proportioned, tough line wed, and of a strong constitution, beating and crying out vpon the doggs tooke the poore [...]dde fro forth their mouthes, and gaue it to a pesaunt attending on him, that laid it on his shoulders, and at a beck of the youth gat him swiftly on before. Wher­vpon the young man turning towards me said. Tell me sir of courtesie▪ whither is your iourney? I would to Vercellis (quoth I) this euening if the time woulde giue mee leaue. You might happily get thither (ꝙ he) were it not that the Riuer that runneth before the Cittie, and that deuideth the confines of Piemount from those of Millan, is so ouerflowen [Page] that you can hardlie passe it, so that I would aduise you, if it please you, to lodge with me this euening: for not far hence neere that Riuer, I haue a little Cottage, where you may repose your selfe with lesse disease then in any other place nigh thereabouts. Whilst he thus spake I stedfastly beheld him, and me thought I perceiued in his very countenaunce a kind of gentilitie and grace, so that (iudging him to be of no base or meane condicion) séeing him a foote, giuing my Horse to a hyreling that came with me, I dismounted. Thereupon (quoth he) you shall aduise your selfe yonder on the Ryuer­side, whether you were better to passe on or staie: and the­ther will I goe before, not to arrogat anie superioritie, but as your guide, because perhaps you are not well acquainted with the waie. Fortune (quoth I) doth fauour mee with too noble a conduct. God graunt in other things she shewe her selfe as prosperous. Héere I became silent, and I folowed him, but he regarded oft, and often ouerlooked, and looked on me as if he were desirous it séemd to vnderstande of whence I was: so that I preuented his desire, and in some sort to satis-fie him, said I was neuer till nowe in this Countrey, but heretofore going into Fraunce I past by Pyemount, how beit I repent me not that I came this waie, for the Coun­trey is very pleasant, and inhabited of people passing cour­teous. Héere perceiuing that I ministred occasion of speech, he could no longer hide what he desired, but sayd.

Tell me I pray you, what are you, what Countreyman, and what good fortune ledde you into these parts? I was borne (quoth I) in Naples, a famous Cittie of Italie, my mo­ther a Neapolitan, my father of Bergamo, a Cittye scituate in Lombardy, my name and surname I conceale, for they are so obscure, as if I should report them, yet you coulde not be the more enformed of my state. The wrath of Fortune and of mightie mē I shun, howbeit I am eftsoones shrowded vnder the the estate of Sauoy. Under a magnanimous, iust, and gratious Prince you soiourne then (quoth he.) But mo­destlie remembring that I desired to conceale some part of [Page 2] mine estate, he enquired no further of me. Wee had nowe walked little more then halfe a mile, but wee ariued on the side of the Ryuer, swifter then which, neuer ranne arrowe fro forth the strongest bow of Parthia: and it was swoln so high, as it farre surpast the wonted limmits, neither coulde it be contained in the compasse whereunto it was accusto­med. And it was tolde me by ye Countreymen commorants there, that the Passador woulde not put off from the other side, but yt (vpon what occasiō they knew not) he had refused to waft ouer some French Gentlemen, that would haue gy­uen more then ordinary for their passage. Whereupon, tur­ning to the youth that was my guide, I said. That necessity now bound me to accept his courtesie, which notwithstan­ding I had not yet determined to refuse: albeit I had ra­ther acknowledge this fauaur procéeding from your owne disposition then from Fortune. It pleaseth me notwithstan­ding that she hath wrought it in such sort as wee shall haue no néede to doubt of your abode.

Thus more and more he confirmed mine opinion, that he was neither of ignoble birth nor meane capacitie, wher­vpon content to be consorted with so well accomplished an Hoste: (ꝙ I) the sooner you shall please that I receiue the fauour to be lodged, the more shall I accept of it, and there­withall he ledde me to his house that was not farre situate from the Riuerside, and it was as high as on the outside we might easily perceiue it comprehended diuers roomes and stories one aboue another. Before the house there was a little Court enuironed with Trées, and there they ascen­ded by double staires which were without the Gate, eyther of them containing fiue and twentie large & moste commo­dious steps. On the top of the staires we entred into a faire Hall, foure square & of conuenient greatnes, for it had two porthals on the right, and two on the left side, and as manie in the vpper end. Directlie against the Gate whereby wee entred, was there another Gate, and thereby we descended by as manie other steps into a little Court, about the which [Page] were prettie lodgings for seruaunts, and houses for Corne, and thence we past into a Garden large enough, and filled with fruitfull Trees, verie orderlie and artificially disposed. The Hall was furnished with hangings and euery other ornament beséeming the lodging of a Gentleman. In the midst thereof was the Table couered, and the Cupboorde charged with curious plates of Candie, furnished with all sorts of daintie fruits. Faire and passing well placed (quoth I) is this goodlie house, and it can not be possest but of some noble Gentleman, who though amongst the woods and in a Countrey Towne, lets not yet to imitate the delica [...]y and neatenes of the Cittie, but are you the Lord thereof? Not I (quoth he) my Father is, whom God graunt a long life, nei­ther denie I him to be a Gentleman of the Cittie, or vnex­perienced in Courte or on the worldes conditions, albeit he hath spent the greater part of his time in the Countrey, ha­uing a Brother that hath long béene a Courtier in Rome, and that yet abideth there, highlie fauoured of the good Car­dinall Vercellis, whose valour and authoritie in these quar­ters highly are accoūted of. And in what part of Europe and of Italie, (quoth I) is that good Cardinall knowne and not accounted of.

Thus as we were reasoning, there mette vs another youth of lesse yéeres, but no lesse gentle spirit, that brought worde of his Fathers comming, who eftsoones was retur­ned from surueighing his possessions. And anon there came the Father on horsebacke attended with a footeman, and an other seruitor that rode before, who dismounted, immediatly came vp the staires. He was a man of midle age, yet neerer thréescore then fiftie: of countenance verie pleasant, myxed with comelie grauitie, and by the whitnes of his hayre and beard (that only made him séeme old) his dignity was much augmented. I framing my passage towardes the good man and maister of the house, saluted him with that reuerence which I thought fitting both his yeres and such as he should seeme. And hee turning to his elder Sonne with a pleasant [Page 3] countenaunce, asked him whence I was, for I haue neuer seene him hereabouts or els where (quoth he) to my remem­braunce. To whom his Sonne made aunswer thus. He co­meth from Nouara, and trauails towards Turyno, but ma­king néerer to his Father, he whispred to him in such sorte that hee woulde enquire no further of my state, but saide, whence soeuer he be, hee is welcome here a shore, for hee is happened on a place, where to our powre, honour and ser­uice alwaies hath béene vsed to strangers. I thanking him for his courtesie, praid that as I willingly receaued thys fa­uour of him, so in other things I might shew my selfe mind­ful and regardant.

These things thus discoursed, the seruaunts had pro­uided water for our hands, and (hauing washt) we sate, as it pleased the good old Gentleman, who desired to doo me ho­nor béeing a straunger. Forthwith was the Table furni­shed with fruits, as Mellons, Cytrons, and such like, which at the end of Supper were at a wincke of his reserued and set vp, & then he began thus. The good old man Coricius, the Gardener of whom I remember I haue reade in Virgill.

Nocte domum dapibus mensas onerabat inemptis.
Hyed home at night & fild his bord with delicats vnbought

And in imitation whereof Petrarch speaketh, reasoning of his Plowman.

Epoi la mensa ingombra,
Di pouere viuande,
Simili a quelle ghiande
Le quai fuggendo tutto'l mondo honora.

And then he decks his boord about
With meats of meane esteeme,
Like to those Iayes whose flight contents
The world, cause faire they seeme.

So that you néede not meruaile if I after their fashion, fill your Table with vnbought viands, which though they bee [Page] not such as you are vsed to taste elsewhere, remember you are in a Country Town, and lodged in the house of a poore Host. I hold it (quoth I) a happy thing to haue no néede to send for necessaries to the Cittie for the supply of good man­ners, I meane not of good meate, for thereof sir me seemes héere wants no store. It lightlie happeneth not (quoth hee) that I send to yt Cittie for any thing necessarie or fit for the life of a poore Gentlemā, for (God be praised) I haue aboun­daunce of euery thing ministred vnto me vpon myne owne ground, yt which I haue deuided into foure parts or formes, call them what you will. The first and greatest part I plow and sowe with wheate and all kind of graine. The seconde part I leaue for Trees and plants, which are also necessarie either for fire, the vse of Architecture, & other instruments of houshold, as also in those places that are sowne are manie rewes of Trees, whereupon the Uines after the manner of our petit Countries are laid and fastened. The third is Me­dowe ground whereon the Heards and little flocks I haue are wont to graze. The fourth I haue reserued for hearbes, flowers and rootes, where also are some store of hyues for Bées, because beyond this Orchard wherein you sée that I haue gryft so many fruitfull Plants, and which you sée is somewhat seperat frō my possessions, there is an other Gar­den full of all sorts of sallet hearbes and other rootes.

You haue well deuided your lands (quoth I) and it is well séene that you are studious of Varro not of Virgil one­ly. But these Mellons héere that are so swéet, are they also growing vpon your owne grounde? Yea (quoth hee) and if they please you, eate of them and tarry not for me. For if I haue eaten but a little, it hath not béene for sparing them, but because I déeme them scarce wholesome: for albeit they be sweet of sauour and pleasant to the fast: neuerthelesse, hanging alwaies on the earth and not discouered on al sides to the Sunne, it must needs be, that there they soke vp the superfluous humours of the earth, which most commonly (béeing vnpossible to be wel or equallie ripened by the ver­tue [Page 4] of the Sunne, which cannot enter into euery part) it hap peneth that there are few good Mellons to be found, but that many of them taste like Goords and Cowgo [...]ers, which al­so hang vpon the earth vnripened.

Here he became silent, & I to shew that I allowed of that he spake, said little: knowing that olde men, or they yt grow in yeeres, were euer more desirous of reasoning and talk, then any other thing, for we can not please them better, then to harken to their spéeches with attention. But he then al­most at a staie, said because his wife was wanting. Sir, my wife béeing withdrawne from your presence, happily lookes to be inuited, therefore if it please you I wil cause her to bée called. For albeit I knowe that modest strangers are more abasht with the company of women then of men, yet not onely the Towne but the custome of our Countrey, carieth a certaine priuiledge, whereof it wil be wel that you begin to aduise your selfe.

The Wife béeing called, came and sate her down at the vpper end of the Table, in that place that was purposelie left empty for her, and the good man of the house beganne a­gaine. Nowe haue you séene (ꝙ he) all my déerest thinges, for heauen hath not graunted me a maiden Child, for which I were to thanke thē much, were it not but that my wife la­menteth oft for want of one to beare her company, for my Sonnes are for the most part absent & imployed otherwise, wherefore I thought good to haue married myne eldest Sonne had he not much disliked and intreated to the contra­rie. I cannot (quoth I) in anie sort commend this custome of marrying yong mē so soone. For it standeth not with rea­son that they should first be getting Children, before them­selues were come vnto their groweth, wherunto me thinks your Sonne héere hath attained: besides, the fathers ought to excéede their children alwaies eyght and twenty or thirty yéeres at the least, for otherwise they are in ye vigor of their yeeres when the youth of their sonnes begin to florish, inso­much as their desires are yet vnaccomplished, which if by [Page] none other meanes, yet by example of their Children they might moderate, and oft it is the cause, that such regarde is scarcely had or vsed to them by their Children as is due to Parents, for many times they are companions & brothers in their conuersation, nay nowe & then (which is most abhe­minable) they are ryualls and competitors in loue, where if they exceeded more in yeres, their Fathers could not match them in theyr young desires, but (béeing decrepit) shoulde solely expect and approue that ayde and comfort at theyr hands, which is their due, and nature bindeth Children vn­to. And herein I remember that apt forme of spéech vsed by Lucretius. Natis munire senectam. For by nature Chyldren are the fortresse & defences of their Parents, neither coulde they be such, were they not of able and sufficient yéeres, whē their Parents are ariued and come vnto their age. Where­unto your selfe beeing eftsoones nigh, mee thinks you ought to hold your selfe no lesse satis-fied of the helpe you haue, thē of the good conditions of your Sonne, who though he cannot yet find in his hart to be married, shal happily conforme him selfe therunto ten or twelue yéeres hence, and time inough. Whilst I spake thus, I remembred that my argument was more acceptable to the Sonne then the father, and he accor­ding to my remembraunce, said. I hunted not all in vaine to day, for I haue not onely kild, but more then I looked for, I haue happened on an honest aduocat to pleade my cause: and thereupon he carued me of the daintiest morsels of the Kid, and laid it on my trenchour, whereof some was roste, some was backt after the manner of myneed meate. Wyth the Kidde was serued (in seuerall dyshes) some part of a wylde Boare, drest after our Countrey fashion with Larde, and in two other dyshes, two payre of Pygeons, the one roasted, the other boyled This wilde Boare, (quoth the good man) was taken by a Gentleman a friende and neighbor of ours, who often time participates the profit of his sports with my Son, the Pigeons, them I haue from my owne Douehouse, and with these fewe haue we furnished a poore Supper, as [Page 5] for Béefe and such like, I hold it rather a trouble to the sto­mack and the Table, then a necessarie meate for this conta­gious weather. It suffiseth mee (quoth I if it bee not more then néedes) to eate of two kinds of wilde flesh: & me thinks I haue supped with noble men to night, in whose time wee reade there was none other flesh eaten then Béefe, Porke, and Uenizon and such like, for the banquets of Agamemnon as we read in Homer, although (by the opinion of Lucian,) they might deserue to haue old Nestor at thé almost as a Pa­rasite, were not furnished with other viands And ye compani ons of Vlisses, bare not so many mishaps and heates of the Sunne for the desire of Feisants or Partrich, but to féede vp pon Béefe. Virgil likewise inducith Aeneas, that in Affrick slaw seauen Harts, where, after ye iudgment of some, it shold haue beene some other thing, for in Affrick are no Harts bred, but in hauing regarde to the conueniencie and custome of Noblemens dyet, he faigned or forgat that which proper­lie is vsed and eaten in that prouince.

And wherefore (quoth the olde man) did the Poets faigne that Noble m [...]n of their time, did eate such kinde of flesh. Because (quoth I) they are of great nourishment, and they (as those that exercised themselues with much labour) had néede of great nourishment, which Birds cannot yéelde that are so easilie digested: but the flesh of wild Beasts, although they be of great nourishment, yet are they wholesome be­cause they be much exercised and stirring, and theyr fatte is farre more naturall then that of Swine, or other Beastes that fatneth by the hande, for it is not so soone puft vp & fat­ned, as those Beasts that commonly are stald and foddered, therefore it was aptly said of Virgil, speaking of Aeneas sol­diours.

Implentur veteris bacchi pinguisque ferina.
And they are filled euery one
With olde wine and fat venison.

For they fedde thereof at will, without any noisome or superfluous fulnes. Héerewithall I held my peace, and the [Page] olde man began thus. The discourse that you haue made of Wine, and of the auncient times of Noble men, makes mee remember that which I haue hearde obserued of Homer, who euermore in praysing Wine, called it Nigrum et dul­ce, which two conditions, me thinks are not very commen­dable, and so much the more it séemeth strange vnto me that he should giue Wine commendations of that sort, the more Wines of the Easterne parts. I haue obserued, that ye wines of Leuant, which are brought ouer héere to vs, are white of collour, as are the Malmeseys, and the Romaine wyne which I haue tasted of in Venice, without that, the wines which in the kingdome of Naples are called Grecian Wines, because they were made of the Grapes that grow in Greece, bee white or rather gold-col­loured, as that aboue all the rest is wherof we haue spoken. And those wines are more properlie white that are of the Rheyne of Germanie, and those others that growe in colde Countries, where the Sunne hath not so much force as it can rypen Grapes before ye time of Grape-gathering, albeit happilie the manner of their making, may also be the cause of their whitnes.

Héere I aunswered, that the Wines were termed swéete of Homer, with that kind of Metaphor wherwith al things, either pleasing to the sences, or acceptable to the minde, are required to be swéete. Howbeit, I denie not that perhaps he loued swéete Wines himselfe, which also most contenteth me, neither is this sweetnes of Wine vnpleasant or hurtful but at some seasons: and the Malmesey, Greeke & Romain Wines whereof wee haue made mencion, all of them haue some kind of swéetnes, which is neuerthelesse lost the older the Wine is: wherevpon we reade.

Inger mi calices amariores.
Pray fill with bitter Wine
These challices of mine.

This was not because the Poet desired bitter Wyne (for there is none to whom bitternes is not vnpleasant) but [Page 6] because olde Wine loosing the swéetnes, yéeldeth that sharp and heddie taste, which he calleth bitter, & I would so wishe you to vnderstande that it is called swéete of Homer, as it was called bitter by Catullus: afterward Homer calleth it black, hauing reference to some particuler Wine that was then in price, as is nowe our Lachrima, which though it bee Which we call redde Wine. prest from one selfe same Grape as the Wine of Greece is, hath yet a vermillion couller. Hauing aunswered thus, I tasted of a cup of delicat white Wine with my Mellons, and afterward, béeing begun to by him, I pledged him of a cup of neate Claret Wine, & vpon interposition of some words, we ended our merry Supper. For the meate taken awaie, there was sette on the Table all sorts of fruite in great a­boundance, whereof when the old man had onely tasted, hee began thus to reason.

I haue many times hearde much questoning of the no­blesse and varietie of seasons, and I haue séene two Letters that are extant to be reade, of Mutius the one, and the other of Tasso, wherein they contende of the woorthines betwixt Winter and Sommer, but me thinks no time may be com­pared to Autumn. For the Sommer with extreame heate, and the Winter with extreame colde, are otherwhile so in­tollerable, as we can neither temperate the one with fruits nor the other with pastimes: and they are not onely a hyn­deraunce to the Mariner, who in the Winter is enforced to kéepe the Hauen. To the trauailer, Souldier & huntsman, who in Sommer are constrained to retyre them from the heate, raynes and tempests, vnder the shade of a Trée, or shroude of a Church, whether they first find: but to ye house­keeper also, who without many inconueniences cannot haue the time so much as to surueigh his grounds. The one sea­son then is full of labor and of sweat, neither enioyeth it the third part of the fruite it bringeth foorth, for spoile of wea­ther, wormes and windes. The other slothfull and sleepie, betwixt idlenes and eating, vniustly consumeth that which the labour of another time hath yéelded. Which iniustice, is [Page] indifferently to be noted by the difference betwixt the day and night. For in Winter, the daie which is most woorthy, yeeldeth to the night, whereof it is vnreasenable yt it should be ouercome: and beeing short, colde, and cloudie, it giueth not men conuenient time to worke or to contemplate. So that our operations and contemplations are enclozed with darknes and reserued to the night, a time nothing necessarie for the one nor other. For the sences that are ministers of vnderstanding, cannot so entirely exercise their office in the night. In the Sommer, the daie becomes vi [...]or and raigneth not like a Lord, but like an extreame Tirant, that [...] more then needes, leauing the night not so m [...]ch [...]me as that therein we may sufficiently restore our bodies resolued with excéeding heate and contagions of the day, of whose shortnes not onely ye Louers (that would haue if long) were wont to lament, but the goodwife of the house also, who e­uen then that shee woulde nes [...]le in the a [...]mes of her Hus­band, is by him forsaken and awaked, and the [...] withall hee laughed so hart [...]e looking vpon his wife, that she blushing held downe her head, and he procéeded. These if I be not be­guiled, are the inconuentences and discomodities of ye Win­ter and Summer, whereof the Spring and Autumn are not to be touched, for they are fraught with millions of delights, and in their times, the Sun (like a most indifferent Gouer­nour) formith the day & night of such equalitie, as the one hath little cause to complaine of the other. But if wee wyll cōpare Autumn & the Spring togeather, we shall soone finde the spring so farre inferior to Autumn, as hope is to effects, and flowres to fruits, whereof Autumn m [...]st aboundeth of all other seasons. Besides that, whatsoeuer fruite Sommer hath brought foorth, endureth euen vntill then, and manie other hath Autumn onely proper to his season, whereof as one especiall, is Grapegathering for the wine-presse, which is, or ought to bee one of the chéefest cares the Housekeeper should haue, for if hee be deceiued by his Seruaunts in ga­thering of his Corne, he thereof onely féeles some losse and [Page 7] discommoditie, but if in making of his Wines they practise neuer so little falshood, he doth not onely suffer the losse, but shame, when it happeneth that hauing honorable guests, he cannot commende his Supper with good Wines, without which, Non solum frigesci [...] Uenus, but all his meats are mard that might be drest by the most excellent Cooke the Duke hath. Therefore I conclude that Autumn is the most noble and best season of the yéere, and that which is indéede most acceptable to the Housekeeper: and I remember I haue hearde my Father saie, who (if the troth reported of him may but be beleeued) was for naturall Morall Philosophie and eloquent deuise, more then meanelie learned, that in this season the world began, as indeede wee may assuredlie beleeue it did.

That (quoth I) hath béene the opinion of some Doctors of the Hebrues, and Christians of great account, which not­withstanding beeing no Article of our beliefe, euery manne may credite as he list, I for my part am one of them yt holde the contrary, & it séemeth to me more likelie, that the (world beginning as it is supposed) it thē began about the Spring, which I will thus constraine my selfe to prooue.

You shall vnderstand that Heauen is round, and hath all his parts so vniforme, as in it there can bee perceiued nei­ther beginning nor ende, ryght nor left, vnder nor ouer, be­fore nor behind, which are the sixe positions of place, vnlesse it happilie be in respect onely of the motion, because that is the right side whereof the motion hath his beginning, but because the motion of the Sunne goes against the Primum mobile, it may bee doubted whither these sixe differences of place, ought chiefely to be taken according to the motion of the Primum mobile, or according to the motion of the Sun. Neuerthelesse, forasmuch as all thinges contained in thys our variable and corruptible world, chiefely depende vppon the motion of the Sunne, which is the cause of generation and of corruption, & is indeede the father of all liuing things, it is requisite that the motion of the Sunne determine the [Page] differences of the place. According therefore to the motions of the Sun, our Pole is the higher, which according to the motion of the Primum mobile should be the lower. This bée­ing thus, if we will séeke in what season it is like the world began, we shal sée it is most reasonable, that it then began when ye Snn remouing foregoes not, but aprocheth vs. Be­sides, it beginneth with generation not with corruption, for according to ye custome of nature, things are first ingendred, and afterward corrupted: but ye Sun remouing out of Aries it approcheth vnto vs, and there giueth beginning to the generation and engendering of thinges. It is likelye then, that when the world began the Sunne was in Aries, which without doubt he shall see is so, that dilligently considereth what was said in Platos Tymeus of God the Father to those inferior Gods. True it is, that who so taketh the positions of place from the motion of the Primum mobile, it must fol­lowe that the Pole Antartick is the higher by Nature, and that the world began in that season wherein the Sunne re­mouing approcheth néerer vnto our Antipodes, & beginneth generation in those parts of ye other world that are opposite to these: which who so graunteth, it would séeme more like­ly that the world began in the Autumnal aequinoctial, when the Sunne was in Libra, and yet it would follow that it be­gan in the Spring, because this that is Autumn to vs, is their springtime, in respect whereof, the beginning of ye mo­tion should be taken. But the first opinion, as by naturall reason it is most likelie, so also may it be most commodiously consorted with perswasions. For our worlde was dignified with the presence of the true Sonne o [...] GOD, who made choyse to die in Ierusalem, which according to the Cosmo­graphicall dyscription of some, is in the midst of our Hemy­sphere. Moreouer, it was his will so dye in the Spring, of purpose to redéeme our humaine generation in that time wherein at first he had created it. And héere I ceased, when the olde man mooued with my spéeches, beganne earnestlie to looke vpon me, and said.

[Page 8] I haue entertained a greater guest then I expected, and you, (quoth he) are peraduenture one of those of whome the crye is come into our Countrey, who vppon some common fault are fallen into mis-fortunes, whereof you are as woor­thy to be pardoned (cōsidering your offence) as to be praised and admired for your spéeches. Report (quoth I) that coulde not happily blazon mine estimation or sufficiencie, whereof you are too courteous a commender, is nowe deriu'd from my mis-fortunes. But what or whoseuer I may bee, I am one that speake more for truth sake then of hatred, dispraise of others, or superfluous conceit of mine opinions. If you be such an one (quoth he) for I will not search or pry into your state, you cannot but be an indifferent & fit Iudge of a mat­ter, which my Father (loaden both with age and with expe­rience) participated vnto me a fewe yéeres before his death, giuing vp the gouernment of his house and care of his fami­lie to me. And whilst he thus spake, the Seruants tooke a­way, and the auncient Gentlewoman giuing thanks arose, and was attended by her Sonnes, who after a while retur­ning, I beganne. Syr, it shall be very acceptable vnto mee, to heare the dyscourse your Father made vnto you, as you were in purpose to haue tolde me, but because it woulde bee gréeuous vnto me to harken thereunto, with the dysease of those that are about vs, I beséech you commaund your Sons to sitte, who obeying the gentle commaunds of their father, the good olde man began thus.

About that time that Charles the fift deposed his Mo­narchie, and withdrew himselfe from the worlde, as from a tempest to contemplation and a quiet life, my good Father, béeing then thréescore and tenne yéeres old, my selfe some­what more then thirtie, called mee to him, and began to rea­son with me thus. The déedes of greatest Kings, that turne the eyes of all the world vpon theyr actions, albeit that for their greatnes and magnificence, it séemes they can haue no preportion of comparison with priuat men, neuerthelesse they mooue vs nowe and than with the authority of theyr [Page] examples, to imitate them in such sort, as we behold the pro uidence of our almighty God followed by Nature: not onlie in man, a reasonable creature, whose dignity doth come so néere the Angels, but also in the industrie of other little cre­atures, whereby it should not séeme so strange to vs: if now that Charles the fift, that thrise renowmed Emperor, hath thus deposed and discharged him of the weight of his so fa­mous Monarchie, I also thinke by his example to disgrade me of this petit gouernment of houshold: which to my pri­uat personne, is no lesse then is his Empire to his Maiestie. But first, before I shall surrender this, that rather apper­taines to thée then to thy Brother, as well in that thou art his elder as also more enclind to husbandry (a thing most néedful and appropriate to housekéeping) I will so instructe thee, touching things belonging to good gouernment, as I was taught not long since of my Father, who sprong of sim­ple parentage, and heyre of a small patrimonie, with indu­strie, sparing, and good husbandry, did much augment it, which hath not béene deteriora [...]ed since by mee: but twise as much encreased since my father left it. Howbeit if I haue not looked to my husbandry with so great care, nor liued so sparingly as he prescribed: neuerthelesse (let me boldly say thus much to thee my Son) the knowledge that I had tou­ching the nature of things, & fellowship of the worlde more then he, hath béene the cause that I with little more expence haue easely accomplisht what he (béeing vnlettared and not experimented in the world) did hardly [...] with much sparing, and with excéeding toyle euen of his owne person.

Now to begin, I say thus. That the care of a good hous­holder is deuided into two thinges, that is, his body and hys goods. In his personne he is to exercise thrée offices, viz. of a Father, a Husband, and a Maister. In his goods two pur­poses are proposed, Conseruation, and Encrease, touching euery of which, I will particularly reason: and first of hys body rather then hys goods, because the care of reasonable thinges is more woorth then that of things vnreasonable.

[Page 9] The good Housekéeper then, ought principally to haue care in choosing of his Wife, with whom hee must sustaine the personne of a Husbande, which happily is termed by a tytle more effectuall, Consort: for the Husband and ye wyfe ought indéed to be companions and consorts of one sesfe for­tune, all the good and all the euill incident to life, ought by them to be common and indifferently sustained. In such sort as the soule communicats her operations with the bodie, and the body with the soule, so that when any part of the bo­die grieueth vs, the mind can hardly be content, and vppon the malcontentment of the minde followes the infirmitie or weakenes of the bodie: so shoulde the Husband lament the sorrowes of the Wife, and the Wife the troubles of the Husband And the like communitie shoulde be in all offices and all operations And so much is that coniunction that the man hath with the Wife, like to that which the body hath with the soule, as not without reason ye name of Consort or Felow is to be attributed to the Husband and the Wife, as to the soule it hath béene héeretofore attributed. Forasmuch as Petrarch reasoning of the soule, saith.

"Lerrante mia Consorte
"My wandering Companion.

In imitation perhaps of Dante, who in his Canzonet of Noblesse said, that the soule was espoused to ye bodie. Albe­it for some other respect, it ought rather to bee resembled to the Husband then the wife, and euen as after that the bande that tyes the body and the soule togeather is disseuered, it séemeth not that the soule can bee conioynd with any other body. (Wherfore foolish is that opinion of some, that imagi­ned the soule did passe from one vnto another, as dooth the Pylgrim passing from one lodging to another) so shoulde it’ séeme conuenient that that woman or man, that haue beene diuorced by death from that first band of Matrimonie, ought not to be knit vnto a second: nor without great admiration should Dydo haue continued her vnwillingnes of hauing a seconde husbande, who speaketh thus in the book of Virgils Aeneidos.

[Page] Sed mihi vel tellus optem prius ima dehiscens
Uel pater omnipotens adigat me fulmine ad vmbras,
Ante pudor quam te violem, aut tua iura resoluem
Ille meos primus qui me sibi iunxit Amores
Abstulit: ille habeat secum seruetque sepulchro.

First wold I that the parched earth did riue & raught me in,
Or that th'almightie would with lightning driue mee to the
Ere I to lose or violate my chastity beginne, (deepe:
He hath my loue that first had me (interd) he his shal keepe.

Notwithstanding, forasmuch as custome & the Lawes dyspence with them in this, the woman as well as the man may without shame vndertake the second Marriage, espe­cially if they doo it for desire of succession (a desire most natu­rall in all reasonable creatures) but happier are they that haue but once in all theyr life béene tyed with that band.

Howe much the greater then and straighter the con­iunction is of the husbande and the Wife, so much the more ought euery one prouide to be indifferently matched, and truely this equallity of marriage is in two speciall thinges to be considered: Estate and Age. For as two Palfreys or two Oxen of vnequall stature cannot be coupled vnder one selfe yoake, so a noble woman matching with a man of base estate, or contrarily, a Gentleman with a Begger, cannot be consorted well vnder the bands of wedlock. But when it happeneth yet that by some accident of Fortune, a man ma [...] rieth a woman of so high a birth, hee ought (not forgetting that he is her Husband) more honor and estéeme of her then of his equall or of one of meaner parentage, and not onely to account her his companion in loue and in his life, but (in dy­uers actions of publique aparance) holde her his superior. Which honor is not yet accompanied with reuerence as is that which for manner sake wee are wont to doe to others. And she ought to consider that no distinction of nobilitie can be so great, but that the league which Nature hath ordeined [Page 10] betwixt men and women farre excéedeth it, for by Nature woman was made mans subiect. But if a man shal take to wyfe an inferior or meane woman, he also ought to weygh, that Matrimonie maketh equall many differences: and fur­ther, that he hath not taken her for a slaue or seruaunt, but for a fellow and companion of his life. And thus touching the estate of man and wife, let this suffise.

Nowe passing to the age, I say that the Husband should prouide to choose his wife rather yong then olde, not onelie because a woman is more apt to child-bearing in youth, thē otherwise, but because, (according to the testimony of Hesi­odus) she can better receiue, and retaine all formes of cu­stomes and conditions, wherewith it shall content her Hus­band to commend her. And for this (that the life of a woman is conscribd and ordinarily concluded in lesser tyme then Mans, and sooner waxeth olde, as one in whom naturall heate is not aportioned vnto superfluous moisture) the man ought to excéede the woman so many yéeres, as the begin­ging of the ones age match not with the others, so that one of them before the other become vnable and vnfit for gene­ration. Now if it happen that the Husband take a wife with these conditions, he shall furthermore easily exercise in her that superiority that hath béene graunted vnto man by Na­ture, where otherwise it often commeth to passe that he shal find her so excéeding waiward, crabbed and disobedient, that where he thought hee made his choyse of a companion that shold helpe to lighten and exonerat that ponderous & heauie loade which our humanity affordeth, he findes he is nowe matcht and fallen into the handes of a perpetuall enemie, who euermore none otherwise impugneth and resisteth him then our immoderate desires, that in our minds so much op­pose themselues to reason: for such is woman in respecte of man, as is desire in comparison of vnderstanding: and euen as desire, (which of it selfe is vnreasonable) is by obeying to vnderstanding, formed and beautified with many faire and necessary vertues: so a woman that conformes her selfe vn­to [Page] her Husband is adorned with those vertues, whereof by béeing obstinat she continucth vnfurnished. It is then a ver­tue in a woman, to know howe to honor and obey her Hus­band, not as a Seruant doth his Maister, or the bodye the mind, but ciuilly and in such sort, as we sée the Cittizens in wel gouerned Citties obey the Lawes, and reuercnce their Magistrates, or so as in our soules, wherein as wel the well dysposed powers as the orders of the Cittizens within their Citties, compell affections to be subiect vnto reason: & héere­in it hath béene conueniently ordeined of Nature. For being néedful that in the felowship of mā and wife, the offices and dueties should be diuers, and the operations of the one, var­rying from the others, it is conuenient also that their ver­tues should be diuers.

The vertues proper to man, are Wisedome, Fortitude, and Liberalitie. To woman, Modestie and Chastitie, wher­with both the one and the other of them, may very well per­forme those operations that are requisite: but albeit Cha­stitie or Shamefastnes be not properly the vertues of a man, yet ought a good Husband to offend the league of Matrimo­nie as little as he possibly may, and not to be so incontinent, as (béeing absent for a season from his wife) he cannot ab­staine from pleasures of the flesh, for if hee himselfe doo not first violate the bandes by so defiling of the marriage bedde, he shall doubtles much confirme the womans chastitie, who by nature libidinous, [...]d no lesse inclined to venerie then man, onely by shame, loue and feare, may not be withdrawn from breaking of her faith vnto her Husbande. Amongst which thrée affectiōs, Feare is as worthy of praise as blame, where the other two are indéede most commendable. And therefore not without great reason was it said of Aristotle, that Shamefastnes which merits no praise in a man, is most praise worthy in a woman: and his Daughter very excel­lently approues. That no collour better graceth or adornes a womans chéekes, then yt which shamefastnes depainteth, which increaseth and draweth as earnest loue and desire of others to them, as happily those other artificiall Oyles and [Page 11] dawbings which they vse, decreaseth & withdraweth from them, béeing in deede fitter for vizards, pageants & poppets, Ouid de med: faciei Certus [...] ­mor morū est, formam populabitur aetas. then wholesome, handsome or toothsome. And truely as a woman of discretion will in no wise marre her naturall cō ­plexion, to recouer it wt stone or artificiall coullered trash, so ought the husband in no sort to be consenting to such follies. But because it behoueth the rule and authoritie of the Hus­band to be moderate in those things, chiefely which apper­taine to women, which for that they are receiued and kept of custome, can not bee condemnd as arguments of much vnshamefastnes: He can practise no way better to dyswade her from such muddy making faire her face, then with shew ing himselfe a hater, contemner, and carelesse of those that are faire with that filthy spunging, proigning, painting and pollishing themselues. As for women desirous to séeme faire I cannot say to please others, but of honest women desirous to content their Husbands, I may boldly speake, that at such time as they shal sée their tricking vp their selues with Lie and such like filth, pleaseth not their husbands eyes, they I know of modestie and loue, will suddainly forbeare it. Much more easie to be entreated should the husbande be in graun­ting her those things, whereof her bodie with conuenient ornaments should be sufficiently apparelled, for albeit su­perfluous pompe be fitter for a stage or Theater then the person of an honest Matron: notwithstanding, herein much may be attributed to vse, neyther should a womans fantasie so sharplie be offended, considering that by nature shee is so desirous to adorne and beautifie her bodie. For albeit we sée that Nature in other creatures hath effected, that the bo­dies of the Male be more adorned then the Females, as the Hart with his fayre and bushie braunched hornes, the princely Lyon with his proude and feltred locks, which the Females neuer haue, and hath embroidered the Peacocks taile with more variety of collours thē those of theyr Hens. Neuerthelesse, wee may perceiue that in the shape of man, she hath had more regard to the beauty of the Female then [Page] the Male. For the flesh of women, as it is more soft & dain­tie, so are they ordinarilie more desired to be gazed on, ney­ther are their faces shadowed with beardes, which albeit they becom men, béeing proper vnto vs, yet can we not deny but that the countenaunces of youthes vppon whose faces hayre neuer came, are fayrer & farre more louely then those of bearded men. And Loue by the iudiciall figures of an­tiquitie hath béene portraied like a Boy, so Bacchus, so A­pollo, who of all the other Gods were most fayre, were de­ciphered without beards, but with long curled locks trussed vp in tresses, whereupon the Poets call him Phaebus wyth these Epythetons almost cōtinually. Non tosato o comato but Vnkempt. hayre (which is a great ornamēt of Nature) groweth not so hastilie vppon a man, nor so soft and fine as vppon women, who delight in theyr hayre as Trées doo in theyr leaues, and therefore at the death of theyr husbands spoyling and dys­robing themselues of all theyr other ornaments, they vse yet in some place of Italie, to cut away theyr hayre which also was an auncient custome, as we read of Hellen in Eu­ripides. How much the more regard then Nature hath had to the beauty of women, so much the more conuenient it is, that they account of it, and maintaine the same with comely ornaments.

Wherefore when thou shalt take a wife, such an one as I desire thou maist haue, fayre, yong, equall in estate with thée, modest, discreet, courteous, and brought vp in good dys­cipline, vnder the education of a graue Matron and wise mo­ther: how much the more she shall content thée, so much the more thou shouldest contend not to discontent her. Wherein thou oughtest not onely giue consent, that she may goe appa­relled as others of her calling doo, not restraining her from going to feasts and other publique shewes, where other ho­nest women and those of credit doo assemble: nor on the o­therside to giue her the bridle of libertie so much, that she be forwarde with the first at all dauncings, Comedies, & other such assemblies: but also not to forbid her those honest r [...]re [Page 12] ations and desires, which are as incident to youth, as flowrs to the Spring time, least she hate or feare thée with ye dread wherewith base slaues or seruaunts are kept vnder by theyr Maisters, nor yet to be so easily induced, to watch or follow her, as she thereby become so bold and hardy, that she lay a­side honest shame, (a decent thing in honest womē) which al so is a kind of feare distinguished from seruile base feare, and is as easily accompanied with loue, as seruile feare with hate, & of this feare which more properly is tearmed shame­fastnes or reuerence, spake Homer, saying:

O my beloued father in law whom I haue hourely feard.

Neither should he onely cause or procure shamefastnes in all her actions and busines of her life, but also in her en­tertainment and embracings, for the Husband commeth not with those prophane and superstitious cleppings as the de­licate and wanton Louer doth, which maketh me the lesse to meruaile that the kysses of Bell'ingannus Paramour, see­med sweeter to her then her husbandes: albeit I beleeue that there was neuer greater swéet in loue, then that which moderatly springs of honest Matrimonie. And I could com­pare the embracings of the Husbande and the Wife to the temperate suppers of well dieted men, wherein they taste no lesse commodity of the meats, then the most incontinent and surfeiting cōpanion: but hapely so much ye more by how much more their sences (ruld by reason) are vpright Iudges of theyr opposites and indigested contraries. Neither will I yet desist in this mine enterprise. For when Homer saigned that Iuno taking away Venus garter, went to séeke her Husband on the Mount of Ida, and hauing enticed hym with loue and louely termes and amorons games,

Lay down with him vpō the grasse al couered with a clowde

He meant none otherwise but this, that she taking vppon her the person of a Louer, and deposing the habit of a Wife, went to séeke Iupiter. For the faire wordes, pleasing fashy­ons, and daintie whispering speech that she had taken wyth the garter from Veuus, were things more beséeming a Lo­uer [Page] then a Wife: wherefore it was conuenient, that béeing ashamed of her selfe, a Clowde shoulde bee sent to hide her. And where he saith Ioue had not thē so much desire towards her as before when he first tooke her to his Wife, it giueth vs to vnderstand, that married women are not forbidde for a little while to represent the person of yong Louers, which notwithstanding she must spéedilie reforme, because it is most vnséemelie in them that (as a Father or Mother, Mai­ster or Maistres of a house) desire to rule theyr family wyth honest and enterchaungable loue, which ought to bee twixt man and wife, who are also to liue vnder the lawes of Ma­trimonie. For if a man hauing an vicious or vnchaste wyfe, should presently kyll her, or in some other sort but punish her according to the Lawes, he may be happily employed better in some other action, which to eschew (taking a wyfe of our deciphering) he shall neuer neede to be aduertised by vs.

Now proceeding to the education of Children, the care of them should be deuided so betwéene the Father & the Mo­ther, as she may nurse and he may teache them: for the mo­ther ought not to deny her milke to her owne Children, vn­lesse she be preuented or forbidden by infirmitie. Forasmuch as that first and tender age of infancie, apt to bee molded of any fashion, oftentimes with the milke sucketh the conditi­ons of the Nursse: besides, if the mylke altered not the bo­dies and consequently the manners of yong sucklings, the Nurses shoulde not be so narrowly forbidde the often vse of wynes: but the Nurses béeing ordinary base persons, it fol­lowes that the first nourishment which the little ones re­ceiue of them, cannot be so gentle or so delicate as the Mo­thers, so that who so denieth the nursing of her child, in some sort denies to be the mother of it, because ye Mother is chief­lie knowne and commended by the bringing of her children vp.

But that first age past ouer, that is nourished with milk, the little ones doo yet continue in their Mothers custodie, [Page 15] who are vsed to be so kind and tender ouer them, as often­times they bring them vp too delicatly. For which the Fa­ther is commaūded to prouide this reamedy, that forasmuch as that first age aboundeth in naturall heate, he accustome Antiperi­stasis, where heate expel [...] cold, or cold expulseth heate, it is applied to well water, which is therefore cold in win ter, because the hygh parts of the ayre being cold, the heate with­draweth to the lower parts. them to cold for restraining the naturall heate within, and causing that which the Philosophers call Antiperistasis, the complexion of the childe becommeth strong and lustie. And it was the manner of some nations, and especially those of Aquitan and thereabouts, as we read in Aristotle, to wash their newe borne Children in the Riuers, to indurat & har­den them against the cold, which custome is by Virgil attri­buted to the Latins as it is to be noted in these verses.

Durum a stripe genus natos ad stumina primum,
Deferimus saeuoque gelu duramus, et vndis,
Uenatu inuigilant pueri, syluamque fatigant
Flectere ludis equos & spicula tendere cornu.

A painful people by our byrth, for first our babes we bring,
Like vs to be inurd to cold, and plundge them in the spring:
But bigger grown they tende the chase, & tire the woods to
Their horses fit for seruice, & their archery for aime. (frame

Which custome as I commende not, because to vs that haue not vsed it it séemes exstreame, so yet I thinke good to aduise thée, that if it shall please God to giue thée Children, thou doo not bring them vp vnder so soft and easie discipline, as they become such milke sops as were those Phrygians, of whom the same Poet in that same booke of his Aeneidos maketh mention.

Uobis, picta croco & fulgenti murice vestis
Et tunica manicas, & habent redimicula mitrae
O vere Phrygiae, (neque enim Phryges) ite per alta
Dyndima, vbi assuetis biforem dat tibia cantum,
[Page] Tympana vos buxusque vocat Berecynthia matris
Idcae, sinite arma viris, & cedite ferro.

Your robes are dyed wyth Saffron and with glistring purple budds,
Your cote hath mittins, and your high Priests hats are made like hoods
O Phrygia in deede (nor Phrygians yet) scale you high Ida hyl,
Where [...]rompets eccho clang's to those that of the custome skyll,
Cebiles Berecyntian pypes and Tymberils you see
Doe call you thence, leaue armour then to such as Souldiers be.

Whom (me thinks at this day) they of some Citties in Lombardy are like, for if any there be valiant, many of the Phrygians also were couragious. Nor would I yet that thou sholdest bring them vp so hardly or seuerely as the Lacede­monians were accustomed, or as Achylles of Chyro was. I would not (I say) that yu shouldest bring thē vp so fiercely, for such an education makes thē rather wilde & sauadge, which though the Lacedemonians reputed fitting for a noble man, yet was not Achilles such an one in his conditions, as others (of our time néed) to propose him or his behauiour for theyr example.

Thy priuate estate requires that so thou teach and bring vp thy Children, as they may become good members of the Cittie where thy selfe inhabitest, or they shall dwel, good seruitors and subiects to their Prince, which in theyr trades if they be Merchaunts, in good letters if they bee learned, and in wares if they be able, they may shew themselues. Neither shall thy Children be vnfurnished of all, or one of these professions, if thou sée that they become not werish and of a womanish effeminate complexion, but of a strong & man lie constitution, and that they exercise themselues in prac­tise of the mind and body, al alike or both togeather. But be­cause al this part of education and bringing vp of Children, is or ought to be in a manner, the care of a Father and good Housekeeper, because it is wholie pollitique, that should pre scribe an order to the Father, howe he is to educate & bring vp his Children, to the ende that the Citties discipline may [Page 14] conforme and be agréeable therewith.

I will lay a part this argument, or at least dysioyne it from the rest which I will speake of housekeeping, and it shall suffise me soly to aduise and counsell, that thou bring them vpp in the feare and loue of God, honor of their Pa­rents, and in their Princes seruice and obedience, and that they be continually exercised in those most commendable practises of mind and body, as become them, and may better their estate with praise and honestie.

We haue nowe spoken so much as hath béene conueni­ent for thée to doo in the person of a Husband and a Father, eftsoones it remaineth that we come to the consideration of the third person: I meane that of a Gouernour or Maister, terme it as you list, which soly hath relation to the seruant. And if we shall giue credite to antiquities written of house­keeping and gouernment of families. The Maister ought to holde them satis-fied with labor, victuall & chastisement, & to keepe them exercised in obedience. But forasmuch as theyr Seruaunts in olde time were slaues taken in warres, and afterward called seruaunts a seruando (for yt they were pre­serud from death, and are at this day for the most part ma­numitted and enfranchized) mee thinks this latter part of chastisment might well be left, as nothing requisite for our times or customes (except percase in those partes where slaues yet serue) and in steede thereof, the Maister to giue them admonition, which should not be such neyther, as is v­sed by the father to the son, but compleat and vttered with more austeritie and signiorzing termes, and if that will not serue, to suffer the disobedient stifnecked and vnprofitable seruaunt to depart, and to prouide himselfe of one that bet­ter may content him. And yet one thing hath beene forgot­ten of those men of elder times, which was not conuement for slaues, but not onely fitting, but most néedfull for free­men, & this is [...]llarie or wages. With wages, meate, work and admonition, then the Housekéeper shall so gouerne hys familie, as they shall rest content of him, and he be satis-fied [Page] of their labour. But because (albeit the Lawes and vsages of men are variable and diuers, as wee see perticulerly in this of sernaunts, who for she greater number are at thys day free-man: yet for asmuch as the Lawes and dyfferen­ces of Nature are not chaunged either by alteration of time, or variety of customes.) Whatsoeuer others saye, thou art thus to vnderstande, that this distinction of Soue­raigne, Ruler, Gouernour, or Maister, is first founded vpon Nature: for some are naturally borne to commannde, and others to obey: and hee that is borne to obey, were hee of the Kings bloode, is neuerthelesse a seruaunt, though he bee not so reputed: because the people that onely haue regarde to exterior things, iudge none otherwise of the conditions of men, then they doo in Tragedies of him they call the King, who apparrelled in Purple and glistering all in Golde and precious stones, represents the person of Agamemnon, A­treus or Etheocles, where if he chaunce to faile in action, cō ­lines, or vtteraunce, they doe not yet derrogat from hys olde title, but they say, The King hath not playde his part well. Likewise he that represents the person of a noble man, or Gentleman, that in this life (which is a Theater of the world) hath béene deposed or bereft his dignitie, he shall ne­uerthelesse be called the Noble or ye Gentleman stil, though he be happily Dauus Syrus or Geta. But when it happe­neth yt some one is found, not onely seruile in condition and of fortune, but base of mind, grosse of vnderstanding, and as Petrarch sayth. Nudo di iudicio e pouero d'argomento. Naked of iudgment, and poore of argument. as the greater num­ber are, he may be properly termed a Seruaunt, and of him and such like, the good Housekeeper (that woulde haue such persons serue him as he might commaund with reason) may well furnish his house, seeking no further vertue in them then that they may be capable of his commaundements, and execute them willingly, wherein they differ from Horsses, Mules, and other Beastes, whom Nature hath also framed apt to learne, and to be ruled tamed and guided by man, for [Page 13] they in the absence of their Maisters record the things com­maunded, which these no longer knowe then they are lear­ned, or scarce performe euen when they are commaunded: so that a seruaunt may be called Animal rationale, a Reaso­nable Creature, by participation, euen as the Moone and the Starres receiue light by participation with the Sunne, or as mens appetitcs by participation with the light of vnder­standing become reasonable: for as our appetites receyue within themselues the forme of that vertue which reason hath imprinted in them, so doth the seruaunt reserue ye forme of those impressions whatsoeuer, commaunded or required in him by his Maister, and of them & of theyr Maister some­times may be sayde, as Petrarch speaking of himselfe and Laura reasoneth.

Si che son fatto huomo ligio,
Di lei ch' alto vestigio,
Mimpresse al core, e fecel suo simile.

So that I see I am become hir liege man and hir thrall,
That made impressions in my hart, & printed hyrs withall.

And because the authority of Hesiodus that auncient Poet shall not beguile thee, who reckoning vp the proper­ties of housekeeping, placed the Ore in steede of yt seruaunt, I wil thou vnderstand more properlie, yt the manner wher­with seruaunts are gouerned, differeth much from ye wher­with we gouerne Beasts. For that enstruction or kinde of teaching Beastes, is not discipline, but an vse and custome, dissonant and segregat from reason: not vnlike as the right hande holdeth and disposeth any sort of weapon, better then the left, albeit there is no more reason in it then in ye other, but the mind also of Seruants is accompanied with reason, and may become discipline, as is that of Children, wherfore they speake without sence and coniccture vnreasonablie, that rob and reaue their Seruaunts of the vse of reason: con­sidering [Page] it is no lesse needefull for them then Children but more peraduenture, (they hauing alreadye so much tempe­raunce and strength, as not only serueth to defend thēselues, but to rescue many times and asist their Maisters in the pe­rill of some ciuill broyle or other troubles, that may often­times betide them.) And therefore was it well sayde of that Thoscan Poet.

Ch'inanzi a buon signior, fa seruo forte.
Before his maister whom he likes,
The sturdy seruaunt stoutly strikes.

And not without cause were Mylos seruaunts commen­ded so by Cicero in his Dration pro Milone, and all those others of whom we reade some memorable matters in Va­lerius Maximus, with many more, whose examples if I should but practise to recount, I should soone forget my pur­pose. That Seruaunts are properly those that are borne to obey: who therfore are not capable of any office within the Cittie because they want vertue: whereof they faste but barely so much as onely makes them apt and ready to obey. But if thou hast perused Histories, and redd of that moste perillous conflict amongst the Romains which they called Cyuill warre, (because it was begunne and stirred vp by ser­uaunts) and likewise in our time of the Armies which the Soldane gathered of slaues, and at this day of those fearefull Hostes which the great Turke mustercth, and for the most part maketh of the like: thou shalt then record and bring to mind our plaine distinction, that absolutly will resolue thée, and discharge the greatest doubt thou canst imagine. Manie are seruaunts by Fortune that are free by Nature. And it is not to be meruailed at, that many cruell conflicts and daun­gerous warres are caused and continued by such as these. Howbeit, it is a great argument of basenes, that seruile fortune can engender seruile euils in a gentle mind. And yet for instance I remember an example of ye Scythians worth [Page 16] while the noting: who hauing assembled an Armie of mē a­gainst theyr seruants yt had then rebelled, knowing none o­ther meane or policy to pacifie or put thē down, they aduisde to carry with them to ye field (besides their weapons) many whips and bastonadoes which (making them remember the strypes & strokes that in theyr seruitude they had receiued) put them presently to flight.

But returning to those Seruaunts whereof a house or familie in deede should be composed or furnished, I cannot commend those that are neither fitte for warre, in mind nor body, but such as are of streng complexion, fit for labor, coun­trey busines, and household exercise. These would I deuide into two formes, the one vnder the other, as the one of su­perindents, surueighors, or work-maisters: the other of workmen. The first shall be the Stewarde, to whom by the Maister of the house, should the housholde care bee commen­ded. The next, to whom the busines of the stable & of Hor­ses should be gyuen, as in great houses it hath béene accusto­med. The thyrd, the Baylieffe to whom the Town affaires belong and are committed. The others shall bee such inferi­ours as shall be con [...]rold, and at commaundement of those higher officers.

But for asmuch as our fortune hath not gyuen vs that wealth whereby we should expect to haue our houses so dy­stinguished and multiplyed with offycers, it shal susfise thée to prouide one for all, that may be Stewarde, Horsekeeper, and Baileffe, and (him) commaunde the rest that are thy Hyndes and meauer seruaunts to obey: gyuing euery one hys sallary or day wages, more or lesse as in theyr labours they deserue: ordeyning victuall for them, so as they may rather haue too much then want. Howbeit, yet thou art to féede thy Seruaunts with some other meate, then such as shall be set vpon thyne owne boorde: where dyfdayne not nowe and than to sée such grosse or homely kind of fare, as according to the season shall be happilye purueighed or pro­uided for thy seruaunts, to the ende that they séeing thy selfe [Page] somtimes bouchsafe to taste therof, may the more willinglie be satis-fied therwe: amongst which, those relicts & fragmēts of that finer fare that shall be taken from thy Table, may be serued, still hauing some respect to the estate and desert of euery one. But because a family well fedde and truely paid, may with idlenes and ease become pestilent, bréeding euill thoughts, and bringing forth worse works: not vnlike those Pooles and standing waters, which (hauing no recourse) putrifie the good, and engender naughtie Fish.

Thy cheefe care, and the duetie of thy Steward, shall be thys, to kéepe euerie one perticulerlie exercised in his perti­culer office, and generallie all, in such busines as thou canst not seuerallie set them to. For euerie thing that belongs to keeping of a house, cannot necessarily bee doone by him that hath another charge: the Stewarde, he must purueigh thy meates: the Chamberlaine, make the bedds and brush: the Horsekéeper, rubbe the horses and clense the stable: and con­sequently euery other, otherwise be occupied. The carefull Steward or surueighor of the house, should therefore (wyth dyscretion) dispose the works, that are or cannot be deuided or distributed, nowe to one, nowe to another, but aboue the rest, to haue a speciall care, that in the house, Coates, Ta­bles or Coffers, be no vncleanes, filth or Rubbishe, but that the very walles and pauements, lofts and sellers, Harnes and implements of houshold, maie bee pollished and kept so cleane, that (as we terme it) it may shine like Siluer, or looke as bright as Christall. For cleanlines is not onelie pleasing or delightfull to beholde, but adioyneth worth, and bettereth things by Nature base and filthie, as continuallie beastlines and filth, corrupt, disgrace and spoile, thinges o­therwise of value and account: besides, Cleanlines increa­seth and preserueth the health, as much as sluttishnes an­noyeth and impay [...]eth it. Nay what more is, euery seruant should perticulerlie haue such care of scowring and keeping cleane those tooles and instruments he works withall, and that belong vnto his office, as the Souldiour hath to sée his [Page 17] weapons to be bright, for such are, is, or shold be, euery toole to him that hath the exercise thereof, as are the weapons which the Souldiour vseth: whereupon Petrarch speaking of the Ploughman, writeth thus.

L'auaro Zappatore l'armi reprende.
The Ploughman takes his weapons once againe.

After the imitation of Virgil, who before he had called those instruments weapons, which the Countreymen did vse, wrote thus.

Dicendum & quae sint duris agrestibus arma.
And tel the weapōs wherwithal the sturdy clownes cā work

And where also he termes the Bakers instruments weapons.

Tum Cererem corruptam vndis, cerealiaque arma
Expediunt fessirerum:
Aeneid. Lib. 2.
Then run the weary forth to fetch the watrie rotten Corne,
And baking weapons &c.

But because it sometime happeneth, that one is too much charged with labor, and another hath more day then work, one should so helpe another, as wee sée by vse in our owne bodies, when the one leg is weary we can rest it one yt other, or when the right hand is ouer labored, we can ease it wyth the left, and when entercourse of loue & courtesie entreats not thus amongst them, then shoulde the Maister himselfe commaund the negligent and vnprofitable Seruant, to help and ease the weary and the well imployed.

But aboue all, me thinks the Charitie of Maisters, and loue of Seruants to their fellowes in their sicknes, is espe­ciallie to be vsd and shewn, at which time, the sicke are to be seuerally lodged from the whole, and nourished with more choise and daintie meate: nor shoulde the Maister of ye house dysdaine, or shew himselfe so scornful or vnkind, as not to vi­site them: for if bruite beasts reioyce to sée their Maisters chéerish them, as we may dailie sée in dogs, how much more may we beléeue that men and reasonable creatures are com forted therwith? Wherupon it comes to passe, that good ser­uants [Page] liking and affecting of their Maisters, vnderstand thē at a beck, and obey them at a winck of the eye, or bent of the brow, not as a water-spaniel, but as the hand is sturred to o­bey the mind, so prompt and ready is the seruant to obey his Maister. For as the hand is said to be The instrument of in­struments, beeing it (indeede) that serues to féede, apparrell, and keepe cleane the rest of the lims, which are also called instruments, so is the Seruant said to bee an instrument of instruments: because he kéepeth all the instruments of hous­hold occupied, not only to liue, but to liue wel, wherin he dif­fereth from all the other instruments. For where they are Inanima, things without soule, he is Animatus, and diuinelie is enriched with a soule, and héerein differeth from the hand, for that the hand is fastned and vnited to the bodie, but he se­perate and disoyned from his Maister, and is also different frō Artificers, for Artificers are Instruments of those things which properly they call workmanship: but the Seruaunt is Instrument of the actiom, which also is distinguished from workmanship. So yt the seruaunt, if you will rightly vnder­stand him, is, Animatum actionis, & Instrumentum seperabile. A liuely & seueral instrument of action. But forasmuch as of actions, some are placed in care of families and housholde busines, some stretch further, and extend to ciuil administra­tion, there are some Gentlemen (amongst whō I wish thee to be numbred) that vse to kéepe a youth, who in theyr ciuill gouernment, doth serue to write and mannedge, some of their affaires, and him they call theyr Clerke, but these doo farre differ from the other, considering that for the most part they are, or ought to be, not of seruile or materiall witt, but capable of fashions, or apt to studie or contemplat, and be­twixt them and their Maisters, can be properly no seruitude or signiory, but rather that kind of friendship, which by Ari­stotle is applied in the highest. Albeit in those good worldes of the Romaine Common wealth, these were taken frō that number of other seruants, and such an one was Terence, the wryter of Comedies, who was so familiar with Lelius and [Page 18] Scipio, as it is thought there is somewhat of theyr dooings in his works. The like was Tyro, of (whom are many Let­ters extant that were written by Tullie) who béeing an ex­cellent Gramarian, was also a most dilligent obseruer of some little things, whereof Cicero was rather a dyspray­ser then ignoraunt. But because that vse of seruice as wee talkt of, is (at this day) vtterly extinguished betwixt ye Mai­sters and their Seruants of such singularity: those lawes of friendship ought to be obserued & maintained in more highe degrée. And héereupon was that Treatise of vnder Officers (especially) writtē by Signior Giouanni della casa, which (for that thou art desirous to peruse his workes) I knowe must many times be redd and redd again by thée, I will therefore perticularize none, but refer thée to the booke.

And nowe because we haue sufficiently spoken, (though not so much as you desire) touching the regard of the person, for that our spéeche hath reference as well to Maydens as men Seruaunts, and because there hath béene nothing left out that belongeth to a Husband, a Maister, or a Housekee­per: I thinke it requisite to come to that, which we deui­sed and deuided for the second part of our discourse: that is, of Wealth or substance, wherein we wil effectually make men­tion of the duetie of a Huswife, and of womens busines. The care of wealth or substance, as we said before, is imployed to Conseruation and Encrease, and is deuided betwixt the Ma­ster and Mistresse, because the encrease is as proper to the Maister, as the keeping to the Mistresse, howbeit to him (that perticulerly considereth the care of the encrease) it is proper to the Maister, and the other common, whatsoeuer o­thers heertofore haue spokē to this purpose. But forasmuch as nothing can be encreased that is not first, and wholy kept togeather: the Housekeeper that is desirous to preserue his wealth, should perticulerly know the quallitie, and quantity of his reuenues and expences, wherewith he is to keepe his house, and to maintaine his family with credit, and (measu­ring the manner of his reuenewes, with the issue of his [Page] charges) so to liue, as his expence may prooue the least, ma­king that proportion with his comings in, as foure to eight, or sixe at least, for he that spends as much, as he receiues of his possessions, cannot recouer those losses, which by chaunce or Fortune may betide him: as by fires, tempests, inunda­tions, & other such, nor supply the necessity of some expence, which (béeing accidentall) cannot be prouided for. Further­more, (to be certified of his substance, and the value of his ri­ches) it be hooues that he himselfe haue séene, and measured his possessions, euen with those compasses, which gaue be­gining to Geometry in Egypt; which though they be diuers according to the variety of Countreys, is (notwithstanding) no occasion of substantiall difference; it also behooueth that he knowe, that what he reapes be aunswerable vnto that he sowed, and with what proportion, the earth restoreth that which it receiueth: and as requisit it is, that hee take ye like notice of all whatsoeuer els belongeth, to husbandry or gra­zing, and no lesse to harken after the prices, that are sette by publique Magistrates, or by consent of Marketfolks within the Countrey where he dwelleth, then to be enformed how they buy or sell in Turyno, Myllan, Lyons, or Venice, wher­of (béeing well aduertised and instructed) he cannot be decei­ued by his Bailiesfe, béeing a Husbandman, or abused by his Factor béeing a Merchaunt. But forasmuch as I haue said, that he ought to be aduised, both of the quantity and qualli­tie, of that which he possesseth: (I call not onely that Quan­titie which is measured by Geometrie, as are Fields, Me­dowes, Woods, or that which is accustomd to be numbred by Algorisme, as Flocks and Heards, but that which is ac­counted as gold or siluer coyned) for (in the quadering and making euen of the enteries, with the expences) no quantity is more to be considered, then that of money, which may bee gathered and receiued of Rent, and such like reuenewes, which is often chaunging and incertaine: for Landes are not alwaies let at one rate, their price and profits rise and fall as other meane things, or things of more account. In [Page 19] which incertainty and variable state of thinges, a good Hus­bands iudgment, experience, & dilligence so much preuailes, as not only is sufficient to preserue, but to encrease his sub­stance, which béeing in the manurance and handling of an ignorant, or ouerwéener, dooth not onely decrease, but peri­sheth.

That call I Quallity of substance then, that is artificial or naturall, of liuing things, or things without life: Artefi­ciall are moueables or houshold implements, and hapely the house it selfe, and money which was first found out by mans appointment. Because we may liue without it, as they dyd in the old time, wherin exchaunge of things was made with out returne of money: afterward (by the lawe of man) was mony inuented, whereupon it was called Numus of [...], which (by the Greeke interpretation) signifieth Law, which commodiously fitting, and making equall things exchanged, hath made the entercourse of buying and selling, very easie, and more certaine, then when they onely vsed exchaunge.

Arteficiall riches may all those things be called, wherein the workmanship of the Maister is rather solde and more e­stéemed, then the matter or the thing made: Naturall are those that are produced by Nature, whereof also some are without life, as Lands, Medowes, Mettals, and some with life, as Flocks & Heards, whereof the good Housekeeper (of­tentime) receiueth profit. Further it commeth into the con­sideration of Quallitie, to know whether the Landes or pos­sessions, lye neere or far frō any Cittie, if they ioyne to any standing Lake or Poole, by the exhalation of whose euill va­pours, the ayre becommeth filthy and infected: or whether any Springs or Ryuers be adiacent, which by (ofte recorse and refluence) may gather vertue, to refine and purge the ayre: and whether they be guirt or enuironed with hylles, or lye open to the winds, whether vppon the bancks (to any nauigable water) or in a champant Countrey: whereby the commodities raised thereupon, may be transported easily in Carres, or other carriages vnto the Cittie, or whether it lie [Page] stéepeward downe the hyls, vneasie and painful to be past, so that he must needs be chargde wt sompter men: whether it be néere to any high way or common stréet, through which the Trauailers, Italian Merchants, or those of Germany or Fraunce are vsed to passe: or far from frequence, or resort of Passengers, or such as vse to bartre or exchaunge: if aloft, where it lyes in prospect, or below in some Ualley, where it may be ouerflowne: all which conditions, as they much in­crease and deminish the price and value of the things pos­sest, so may they be occasion of sparing in expences, and teach thée to conserue and multiply thy Reuenewes, if (like a good husband) thou aduise thee and consider it.

But to come somewhat more perticulerly to the care and regard, that is (indeede) required, he should so prouide that whatsoeuer is necessarye for the vse of his house in the Cittie, be brought from his Ferme or Mannor in the Coun­trey, and to leaue his house there, furnished of so much as may suffise him and his family when he shall bee disposed to soiourne there, and to sell the rest at such conuenient time as things are déerest, and with the mony that ariseth thereof, to buy those things which his owne possessions yéeld not, and yet are necessary for a Gentleman, now & then when they are better cheape. All which he may easily doo, if in sparing that expence he vsed at first, he reserue some mony ouerplus: againe, he may kéepe his mony by him many times, when by his own coniecture, opinion of Prognostications, or spéech of other mens experience he heares, or feareth any dearth or scarcity, and then to lay it out when hee perceiues the great aboundaunce of the yere, and fruitfulnes of seasons, remem­bring that example of Thales, who (through his knowledge Thales, one of the seuen wise men of Greece. of naturall things) suddainly became rich, with a bargaine that he made for Dyle. Thys shall bee the Husbands rare. But such things whatsoeuer as are brought into the house, eyther from the Countrey, or bought about in Markets, shal be wholy recommended to the wyues charge, who is to kéep and set thē vp, in seuerall places, according to their natures, [Page 20] for some would be kept moyst and cold, and some dry, other­some would be one while set in the Sunne, another while in the winde, some wilbe long kept, othersome a little while, all which a good huswife (well considering) shold cause those that wyll not kéepe, to be first eaten, and make store of the rest. Howbeit, those also that will not kéepe, (without cor­ruption) may be holpen many waies, and made to kéep long. For Salt and Uineger doo not onely keepe flesh long time sweete, and seazoned, but fish and fowle, which will bee sud­dainly corrupt. Besides, many sorts of fruit that will quick­ly putrefie and perish, if they be sharpe or tarte (otherwise not) wil be long maintaind in Uineger. Likewise the hang­ing vp in smoke, or baking of some kinds of flesh, or fish and diuers sorts of fruits, drawes away theyr moysture, (that is cause of their corruption) and maketh that they may be kept the longer.

Again, there are some things, which (béeing dryed) wold become both hard, and naught to eate, without some kinde of liquor or Conserues, whereof a good Huswife makyng store, for her prouision (if it happen that by some mischance or hynderaunce whatsoeuer, there can not come sufficient store of meate from the market, for her husbands Table, or that they suddainly are driuen to entertaine a Straunger) she may (in a minut) furnish her messe with those iunckets, and ye in such good sort, as there shalbe no misse of any other meats. She must also haue regard, ye al her houshold Corne, be some ground for bread, and othersome made fit for drink, and so distribute it indifferentlie with equall measure, both to the men and mayd seruants, vsed for those purposes: a­mongst whom, she shall haue one aboue the rest, as the Mai­ster hath his Stewarde or Cashur, that shall kéepe one keye, and she another, that though the Maister or Mistres be abroade, there may be one to deliuer out such thinges as shall be needfull, and to bid a Stranger drinke, which cu­stome is not gueason in some houses, where the Steward or Butler beares the keyes, as well of houshold necessaries, as [Page] all things els, pleasing ye Maister, and not vnplesant to the appetites of those he entertaineth. Therefore a good Hus­wife should so prouide, that all things whatsoeuer (if occasi­on of resort of straungers be not to the contrary) may be spa­ringly disposed: For thrift or liberalitie is as needfull in a woman as a mā. Besides, she shold busie herselfe in viewing and surueighing such things, as she charged to be kept, mea­suring things to be measured, and kéeping iust account of things that are to be accounted: neyther ought her care on­ly extend to the spending of them, or vnto other things re­hearsed, but also to ye wynes, wc the older they are, and ye lon­ger they are kept, become so much the better, I speake of choyse wynes, which get strength with age: for the small wynes, and those of little spirite that quickly lose theyr strength, should be first dronk or sold if thou haue any quan­titie. But her principall care should be of Lynnen or of wol­len weauing, wherewith she may not onely make prouision necessary & fitt, for the ability and credite of her house: but honestly gaine, which is as requisite in her, as is her Hus­bands profit gathered by the buying, selling, or exchanging other things. Neither ought a good Huswife to dysdaine or scorne, to set her hand nowe and then to some work. I mean not in the Kitchin, or other soyled places, which may spoile or ray her garments, because such busines are not to be ma­nedged and handled by noble Matrons (yet to be seene vnto by such whose state may tollerate such thrift) but in those onely that without noysomnes or filthines she may be bolde to touch, and such are properly the whéeles, lombes, & other instruments that appertaine to weauing, wherewith a good Huswife may furnish any sufficiēt house or dwelling, either for her eldest Sonne or Daughter: and not without reason was this arte first attributed to Minerua goddesse of wyse­dome, in so much as it was deriued first from her, as appea­reth by these verses in the Booke of Virgill.

Inde, vbi prima quies medio iam noctis abactae
Curriculo expulerat somnum, cum faemina primum
[Page 21] Cui tolerare colo vitam tenuique Minerua
Impositum ciner [...]m, & sopitos suscitat ignes
Noctem addens operi, famulasque ad lumina longo
Excercet penso, [...]astum vt seruare cubile
Coniugis & possit pa [...]uos educere natos.
The first sleepe ended, after midnight did the woman wake
That liu'd by spinning, & she gins the ymbers vp to rake,
And adding so vnto her labors some part of the night,
Hard at their distaffe doth she hold her maids by candlelight
To keepe her chast, and that her children wel maintaine she
(might.

In which verses it appeareth, that he spake not of base women, but of a Mistres of a house, which had béene accusto­med to be attended on, by many seruants: & so much worth (it séemeth) that this arte hath in it, as it hath not only béen ascribd or attributed to priuat huswiues, but to princely La­dies, as appeareth by these verses of Penelope, the wyfe of wise V [...]sses.

Come [...]a nobil Greca ch' a'le tele sue
S [...]nio la notte, quanto ilgiorno accre [...]be.
As did that noble Grecian dame that bated in the night.
As much as she had wouen by day to bleare her sutors sight.

And Virgil of Circes which was not onely a woman and a Quéene, but a Goddesse, wrote thus:

Arguto coniux percurrit pectine telas,
Vpon a wel deuided loome thy wife doth weaue apace.

In which example he followed Homer, who not onely Homer [...] his Odiss. brought Penelope and Circes in ye number of women wea­uers, but placed the daughter of Alcinoe the King of Phaea­ces amongst them: and albeit the Greekes obserued not so much decorum as was necessarie. The Romaines yet that were both greater & more curious obseruers of such things, forb [...]d the Mistres of the house all other works▪ the Kitchin Cookery and such like, but graunted they might weaue [...] an [...] [Page] that not without great commendation: and in this kinde of work was Lucretia often found, by Collatyn, by Brutus, and Tarquinius when they were enamored of her.

But to returne to the Mistres of the house or huswife, who béeing a fortunat mother of Children, the further off she is front nobles or estate, so much the lesse she may dys­daine to busie herselfe in such things, as carie meaner worth in showe, and lesse workmanship then weauing. And heerin séemeth it, that in some sort she shall aduaunce herselfe, and come into comparison with her good man: for she not onely gathereth but encreaseth, with the profitt of those labours. Neuerthelesse, considering that those benefits are small, and but of slender reckoning we shall doo well to say, that it be­longeth to the wife to kéepe, and to the husband to encrease. But forasmuch as things preserued, may the better be dis­posed, if they be carefully prouided for, and ordered, the good Huswife ought aboue all things to be dilligent héerein. For if she reserue not things confusedly but seperat, and placd in sonder, according to their quallitie, and the opportunitie of vsing them, she shall alwaies haue them ready and at hand, and euermore know, what she hath, and what shee wants: and if there can be no similitude inferd to this purpose wor­thie of consideration, most notable is that of Memory, which A [...] Memo­ratiua. laying vp, preseruing and imprinting in it selfe al the Ima­ges and formes of visible & intelligible things, could not vt­ter them in time conuenient and dispose them to the tongue and penne, vnlesse it had so ordered, and oftentimes recoun­ted them, as without that the memory it selfe coulde scarce containe them, of so great efficacye and force is order, but it hath also no lesse grace and comlines, in beautifying and a­dorning things, as hee that dooth acquaint his studie with the vse of Poetry, verie easilie perceineth. For Poesy hath neuer more spirit added to it, with the greatest arte & indu­strie, then when it is set forth with wel disposed Epythetons, and significāt termes, yt the one ordered with the other, may altogeather consent, or mustcally aunswer crosse, as hath [Page 22] arteficially beene vsed by Orators, which though it be plea­sant to the eare, is painfull to the memorie: and be it so, as As by repe­tition or maintai­ning of a point as Mufitions terme it. some Philosophers haue saide, that the forme or fashion of the World, is none other then an order, cōparing little things with great, we may well report, that the forme of a house is the order, and the reformation of the house or familie, none other then a second setting it in order, wherein I purpose to speake somewhat: which albeit of it selfe it beare no great semblance of credit, yet for the order & clenlines it deserues so much, as hauing seene it without disdayne, and diuerstie admiring it, may without impeach (I hope) bee profitablye recounted.

Returning from Paris, and comming by Beona, I en­tred the Hospitall, wherein, though euery Roome I sawe my thought, was worthy commendations, yet was the Kyt­chen to be wondred at (which as it was not vsd continually) so did I find it passing neat, and queintly tricked vp, as if it were the Chamber of a new maryed Bride: therein saw I such a quantitie of necessary implements, not onely for the vse of the Kitchin, but seruice of the Table, so discréetly or­dered, and with such proportion, the Pewter so set vppe, the Brasse▪ and yron works so bright, as when the Snn shyned on the wyndowes there vpon, cast such a delicat reflection, as it might (me thought) be well resembled to the Armorie of Venice, and of other places, méeter to be spoken of, then shewed to straungers: and if Gnato, that disposd the house­hold of his glorious Sig, Capitano, in manner of an Armie, [...]ad but had a sight of this, I am well assured he would haue compared it, to some higher matter then an Armorie.

But returning now from keeping to encreasing, it may be doubted whether this arte of encreasing be housekeeping wholy, or but a member, part, or Minister therof. If a Mi­nister, because it ministreth the Instruments, as the Armo­rer doth the curasse and the Helmet to the Souldiour: and that ministreth the subiect or the matter, as ye Shipwright that receiues the Tymber of him that fells and seazoneth [Page] the wood. It is very manifest, that the art of housekéeping, and getting, is not all one: for the one it behooueth to pro­uide, the other to put in vre ye things prouided: now it rests to be considered, whether to get, be a forme or part of house­keeping, or vtterly disioyned and [...]straunged from it. The facultie of getting, may be Natural and not Naturall: Natu­ral I call that, which gesseth the liuing out of these thinges that hath beene brought forth by Nature, for mans vse and [...]: and forasmuch as nothing is more naturall then nourishment, wh [...] the Mother giueth to her Childe, [...] naturall aboue the [...] [...] that [...] [...] be, that is had and raised of the fruits of the earth, considering that the Earth is the naturall and vniuersall Mother [...] all: Na­turall also are the [...] [...]ents and [...] that we receiue of Beastes, and of the game that may be made of them, which is distinguished [...] [...]o that distination of Beastes; for of Beastes, some are tame and com [...] [...], othersome, solt­tary and vntamed: of those are flocks, Heards and droues compact, of which no le [...] profit may bee raised.: these they make their game, to [...]: and ma [...] of th [...]serue for su­stentation and [...] of the life. It also seemes yt Nature hath engendred, not [...] ▪ bruite Beastes [...] the [...]ice of Man, but hath framed [...] ▪ yt are apt to obey [...] those whom also she hath framed to co [...]d. So th [...] whatsoe­uer is gotten or obtained in the warres béeing [...]st, the same may also bee tearmed naturall gayne: and hee [...] will. I not conceale what Theucidides hath obse [...]d in the pro [...] of his Historie. That in the olde t [...], praying or [...] [...]e was not to be blamed. Wherupon we reade, that one asked another, whether he were a [...] or a [...] [...] though it were no iniurie to aske him such a question. To which [...]se or reason, Virgill hauing regard, brought in Numa [...] thus.

Caniciem galea, premimus semperque recentes
Conuectare iuuat praedas & viuere rapto.
[Page 23] We hide our gray haires with our helmets, liking euermore
To liue vpō the spoile, & waft our praies frō shore to shore

And that may well be called Naturall gayne, which the Knights of Malta haue against the Barbarians and Turkes. E [...]ry of which naturall gaines, it séemeth necessarye that Housekeepers haue knowledge of, but especiall of Husban­drie: and he that mingleth and exchaungeth the profit of all those things togeather which he gathereth, shoulde happilie therin do nothing vnworthye or against ye title of good Hus­bandry. For that trade or science is at this day co [...]onlie called Merchandize, which is of many sorts, and to be taken many waies, but that is the most iust, which taketh thence where things [...]perfluously abounde, and transporteth them thither where is want and scarcity of those comodities, and in their stedd returneth other things, whereof there is some dearth, because it growes not other-where so plentiously: and heereof speaketh Tully in his Booke of Offices, that Merchandize if they were small were base, and but of vile account, if great, not much to be dislyked: but hys wordes in that place are to b [...] taken as the saying of a Stoyck, that too seuerely speaketh of those matters. For in other places where hee ar [...]eth like a Cittizen, hee commendeth and defendeth Merchaunts, and the manner of theyr trade, and calleth that order of the Publicans most honest, who had the whole reuenewes of the Common wealth [...] their pos­sessions, besides those things whereof th [...] [...] tr [...] ­fique, and the trade of Merchandize. But as that fo [...]me of Merchandize is iust and honest, which traffique their com­modities to Countreys where they want, and thereof make their best, so most vniust is that, which hauing bargained for the commodities of a Countrey, retaileth them, or selleth them againe in the same place, watching the opportunitie and time wh [...] they may vtter them vnto theyr most aduan­tage: Howbeit, y care of opportunity to sell what is a mans owne, and what he gathereth of his owne Reuenewes, and [Page] possessions, and of his flocks, heards and such like, séeme not either inconuenient or dishonest in a Husbandman.

And so much touching naturall gayne, necessary for a hous­kéeper, wherin he shall much aduauntage him and hys, if hée be but indifferently instructed, not onely of the nature, good­nes, and value of all things that are vsed to be exchaunged: and are from place to place transported, but also in what Prouince, Shyre or Countrey grow yt better, and in which the worse, and where in most aboundaunce, where in lesse, where they are helde déerest, and where best cheape. So should he also be enformed of the fashions, sleights, and diffi­culties of transporting them, and of the times and seazons wher in they be carryed or recarried most coueniently, and of the league and traffique that one Cittie hath with ano­ther, one Prouince or Countrey with another, and of the times wherein such merchandize are solde, which for ye most part are called Fayres or Marts.

Notwithstanding, the Housekeeper ought to handle these things like a Husbandman, and not like a Merchaunt, for where the Merchant preposeth for his principall intent, the encrease and multiplying of his stock, which is doone by traf­fique and exchaunge, by meanes wherof, he many times for­gets his house, his Children and his Wife, and trauails into forren Countreys, leauing the care of them, to Factors, Friends, and Seruaunts. The care of the Husbandman or Housekeeper, doth reape his profite of exchaunge bya se­cond obiect, directed vnto houshold gouernment, and so much time and labour onely hee bestoweth, as his chiefe and prin­cipall care may not therby be anoyd or hyndered. Moreouer, euen as euery arte dooth infinitly séeke the end it purposeth, as the honest Phisitian will heale as much as hee can, the Architect erect and builde with as much excelency and per­fection as he can, so the Merchant séemes to make his bene­fit of things vnto their vttermost. But the Housekéeper hath his desires of riches certaine and determinat, for riches are none other then a multitude of Instruments that ap­pertaine [Page 24] vnto familiar or publique cares, but the instru­ments of some arts, are not infinit, either in number or in greatnes, for if they were infinit in number, the Artificer could not know them: for as much as this word infinit, as touching the infinitiue, is not comprehended in our vnder­standing, vnlesse it be in things that cannot well be handled, managed, or lifted for their greatnes.

And as in euery arte, the instruments should be propor­tioned and fit, as well for him that worketh, as the thing that shall be wrought withall (for in a Shyppe, the Rudder ought to be no lesse then may suffise to direct hys course, nor greater, then the Mariner can guide, and in grauing or cutting, the Chizzell should not be so ponderous and heauie, as the Mason may not lift, nor so light, as hee cannot with much a doe pierce the out side of the Marble) euen so shoulde riches be proportioned and limitted vnto the Housekeeper, and the family that he is charged withall, that he may in­herite and possesse so much and no more then shall suffise, not onely for hys liuing, but hys liuing well, according to his estate, condition of time, and customes of the Citty wher he liueth and inhabiteth. And where Crassus sayd hee was not rych, that was not able to maintaine an Armie, he hap­pely had reference vnto those ryches which are néedfull for a Prince or Ruler within the Cittie of Rome, which were too too much and immoderate for any one in Praeneste or in Nola little Townes in Italie, and happely superfluous for many men in Rome. For to muster and maintaine Armies, becommeth Kings, Tyrants, and other absolute Princes, and is not necessary or fitting for a Cittizen, inhabiting a place of liberty, who indéede ought not to excéede the rest in any such condition, as may interrupt or spoyle that good pro portion, that is requisit and meet in the vniting of frée men. For as the nose vppon some mans face, growing by disorder or dysdyet, more then Nature made it, may become so grosse and large in time, as it may be no more resembled or repu­ted for a Nose, so a Cittizen, of any Cittie whatsoeuer, excée­ding [Page] others in his riches, either miserably gotten, or encrea­sed by wrong, is no more a Cittizen be hee what or who hée will, for riches are to be considered alwaies in respect of him that doth possesse them. Nor can wee well prescribe howe much they ought to be, but this we may soly and safelie say, that they ought to be apportioned to him that hath them, who ought so much, and no more to encrease them, then may be after wards deuided and bequeathed amongst his Chil­dren, to liue well and [...]illy withall. Neither resteth anie more for me to say, conserning this naturall gaine conueni­ent for a Housekeeper, which may as properly bee taken and deriued from the Earth, Heards, and Flocks; as by the trade of merchandize, warre, or hunting: wherfore we may call to mind that there were many Romains called from the Plough and Carte, to be Magistrates, and mightie [...] in Princes Courts, and afterwardes disobed of their Purple, returned to the Plough: But because the Husbandman and carefull housekéeper, should haue regarde vnto his health, not as a Phisition, but as a father of a familie, he ought most willingly to apply himselfe vnto that kind of gayne, which most preserueth health, wherein he shalt also exercise him­selfe, and sée his famine and seruaunts busied, in those exerci­ses of the bodie, which not defiling or defacing him, are great helps to health: wherunto Idlenes and super fluous ease, are enemies profest. Let him therfore loue to hunt, and to make more reckoning of those games which are gotte and followed with paine and sweat, then those that through de­ceit, and vnconsorted with some labor, haue béene, and yet are vsed to be gotten.

But sithence we haue reasoned of that manner of gayne that is naturall, it shall not bee vnnecessary, that wee some­what manifest the other, which is vnnaturall, although it be impertinent to Husbandry and housekeeping. This wee deuide into two formes or kindes. The one is called Ex­chaunge, the other Vsurie, and it is not naturall, because it doth peruert the proper vse, forasmuch as mony was founde [Page 25] out, and vsed (a while) to make equall ye inequality of things exchangd, and to eltimat and measure prices, not for that it ought to be exchangd, for of mony (as touching the mettall) we haue no néede, neither receiue we any benefit thereof in our priuat or our ciuil life, but in respert of making euē ine­qualities, & iustly measuring ye worth & value of each thing, it is thought both necessary and commodious. When money then is changed into mony, not directed & imployed to some other vse, it is vsed beyond the proper vse, and so abused. In which exchange Nature is not imitated, for as well may exchaunge that doth multiply or accumulat infinite and ex­cessiue proūts, be said to haue no end, or absolute determina­tion as Usurie, but Nature alwaies worketh to a certaine set and determinat ende, and to a certaine ende doo all those meanes and members work, that are ordaind to be stirrers vp of Nature.

I haue told you then that Exchange may multiply in profits infinitly, because Number as touching Number, not aplied to materiall things, groweth to be infinit, and in ex­change is not considered to be otherwise applied. But for thy better vnderstanding what we say, know that Number is reputed, either according to the formall or materiall béeing. Formall number is a collection of a summe, not ap­plied to things numbred. Materiall number, is a summarie collection of things numbred. Formall number, may infinit­ly encrease, but the Materiall cannot multiply so much: for albeit in respect of the partition or deuision, it séeme that it may multiply in effect, notwithstanding, since deuision hath no place in that we speake of, we may saie, it cannot infinit­lie encrease, because things of all kinds that cannot be deui­ded, are of number certaine. This deuision being thus consi­dered, much more may riches multiply that consist in bare money, then that which consisteth in thinges measured and numbred from money: for albeit the number of mony bee not formall, as that which is applyed to Gold, and Siluer, more easily may a great quantity of mony be heaped vp and [Page] gathered togeather, then anie other thing, and so by coue­tous desire to become infinit. Yet betwixt Exchange & Vsu­ry there is some difference. Exchange may be retained, not only for the custome it hath taken and obtained in many fa­mous Citties, but for the force of reason yt it séemes to beare. For exchange is vsed in stéede of our transporting and con­ueighing Corne from place to place, which béeing hardlie to be doone without great discomoditie, and perill, it is reason that the party that exchaungeth may haue some sufficient gaine allowed. Besides the value of mony of some Country coigne, béeing variable and often to be changd, as wel by the Lawes and institutions, as for the sundry worth, weight, and finenes of the Golde and Syluer, the Reall exchange of mony, might bee in some sort reduced vnto naturall indu­strie, wherewith Vsury can neuer be acquainted, béeing an arteficiall gayne, a corrupter of a Common wealth, a diso­beyer of the Lawes of God, a Rebell and resister of all hu­maine orders, iniurious to manie, the spoile of those that most vphold it, onely profitable to it selfe, more infectious Leuit. Pecuniam tuam non dabis fratri tuo ad vsu­ram & fru­gum super­abundantiā non exiges. Dauid. Qui habi­tabit &c. qui pecuni­am non de­derit ad vsuram. Luk Date mu­tuum nec inde spe­ [...]tes. then the pestilence, & consorted with so many perilous euils, as are hard or neuer to be cured. Euery or either of which, hauing not onely béene condemned by Aristotle, but vtterly inhibited by the olde and new Law, who so considereth not, let him read what verdict Dante hath giuen of it in these verses, who to proue Usury a sinne, cyteth a sentence put by Aristotle, in his booke De Phisicis.

E'setuben la tua fisica note,
Tu trouerai non dopo molte carte,
Che la'rte vostra quella, quanto pote
Segue; come'l maestro fail discente;
Si che vostra arte a Dio quasi e Nipote.
Da questi due; se tu tirechi a mente,
Le Genesi dal principio conuene
Prender sua vita, & auanzar la gente:
E'perche l' vsurier altra via tene
Per se Natura & per la sua seguace
Dispregia, poich'in altro pon la spent
[Page 26] If Aristotles phisicks thou peruse,
Not turning many leaues thou there shalt finde
That arte doth Nature imitate and vse
As pupils pleasing of their Tutors minde,
So that our arte is Neipce to God by kind.
Of this and that, if thou remember it
In Genesis euen God himselfe doth say,
Quod ab initio oportuit
Humanum genus vitam sumere
Et vnum alium excedere
Per artem et naturam. Now because
The Vsurers doo wander otherwise
Without regard of God or godly lawes
Nature and arte (her follower) they despise,
For in their Gold their hope beguiled lies.

It is also said by Aristotle, that God is annimal sempiter­num & optimum, of whom both heauen and Nature doe de­pend, which nature is imitated of our arte as much as may be, for arte depending vpon Nature, shee is as it were her Childe, and per consequence Gods Neipce. So that offending Nature we immediatly offende God, and he that offendeth arte offendeth God touching the hurt or annoyaunce of Na­ture, but the Usurer offendeth Nature, for it is not naturall that money should beget or bring forth money without cor­ruption, since Nature willeth that the corruption of one bee the generation of another, and it offendeth God because it doth not exercise the arte according as God commaunded the first man, when he saide, in the sweate of thy face thou shalt eate thy bread, and it is not artificiall that money shoulde bring forth money, as the Usurers wold haue it, which put­teth the vse in the thing. With those verses therefore, mee thinkes not onely our discourse of naturall and not naturall gaine may be concluded and determined, but whatsoeuer els we purposed at first concerning Husbandry and kéeping of a house, which you haue now séene howe it turneth and re­turneth [Page] to the wife, how to the Children, howe to the Ser­uaunts, and howe to the conuerting and imploying, as also the encrease of whatsoeuer substaunce or possession, which were indeede those Fiue especial points whereof we promi­sed to speake and to entreate perticulerly.

But for it is my chiefe desire that thou record effectually those things whereof I haue aduised thee, and that in so pre­cise a sort as thou héereafter not forget them, I will bestowe them and bequeath thee them in writing, that by often rea­ding and perusing them, thou maist not onely learne them but throughly resolue to imitate and practise them: for prac­tise is the end imposed to all instructions of humaine life.

This was my Fathers discourse, gathered by him into a little Booke, which I so often red, and studiously obserued, as you néede not meruaile that I haue so perfectly reported and repeated them. Now would I be silent, to the ende that my discourse should not be made in vaine, for if anie thing be said that in your opinion may be bettered, let it not I praye seeme troublesome vnto you, thereof to certefie mee and a­mend it.

Sir (quoth I) for anie thing that I can sée, your father hath not onely well and learnedly instructed you in all hys institutions, but you (it séemes) haue exercised them as in­dustriously. This onely could I wish, that somewhat more might be annext to that which he hath vttered, and that per­ticulerly is this. Whether houshold care or housholde go­gernment be all one, if more then one, then being more then one, whither then they be the knowledge & the labor of one or more. You say true (quoth hée) and héerein onely fayled his discourse, for the gouernment of priuate houses and of Princes Courtes are different, but I can tell you why hée spake not of it, because the care of Princes Halles belongeth not to priuate men.

Trust me Sir (quoth I) you are of swifter vnderstan­ding & more eloquent deuise then I expected. But since wee sound that there is difference in houshold gouernments. It [Page 27] rests that we consider, whether they be discrepant in forme or greatnes. Forasmuch as if they onely differ in the great­nes, then euen as the consideration of the forme of a Prin­ces Pallace and a poore mans Cottage, appertaines to one and the selfesame Mason, Carpenter or Architect, so shoulde the care of either houskéeping be one. But thereunto he aun­swered thus, though I were swift of conceit at first, yet now (I doubt) I shall not be so prompt to find, or so iudicial as to censure that which you propose. Howbeit, I can tell you this, that if my hart or happe would giue mee leaue to kéepe a great yet (priuate) house, I meane not a little Court, I be­léeue that priuate house of mine, should farre surpasse that Pallace for a Prince, which onely differeth from the other in the pompe and greatnes.

You are in the right (quoth I) for as a Prince is still to be distinguished from a priuate man, by forme: and as the forme of their commaundements is distinguished, so are the gouernments of Princes and of priuate men distinguished, for when it happeneth that in comparison of number, the houshold of a poore Prince is as little as a rich mans fami­lie, yet are they to bee gouerned diuersly: neuerthelesse, if that be true which is approoued by Socrates to Aristopha­nes In conuiuio Platonis. That to compose or wryte a Tra­gedie and Comedie, bee bothe the worke of one, albeit they onely differ not in forme, but are opposit and contrarie: it should consequentlie be as true, that a good Steward know­eth as well how to gouerne a Princes houshold, as a priuate familie, for the manner and facultie of eyther is alike: and I haue red in a pamphilet that is dedicated to Aristotle, that their gouernments or dispensations of a house, are deuided into foure parts, Kingly, Lordly, Ciuill, and Priuate, Regia, satrapicia, Ciuilis & priuata, which distinction I reprooue not. For albeit wee differ farre from those of elder times, yet I see the gouernments of those houses of the Uiceroyes of Na­ples, Sicilie and the Gouernour of Mylain, are as corespon­dent for proportion to those Royall houses as were of olde [Page] custome of the Dukes and other noble men: which propor­tion also may be found amongst the houses of the Dukes of Reggio, a Cittie in Lomberdy There is Modone & Modona. Modone a Cittie in Greece. Modona a Cittie in Italie. Sauoy, Ferrara and Mantua, and those Gouernours of Asti, Vercellis, Madona, Reggio, & Monteferrato. But I cannot sée yet, how the gouernments of a ciuill and a priuate house doo differ, vnlesse he call his gouernment Ciuill, that is busi­ed and employed in Office, for the honours of a Common wealth, and that mans priuate, that is segregat and not cal­led to office, so that wholy hee applies him to his housholde care. And that this is his distinction may wee gather by the wordes that he hath written. That priuate gouernment is the least, and yet rayseth profit of those things which are de­spised and dispraysed of the others, which others are to bee intended, those ciuill Gouernours or officers, that being vsd and exercised in affaires of more estate, dislike of manie thinges, which neuerthelesse are entertaind and praised of priuate men. But for it may percase come so to passe, that some of your sonnes following the example of theyr Uncle, may endeuour and apply themselues to serue in Court, I could wysh that somewhat might be said concerning that so necessary care of gouerning a Princes house, but nowe it is so late, and we haue set so long, that time and good manners will hardly giue vs leaue, albeit somethings vnspoken of might be reuiued and produced, whereof hee shall haue time and ease to learne and to collect enough, part out of Aristo­tles Bookes, and the rest by his owne experience in Court.

Therewithall the Gentleman séeming to bee satis-fied with my speeches, arose and accompanied me vnworthy, to the Chamber that the while had béene prouided for me, and there in a very soft bed I bequeathed my bones to rest.

Me mea sic tua te Caetera mortis erunt.
T. K.

[Page] A dairie Booke for good huswiues.

Very profitable and pleasaunt for the making and keeping of white meates.

AT LONDON Printed for Thomas Hacket, and are to be solde at his shoppe in Lomberde streete, vnder the signe of the Popes head, 1588.

❧ To all good Huswiues dwelling within the Countie of South-hamshire, Bartholomew Dowe, wisheth vnto them all heere in this life, health, wealth, and prosperitie: and heereafter in the life to come ioyfull and endles felicitie.

FOrasmuch as of late, an honest Matron a South-hamshyre VVoman, was desirous to haue con­ference with me beeing a Suffolke man, to heere my mind concerning making of whitmeate, after the manner vsage and fashion of Suffolke where I was borne, albeit for forty and seauen yeeres passed, I haue beene and still am inhabiting & resident in this Coun­tie of South-ham. For that mine aunswers to her de­maundes and questions therein, was so well liked of by them that were present at that time, and so accep­tably taken among them all, that they very earnestlie required mee, to reduce all our communication then had betweene vs into wryting, to the end they might heere it the oftner, and theyr neyghbours myght also be pertakers thereof as well as they: which at theyr instant request I haue heere taken vppon mee to doo, more homelie then seemely to satis-fie their desires, & also to auoyde idlenes, which folkes in age bee sundry times much giuen vnto. And because also I am vn­apt to doo any good labour or worke, and nowe none other thing in effect can doe but onely write, I haue written this simple quire rudely penned, and dedicate the same generally to all good huswiues in South-hamshyre. Humbly desiring thē all to beare me good will for my dooing thereof, seeing willingly I will de­serue, [Page] none other at their handes. Fully trusting, that the mirth and recreation that they shall take, by the reading or hearing thereof: shal minister occasion of further profit to encrease amongst them. And to withdraw them from dumpes and sullen fantasies (be­ing a cōmon disease amongst women) to bee the quic­ker spirited, the better and the liuelier occupied, and the lustier stomaked in all their busines, as well in white­meate making, as in all other their huswifelye doo­ings. And thus wyshing all them to beare wyth my weakenes, and to accept my good will, in this my rude dooing. I beseeche almighty God sende them heere good life and a ioyfull ending.

All yours. B. D.

❧ A Dialogue betweene a South-[hamshyre woman and a Suffolcke man concerning making of whitmeate.

The Woman.

SIR, as I heard of late, ye haue had much conference and talke with some honest wo­men of this Countrey, concerning the ma­king of Butter & Chéese after your Coun­trey sort: and for that your communicati­on liked them well, by the report they make thereof, I beséeche you I may bee so bolde to aske you some questions, concerning the circumstaunces of the same. And first of all I pray you shew me, if euer you vsed to make Chéese your selfe, séeing yée séeme so well to bee experienced therein.

The Man.

Neuer in my life good wife, I haue made any, but I haue in my youth in the Country where I was borne, séene much made: for in the very house or grange that I was borne in, my Mother and her maides made all the Whitmeate of seauenscore Kine and odde.

The Woman.

The number of Kine was great that you speake of, and therefore I pray you shew me how many maides your mo­ther did then kéepe to milke them?

The Man.

Not aboue seauen maides, for euery score of Kine a maid.

The Woman.

Then I thinke they were very long in dooing, for eight or nine Kine is enough for one maide seruaunt to milke in this Countrie, if they milked so many Kine euery of them: what time came they to Church vpon the holy day?

[Page] The Man.

To the beginning of diuine seruice, as well as they that dwelt néere vnto the Church. And yet they had a long mile thether, and soule waies.

The Woman.

Then your Mother and her Maides were very earelie or rathe vp in the morning about their busines.

The Man.

She and her Maides were euery daie in the yéere Win­ter and Sommer vp out of their beddes, before foure of the clocke euery morning.

The Woman.

I perceiue by your saying, they bee better and earlier ry­sers in your Countrey then they be héere. I pray you nowe shewe or declare vnto me, the order of the milke houses in your Countrey. What manner of Presses they vse to presse their Chéeses in, their Chernes for Butter, what buckets or pailes they vse to milke in, their Chéese fates to make their Chéeses in, or to put their Milke a running in, and Trowes to powder and salt their Chéeses in.

The Man.

All these things I wil shew you, as néere as I can remem­ber. First the Milke house (if ye milke manie Kine) ought to be made the more large, with shelues of plankes rounde about the house, as iust as may be to the walles of the house, of thrée foote breadth, breast-high, to sette your Milke and Creame vpon, in Earthen pannes that be but small, made flat in the bottome, shallow, and glased within, as high as the Milke shall stand in them. They bee best to sette your Milke in. The windowes of the Milk-house where ye Milk doth stand, to be made vrrie ample and large, all a long on the North or East side of the same house, and specially for [Page] the Sommer time, to the ende that the colde ayre may take effect in the Milke, for thereby ye shall gather much yt more Creame. Your Chéese presses that bee made to presse your Chéeses with a stone or other waight, be not good, for com­monly the Chéeses pressed with them, be more thicke on the one side then on the other, but the best presses for Chéeses be made of a thick planck, with two péeces of Timber stan­ding vpright with long mortesses in them, with a péece of Tymber also brodest in the middest, and narrowe at bothe endes. And that shalbe lifted vp and downe within the sayd Mortesses, with two yron pinnes, and driuen with a Mal­let and wedges of Tymber. In this kinde of presse, ye may as well presse foure or fiue Chéeses at once, as one. Your Chernes for Butter ought to be made higher, and broader in the bottome then ye vse to haue them in this Countrey. Your Cherne staffe in the lower ende thereof, to haue two peeces of seasoned Timber of Ashe, fast sette on like vnto a Crosse, of a hand breadth or more, flatte, with two or three holes bored in the endes of the same two crosse péeces. With these manner of Cherne staues, you shal more easily cherne your Butter, then with your cherne staues made of a round boorde full of holes, and neuer haue anie small chips in your Butter, as yee may sundrie times haue with your owne fa­shioned staues: whether yée milke in buckets or pailes it is no matter so they be cléene kept. Prouided alwaies that yée suffer not your Maides to haue their buckets or payles to milke in, to haue a furred coate at Midsommer, for of al thē that delight in clenlines it will not be well liked of. Chéese fats that be made in Suffolke, be farre stronger, and much better to all effects then those that bee made in this Coun­trey: for although ye Turners heere be shewed any of those fats made in Suffolke (as I my selfe haue doone) yet vn­doubtedlie they cannot make the like. The Trowes to salt or powder Cheese in, in Suffolke, be but planckes of a con­uenient thicknes, set brest high, that be not past thrée inches and a halfe déepe, to salt their Chéeses in.

[Page] The Woman.

I pray you shew me whether the women in your Coun­trey, after they haue flit or skymmed their euening Milke in the morning, doo heate all the sams euening Milke ouer the fire of a measurable heate, or els doo they heate parte of the same milke verie hote, to the intent that by the heate thereof, the reit of the euening Milke may haue heate e­nough to be put a running.

The Man.

The best way in that point is, to heate all your euening Milke ouer the fire somewhat more then luke-warme, and to straine your morrowe Milke as fast as it can be brought in from the Kine and so strained, put them togeather a run­ning: for if ye should heate some of the euening milke verie hote to giue heate to the rest, ye shall haue losse and hinde­raunce thereby, for by meane thereof, ye shall make yt lesse Cheese, & the Cheese so made will euer after be bad Chéese, drie and toughe. For note ye this, the hoter the Milke is put a running, the sooner it will be runne, but if it bee ouer hote, the Chéese will be the worse and the lesse. And if it bée put a running too colde, it will be much the longer before it come or be full runne, and the Chéese so made, though it bee good Cheese, it wil euer be white, therefore the maker of the Chéese must vse her discretion therein.

The Woman.

Whether doo ye thinke it better to knede the Curdes af­ter they be runne, in a bole or pan, or to breake them but in the Cheese fate?

The Man.

The best waie is to breake them very small onely in the Chéese fate, while they be warme, and to vse such dilligence therein, that none of the Curdes be pressed into the Cheese [Page] fate vnbroken smal, for if they be, in that place of the Chéese it will euer be wemmie or faultie. The Curdes béeing so well and small broken, presse them downe often with your handes holden a crosse, vntill the Chéese fate bee more then filled, and highest in the middest of the fate, and let this bée doone ouer a Tub, Couell or Fate, wherinto the whey may runne from the Curdes. When the Curdes be broken into an other vessell, the chéefe part of the buttrines or fatnesse thereof, remaineth in the vessell, and so the Chéese by that meanes much the worse drie and leane meate. And moreo­uer then that, an other thing by the way, ye must well re­member, for it is well worthy, when the Milke is wel run, then breake your Curds, and with a boledish spéedily with­draw the whey from the Curdes, and let it runne through a tempse with a bottome of hayre, standing vppon a Milke Ladder, ouer the vessell that is prepared to receiue ye whey, and so with all conuenient spéede that may be, make your Chéese, and presse it without any clothe in the Chéese fate at the first pressing. For marke well this, after the Curdes as a foresaid be stirred, if you, or your maide that you doe put in trust to make your Chéese, doo then goe about other busines and leaueth the Curdes lying still in the whey till they be cold before the Chéese be made, which practise is ought times in vse héere in South-hamptonshire, of the Curdes so vsed I doo assure you, yee shall neuer haue good Cheese, albeit the Milke whereof it were made were neuer flit or scimmed, for that Chéese so made, will bee of this pro­pertie, the longer ye kéepe it, the dryer meate it will bee, and especially in the midst of the Chéese dryest of all, for the moystest part of the Chéese will be néere the rinde, or vtter part thereof.

The Woman.

I like your sayings heerein very well, but I pray you if one kéepe manie Kine, and so hath great plentie of Milke, is it not néedefull to haue a Chimney within the house where the white meate is made.

[Page] The Man.

It is both néedefull and also necessarie in verie déede not onelie for the heating of the Milke, but also to haue warme water readie to scalde the milke pa [...]es, and to washe the Cherne, other vessels and cheese clothes, for after the Milk­pannes in the morning bee emptie, they must bee well scal­ded; cléene wiped and so set vp. And in the afternoone, before Milke be put in them, they must be set with cold water a while before.

The woman.

Howe many times suppose yée the Chéeses must bee clothed, after they be put into the presse.

The Man.

At the least three or foure times: and if yee will haue your Chéeses for sale, or for your owne Table to séeme fine to the eye, ye must then after the second clothing, clothe thē afterwards with finer clothes, and ye may not suffer your Chéese to lie long in one clothe vnremooued, for if yée doo, especiallie in the first or second cloth, your Cheese will be as sweete as a Childe that hath lien long be pist in his clothes. And that euill sauour so taken, will neuer after out of the Chéeses, though ye kéepe them vntill they be very hard.

The woman.

I thinke your sayings heerein to be true, but considering that you said at the first of our conference therein: yt Maide Seruaunts in your Countrey coulde milke so many Kine a péece, morning and euening, contrary to the order and vsage of this Countrey, I woulde faine héere some part of your minde howe they vse themselues therein, to the ende our Maides héere may doo the like.

[Page] The man.

As neere as I can I will satisfie your request heerein. They that haue great dairies, or doo keepe manie Kine to the paile in Suffolke, they prouide them Maides that bee of a conuenient age and strength, that be liuelie & lustie wen­ches, willing to worke, and such as thinke no paine too déere for them, where as I see in this Countrie, some setts yonge girles and boies to milke their Kine, that lacke strength to doo it. And mante others, because they may get them wo­men Seruaunts the better cheape, or for small wages as it should seeme, they take dame drowsie, and dame slowbacke to their Seruaunts, who vse to sitte a milking vppon their tailes, their legs lying a long vpon the ground, their heades leaning against the flancks of the Kine, and there they catch a napp while they might haue milked diuers of their Kine, and then th [...]e scant well waked, and [...] Kine not [...] [...],

The woman.

[...] [...] well borne awaie of you, but as I doo heare [...] Countrey, they vse there to milk the two fore teats of their Kine, and the two hinder teates togeather, where as heere they doo milke the side teates togeather, which I and others doo take to be as good a waie as yours.

The Man.

You maie according to your fantasie thinke what yee list therein, but for true proofe thereof, if you cause some of your Kine to be milked after my Countreie sort heereafter con­tinuallie, if they then that be so milked; giue not the more Milke, the better milke, and continue milche the longer, then credite me not héereafter. And furthermore marke, that if your Milke be brought in from milking, as flatte as water in a Bucket, then surelie your Maides haue verie slacklie and slothfullie milked your Kine, for if the Kine bee [Page] well milked as they ought to be, the Milke then will haue a great frothe or fobbe vpon it, and that commeth of quicke and hastie milking when it is doone with force. And it is profitable to haue your Kine so milked, for so yee shall haue the thicker Milke and the more Creame.

The woman.

Wherefore doe ye will the Milke to be set so high from the grounde, as ye did at the beginning speake of.

The Man.

For preseruation and safe keeping of the Milke and Creame, for if the pannes with Milk, or pots with Creame, were sette vpon (or neere vnto) the ground, then they were the more readie for euerie dogge and Cat that shoulde come into the house, and also in some Countrey, a [...] Bedfordshire and the Isle of Elie for Snakes, that should [...] [...] & con­sume the same. And principallie it is verie fit and, necessary that Milke and Creame be so ordered, sette and placed, as Cattes cannot in anie wise come therebie, for th [...] will not onelie lappe and eate of the Milke and Creame, but when they haue full fedde thereof, they will oft times snuffe: and cast out of their heads bloode plentiouslie all abroad vpon the Milke and Creame. And an other thing that much worse is and more odious, they may some times happen to leaue behind them where they féede, some of the haires that doo growe vppon their tongues, which be well nigh as euill as poison, for whosoeuer doth eate or drink one of those haires, it will not tarrie in the bodie, but where it commeth foorth, it breedeth a greeuous and painefull sore.

The woman.

If Cats haue haires growing vpon their tongues, it is more then euer I heard of before.

[Page] The Man.

I doubt not but ye wil beleeue your owne eies, for they be too necessarie witnesses to be beléeued, open you ye mouth of one of them olde or yong, and then ye shall well apper­ceiue them, for they bee well nigh as stiffe as bristles, and these haires once in a yeere, they cast from them, as some doe holde opinion.

The woman.

I will regard Cattes the worse whilst I liue, hearing thus much euill of them, but all this while wee haue had no talke of making of Butter, wherein I pray you I may also heere some part of your minde.

The Man.

As touching that matter, ye must see that ye haue plen­tie of pots to put your Creame in, so that alwaies it is verie apt and necessarie that some be emptie, well washt & brea­thed whiles other be occupied. In Sommer time before you doo Cherne, it is meete the Cherne be washt, and sette with colde water in it a good depth. And contrariewise, in Winter beeing colde weather, to season your Cherne with hote liquour: and when your Seruaunt is cherning of But­ter, he or she, must still cherne till Butter be come, for if they haue cherned by the space of halfe an howre or more, and doo let it stand still but a verie little while, all their la­bour before bestowed is lost, and after the Butter is cherned cause your Cherne to be dilligently washt and sette vp, lea­ning vpon the place where the Milke standeth, with the bottome vpwarde, to the ende it may take aire and breath enough, to cause it to remaine drie and swéete. And a verie apt thing it is for her that will make the most of her Kine to skimme her Milke much part her selfe, by meane where­of she may iudge and fullie perceiue, when her Maides doe it, whether it be to her hinderaunce or no, and oft times it [Page] is good for the Mistres or dame to haue an eye to her Kine, whether they be well milked or no, for sometimes & chéefe­lie vpon the Holidaies, the Maides beeing disposed to goe to dauncing or other pastime, they will make more speede in milking then shall be profitable for the owners of them. And consider that if the Kine be not well milked and stro­ked, or some of them left vnmilked, it is a marring to the Kine, for thereby they will the rather grow drie, and be the worse milch long time after.

The woman.

Yet all this while, I haue heard nothing of your Coun­trey fashion, for salting or powdring of Cheese, and drying thereof.

The Man.

They laie their Cheeses to bee salted in such shallowe Trowes as before is spoken of, with bryne that commeth onelie of salt melted vp to the middle of the side of yt Chéese if they be thicke, the longer &c. When the Chee [...] be [...] out of salt, they must be well washt with warme liquor, then well wiped and dried, and so laide: vppon faire shelues or boordes, and euerie day once to turne them, and the Chée­ses, and the place where they doo lie, to bee well and drie wiped each date, for if through default of not so dooing, the print or forme of the Cheese is seene where it did lie: it is a point of housewifrie that may be amended.

The woman.

Howe is your opinion for Cheese, washt or vnwasht, which thinke ye best.

The Man.

The Cheese washt is fairest in sight, but Cheese vn­washt will continue best, and continue moistest to be spent, and the better to be sold by waight.

[Page] The woman.

Nowe ye haue answered me in all these points, I ren­der vnto you right hartie and condigne thankes.

The Man.

And I likewise thanke you good wife of your patience, and when you heereafter haue conference with any your Neighbours of this our former talke: I praie you reporte that I haue not taken vpon me to teache you or others, how ye should make whitmeate, for it were vnseemely that a Man that neuer made anie, (but hath seene and behelde o­thers in dooing thereof) should take vpon him to teache wo­men that hath most knowledge and experience in that arte. I haue but onelie made vnto you rehearsall of the order and fashion how it is vsed in ye Countreie where I was borne, to the ende that you and others, vnderstanding bothe, may vse your owne mindes and discretions therin, for sure I am, olde custome and vsages of things bee not easie to bee bro­ken.

The woman.

For my part I like your talke so well, that I beseeche you to make some rehearsall againe thereof concerning this misterie, by meane whereof ye may call to memorie some thinges yet vnspoken of, and thereby also cause me the bet­ter to beare it awaie.

The Man.

I perceiue well ye are desirous to haue me make a new rehearsall or recapitulation of my former sayings, which to doe, because ye are a woman, who bee neuer satis-fied, till they haue their will and minde fulfilled, I beeing one well knowne, that alwaies heeretofore haue beene of good will to accomplish womens desires, will nowe be content also to doe as ye haue willed me heerein.

[Page] And first I will saie vnto you, it is both good and profi­table to haue your Kine milked earlie in the morning, and rathe at night, for then (especiallie in Sommer time) they shall haue time to feede out of the heate of the daie, and by that meane giue the more milke. If your Kine be milked farre from home, cause then the milke to be brought home in vessels betweene two felkes, couered with a faire Lynnen cloth twice double, and cheefely in the morning, to the in­tent that thereby the milke may remaine warme enough to be put a running with the euening Milke made warme ouer the fire for that purpose. And if you send farre for your Kine to be milked at home, see in any case that they bee quietly brought home, for if they shoulde be hastilie dryuen, you shall haue thereby much the lesse milke. Your milking Maides (as I said) must be strong, quick, and in all theyr dooings clenlie. But marke ye one thing, that sometimes in Sommer season, by occasion of vehement heate, or by force of much thundring & lightning, or by noise of great Gunnes the drinke in your house may suddainlie change and growe [...]ger, and then your swéete Milke with that sower Ale or Beare, will make so pleasant a drinke, called of some a sil­libub, or a posset vnder the Cowe, that if it be not seene vn­to, ye shall finde thereby, that your Cheeses be not so well filled after that as they were before, nor so much Creame gathered. Your pailes or buckets to milke in, ought to bee kept cleane and sweete as before, for otherwise they will cause the Milke to turne when it commeth to the fire. If the inner side of thē be colloured like a Grey Friers or a Mil­lers coate, I feare the Maides will be taken for [...], al­though their Mistres or dame, will take occasion to excuse themselues, because they laie in bedde in the morning tyll their Maides had milked, where as if she had béen a fine and a thriuing huswife withall, shee might while her Maides were in milking, haue flit or skymmed all her Milke pans of the euening Milke, there lyeth much profit therein if shee could find the waie to practise it. Then vse your Milk thus, [Page] put the euening Milke skimmed and warmed ouer the fire, and the morrow milke newe milked togeather, and so run them togeather, then make your Cheese as aforesaid, presse it well, and clothe it oft enough, scalde your Milke pannes well, then drie them and sette them vp an edge. When yee change your Cheese in pressing thereof out of one cloth into an other, if there happen some part of the edges of ye Cheese to hang out of the sides of the same (as commonly béeing well filled in the fate it will doo) you must cut that awaie, paring it euen by the edges thereof, & cut that in smal péeces for your younge Chickens. A better meate yee can not haue to feede them with, and a more apt place then your Cheese house is to kéepe them in, ye cannot haue. But then ye must remember to put your Henne in a Coope, or for defaulte thereof, to tie her by the legge, in such place of the house as yee shall thinke meete for her, laying néere vnto her a borde of a foote and more in bredth, whereuppon yee may be well assured the Henne will alwaies broode her Chickens ra­ther then vpon the grounde. And if folke hastilie chaunce to come into the house where the Chickens be abroode in the house, although there were in euery corner of the house a Henne tied that hath Chickens, they will with all speede euerie of them runne for succour to their owne dam, where she standeth tied, as well as a Souldiour in the fielde will repaire to his Captaine in time of néede. The next morning after your Cheese is made, put them in brine as before is mencioned, & béeing salted enough, wash them with whore liquor out of salt, wipe them drie, and laie them on fayre shelues or boordes, and euerie daie turne them, wiping thē and the place where they laie, for as I saide before, if the Cheese lie so long vnturned, that the forme or print of the Cheese remaineth in the boordes where it did lie, it is much discomendable, and of all folkes delighting in clenlines to be disliked. Put no Cheeses into anie racks before they bee harde. When ye are disposed to make Butter, cause your Cherne diligently to bee prepared as before is spoken of, [Page] your Butter béeing come take it out of the Cherne, into a faire olde smoothe Bole, and therein washe it from ye But­ter whey, otherwise called Cherne milke, which béeing per­fectlie doone, put the Butter all abroade in the Bole, & with a Knife garse it euerie waie, drawing euer the edge of the Knife towards you, that doone, then with your forefinger strike the most part of the Butter from the side of ye Knife, then betwéene your forefinger and your thombe strike all the Butter from the edge of the Knife, and holde that vp be­twéene you and the light, and yee shall sée therein both Lint and haires, though the Creame were neuer so well strained into the Cherne, although this be not héere in vse, shee that leaueth it vndoone, albeit to be very fine and clenly shee sée­meth herselfe, lint and haires will be in her Butter. Then salt your Butter, and weigh it, and note if your Maids had as much Butter of like time gathered before.

And thus nowe I finish and make an ende, sauing one thing more yet I call to mind, and that is, if your milking Maides be disposed to sing in time of their milking, some Cowe will take such a delight therein, that afterward whē a Maide commeth to milke her and doth not sing, shée will not stand to be milked, and when Maides come to milke Kine more gailiar apparelled, then they be accustomed to milke in, the Kine will be verie dangerous to stande to bee milked of them. And at a Copie hold heere in South-ham­shire of mine, I haue had also this experience, that one of my Kine hath had such a minde and fantasie to one of my Maides, that in her presence the Cow would neuer stand to be milked of anie other but of her onelie. And thus nowe I ende and take my leaue of you.

The woman.

And I eftsoones render vnto you condigne thankes for all your gentle communication, and rehearsall of your for­mer sayings.

[Page] The Man.

Because the keeping of so great a number of milch Kine in one grounde or pasture, as before is spoken of, shall not be thought to be fained: it was at a Grange in Suffolk, be­longing then to an Abbie of white Monkes, called Sibeton Abbie, fiue miles from Donwiche, and foure miles from Framingham Castell.

Heereafter followeth a saying of her that was the dai­rie wife, and made the whitemeat manie yeeres togeather of all the Kine aforesaide, in commendation of earlie rysing.

Arise earelie.
Serue God deuoutly.
Then to thy worke busilie.
To thy meate ioyfully.
To thy bed merilie.
And though thou fare poorely,
And thy lodging homelie.
Yet thanke God highly.
Ka. Dowe.

An other saying concerning the same.

To rise betimes, thy selfe to recreate
To looke well to thine owne, & to kéepe a sober estate
Long ere thou eatest, and not to sup late,
To lie high with thy head, and to sléepe moderate
Makethman rich, long life and fortunate.
FINIS.

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