IN times past there dwelte in a huge and great forrest, a wise and god­ly man: dayly watching, fasting, and praying de­uoutly, seruing the Lorde. Who being desirous to at­taine, asmuch as lay in man, to the true and per­fect knowledge of vnder­standing, and the loue of God, leauing his cottage, determined with himselfe to trauaile through all the world, for to see if he could find any that wold vouch­safe to teach him the same. And after greate and [Page 2]wearisome iournyes, met in the ende with a shep­heard, feeding his flocke in a green pasture. He being very glad of this, hauing as yet in none of all his iourneyes found or scene any man: came to him & said: Brother I thanke God that I doe see thee, wherevpon the shepheard bidding him welcome, as­ked him what hee lookt for in this desart. I looke, saide he, for a knight, who but nowe is gone by this way.

The seconde Chapter doth instruct the Pastors and Teachers of the people.

DEsire, for it was that holy mans name, meruaylinge greatly at the prouision, diligence and care which the shephearde tooke in his trade: for that he had a crook in his hand, a bagge hanging at his right side, woodeen cloge at his feet, and a long coat vpon his backe: besides at his lefte side two hornes hanging at his girdle, th [...] one somwhat bigger th [...] the other, and two great dogges lying before at his [Page 4]feet, and not farre from thence his cottage enui­roned with a hedge of thornes rounde about it. The shepherd perceuing Desire to beholde and to view him so diligent and narrowly, asked him the cause of his wondering, & that if neuer before he had seen any shepheard. Wher­vppon Desire aunswered him, how he had seene di­uers of them, but none so well prouided and furni­shed of all necessaries as he was, desyring him most frendly, that it woulde please him to shewe and declare vnto him those thinges which hee should in curtesie demand & aske him. The shephearde ha­uing graunted to satisfy [Page 5]him in all his questions, so farre as he was able or his knowledge shoulde reach vnto. Desire began and saide, tell mee I pray thee, wherefore carryest thou this crooke? Why demandest thou mee this question (quoth the shep­hearde) and thou a coun­trey swaine, and a heard-man, and doest thou not know this? I do carry it said he, that I might leane vpon it, and keep me from falling when I leade my sheep about the pastures. To rule likewise my sheep with it, & to driue thē into y^e right way, & to keep thē together that they runne not astray, and s [...]eke sun­dry wayes according to their owne pleasure. For [Page 6]when one runneth before and the other behind, then doe I driue the hindmost forwarde. And what hast thou in this bagge (quoth Desire.) Diuers and sun­dry things aunswered the shephearde: First of all I haue a tinder boxt, for to strike & make fyre in colde weather, and to dresse my meat for me and my hous­holde. Besides I haue in it, breade, ointmentes, a smal bottel with oyle, and salt, giuing these to my sheep oftētimes, but chief­ly the salt. Wherefore dost thou weare these wooddē clogges demanded Desire? for to keep my feete warm when it is [...]r [...]g [...], or the drie in raying weather, an­swered the shepheard: for [Page 7]if I should wear fine and proper shoes, they would be quickly worne & spoy­led in the wet and snowe. What dost thou with this long coate saide Desire: It serueth to cloath mee (qd the shepheard) for if I did not weare this coate, I should not seeme to bee a heardeman. But of what stuffe is it made (demaun­ded Desire?) It is made of sheep skinnes (answered the shephearde) for if my frocke were made of Wolf skinnes, or of any other kinde of beast, the sheepe woulde smell it quickly, & woulde flie and runne a­way from mee, but nowe that I am cloathed with their wooll, they loue me, know me, and follow me. [Page 8]Tell mee (quoth Desire) what hast thou in this small horne hanging at thy girdle. Ointmentes (saide the shephearde) to ointe my sheepe withall, when they bee scabbed. And what hast thou in the other horne somwhat big­ger then the first (deman­ded Desire.) Tincture and collour (answered y^e shep­heard) to marke my sheep withall, for to know them again when they are stra­gled by chaunce among o­ther straunge sheep. What dost thou with these dogs. These dogges barke in y^e night, turne and chase a­way the Wolues, for the better safety of my sheepe, and because I shoulde the more quietly take my rest [Page 9]without [...]eare. Wherefore [...]oest thou al things so ad­uisedly (quoth Desire?) be­ [...]ause I haue a good boun­tifull Lorde (answered the shepheard) who hath pro­mised mee great recom­pence for my paines, al­ [...]hough I rather doe this more through the loue which I beare him then for the recompence I doe looke to receiue at his handes.

The third Chapter intreateth yet of the same matter.

DEsire did mar­nayle greatly at all these things, being wonderfully well pleased, that hee did all this through meere loue. And tolde him, bro­ther seeing thou spendest the most part of the day in the fieldes, I praye thee canst thou not shewe mee which waye a certaine knight is gone, trauay­ling vp and downe with­out companie, because they haue thrust him out of his house, and his own subiectes will not knowe nor receiue him, therefore [Page 11]doth he seek on with whō he might dwell & remaine for euer. What is this man quoth the shepheard? He is called the Loue of God, answered Desire, I know where he commonly kee­peth, said the shephearde, and if I had one to looke to my sheepe, then would I bring thee my self wher­her dwelleth, to ease thee somewhat of thy iourney, for thou must know, that he loues shepheards, and is glad of their compa­nies, and although he bee a knight, is notwithstan­ding a shepheards sonne. But because I haue no body to keepe my sheepe, I will shew thee the way as neere as I can. There­fore brother go through [Page 12]this desart and great for­rest, at the ende whereof thou shalt finde a costly Pallace, where none but women must dwell, who will shewe thee where thou mayest finde thie knight. For hee is of such frendly and vertuous na­ture and conuersation, y^t hee despiseth no mans cō ­panie nor fellowshippe. These wordes did very much please and reioyce Desire, and chiefely because they put him in hope that hee shoulde finde out the Loue of God, saying bro­ther, I pray thee shew me the direct way, that I may not misse my way: I may not leaue my sheepe alone, quoth the shep­hearde, but yet I will ap­point [Page 13]and get thee good company, that will leade thee God willing in the readiest & best way: take therefore this Dogge for this purpose. But what is his name quoth Desire: He is called Good-wil, said the shephearde. I thanke thee quoth Desire, & God haue thee in his keeping. The Lord bee with thee & thy guide, aunswered the Shephearde, and had him farewell.

Of the Pallace of Humility.

WHen Desire was parted from the shepheard, who had committed him to y^t way [Page 14]with his new companiō, being a great comfort vn­to him in his iourney, af­ter many nightes & daies trauelling, came at the end vpō a Sunday, in a green and large field, very plea­sante, the grounde neuer­thelesse being nothing but grauel & very drie: where­at DESIRE maruelling greatly, how it should be possible, that so faire and flourishing hearbes could growe in so rocky a place, sit rather for thornes and thistles, then for any thing els. Espied in the midst of the fielde, a sumptuous & costly Pallace, where­of he reioyced: and in all paste going to the howse, ounde the gates thereof shutte, and a fayre Dam­zell [Page 15]standing without, by her fauour and outwarde apparell, seeming very honest & vertuous. Who seeing his dogge was af­fraide of him, and began to shake. But Desire wil­led her not to feare him, because he was not wont to doe harme to any man. Desire maruelling at this Damzell, watching at the gates of the pallace, sayd: Tel me I pray thee sister, what lookest thou here for alone: I tarry aunswered she, til they open the gates that I might enter in: how art thou called then quoth Desire, my name is sayde she, Vaine-Glory. Desire hauing taried long at the gates, and seeing that hee thus watched in vain, be­gan [Page 16]to knocke (for at the doore did hange an won hammer called Patience) to see if any man woul [...]e come to open the gates. And presently there came an aunciente and reue­rende father, being Por­ter and keeper of all the house, to open the doores, and his name was the Feare of God. Desire seeing this olde and worshipfull father, after due reuerence done vnto him, saide: I am come hither sir, to look for a certain knight called the Loue of God, and the [...] haue tolde mee howe he shoulde bee past through thie forrest, and come into this house, therefore full [...]am would I know whe­ther he be here or not The [Page 17]Porter was glad of these wordes, for hee loued in­tirely the Loue of God, be­ing his brother, and saide vnto him. Sonne where­fore doest thou looke for this knight, what busines hast thou with him? Most reuerend father, answered Desire, I doe aske for him because I doe reioyce in him, and stande in great need of him. Howe so quoth The feare of God? be­cause said Desire, I would willingly dwell with him and be his seruant, for in all this countrie there is none who liketh mee bet­ter, although I might haue had many others that most gladly woulde haue entertayned me. But I haue beene certified of [Page 18]him by others, how he is a noble, courteous, and bountifull Lorde to his seruantes. It is most true answered the Porter, that thou sayest, and not long agone hee came by this way, with smal company, yet notwithstanding, at this present hee is not within, but tarry here a while, till I go call a Damosell, who wil shew thee directly, where thou maiest find him.

The seuenth Chapter howe Vaine-Glorie keepeth the watch at the gates of the Pallace of Humilitie.

DEsire tarried merily til y^e Damosell shold come w^e the Por­ter, and not long after, there came foorth a very humble and vertuous Ladie greeting him very frendly, and hee likewise her, saying, I pray thee Ladie tell mee thy name is said wee: E­steeme me nothing, & how is this house called, quoth hee. The Pallace of Humi­litie answered she, because there are many Ladies [Page 20]dwelling in it vnder one soueraigne called Humili­ty. And what gentle wo­man is she, said hee, that watched without at the gates? She is called Vain-Glorie answered she, wat­ching continually at the gates till they are opened: and whensoeuer the Por­ter looketh not narrowly to her, or taketh smal heed to his charge, then shee presumeth oftentimes to come in. Wherefore wilt thou not suffer her to come in said Desire, seeing her wordes, her apparell and fauour seemeth to bee honest and vertuous. Ah brother aunswered shee, thou doest not yet knowe her, for she is a most pesti­lent and wicked creature, [Page 21]and although she seemeth honest by her outwarde behauiour, she is therefore not any thing the better, but rather the worse. what iniury doth she thē vnto thee said Desire? As much as she is able to do, answered the Ladie, for she is daughter to a wic­ked father called Self-loue, and to a worser mother, called Selfe-Conceit. These three being our greatest foes in the worlde, are yet greater enemies to the Lorde, and chiefe of the house, called The loue of God.

Wilt thou know what iniury shee doth vnto vs, whensoeuer shee entreth by one way or another in­to the house, shee is very [Page 22]greedy and hungry, and runneth presently to a garden, and eateth all the fruites of the best tree which wee haue, by the which we do liue onely & are all maintayned: and haue but one of these trees, which is not yet ve­rie fruitful, when she hath thereof stolen the fruites away, wee remaine very poore and are scarce able to liue. Besides, which is farre worse, shee is a great flatterer, and hath so smooth a tong, that when­soeuer she is come within, there is none that is able to thrust her out againe, but onely our soueraigne Humilitie, whom when she seeth, presently sheweth her heeles, and runneth a­way [Page 23]as fast as shee can. Therefore it is best not to let her come in: & to this intent haue we made this olde man our Porter, be­cause he is something hard and frowarde, and speedi­ly clappeth the doore to her face, and taketh great heed that she enter not by stealth, or on a sodaine. Moreouer wee haue desi­red him, that hee shoulde looke wel to his charge, in opening and shutting the gates. Desire wondering at this Ladies wordes, saide: thou hast reason not to suffer her to come in, seeing what great harme ye all receiue by her.

The sixt Chapter concer­ning the way to Hu­militie.

TEll mee saide Desire, who brought thee in this faire & costly Pal­lace, two Ladies answe­red shee, the one called Contempt of the world, and the other, Contempt of her selfe: whereof the last is more holie then the first. These two Damselles did guide and conduct me hi­ther, and desired our soue­raigne, that it wold please her to entertaine mee, but shee woulde neuer haue done it, vnlesse it had been for a certaine Knightes [Page 25]sake who met vs in the way and brought vs hi­ther, and for the loue of him gaue me this garmēt, and receiued mee into her seruice. But if God had not granted vs this grace, that wee had founde this Knight in our way, wee should haue taken all this paines in vaine, for shee woulde neuer haue enter­tayned me. How doe they cal this knight, quoth De­sire: The Loue of God an­swered shee, all which did make Desire glad, and did increase his desire more to serue him, because he per­ceiued that y^e Loue of God was so much esteemed of in this place. Sister, said Desire of what kindred were these two Ladies [Page 26]who brought thee hither. For it profiteth greatly to vertuousnes, to be the childe of honest and godly parentes, because for the most part, the tree taketh her force from the roote. I know their kindred very well answered the Ladie, for they bee of a greate stocke, and their father is (for they are sisters) one of the chiefest in the Kinges Court, & is called Know­ledge. Besides I do know their Grandfather, called Obseruing: a very wise and sensible man, doinge all his things w^t counsel & aduice, who tooke a wife called Wisedome. Then sayde Desire, The knight who met thee vppon the way, was hee alone, no [Page 27]quoth shee, for hee had a page with him, whom he loued sincerely, and was called Neighbourly Loue. Canst thou not shew mee saide Desire, whether this knight is gone? I said she but first wee wil go with­in, and I will bring thee by some that will giue thee better direction. But good Lorde, quoth shee, what doest thou with this great Mastine: He is giuē me sayd hee, for at y^e first I had but a smal one, y^t was brought vp in my chāber, til I met a shepheard who hath bestowed this Dog vppon mee to bring me in safetie through this great Forrest: How doest thou cal him said she, Good-will saide hee, it is a very good [Page 28]Dog quoth she, & if thou canst keepe him wel, thou shalt be sure, as long as he shall remaine with thee, that he will not suffer any harme to fall vppon thee and thou needest not to feare that thou shalt go a­stray out of y^e right way: Tell me sayde Desire, who shal shew me this knight? Brother aunswered shee, hee dwelleth far from this place, and thou must goe seuen daies iourney at the least through this desarte, before thou canst come to him where hee dwelleth: There be seuen houses in this desart, and there is no other hie way but one. But for the Loue of God, I will shew thee a short foot path, which will shorten [Page 29]thy way, that thou maiest come the sooner to thy iourneyes ende: but thou must follow my counsell. Desire was glad to heare these wordes, and chiefly because she did it onely for loue, and said, whatsoeuer thou commaundest mee to doo, that will I doe most willingly, for hereby to finde out the Loue of God.

In this desart saide she stand eight houses or pal­laces, the first is, the Pal­lace of Humility: the second of Iustice: the third of Wis­dome: the fourth of Forti­tude: the fift of Temperāce: y^e sixt of Faith: y^e seuenth of Hope: the eight of Charity: and in the last of all dwel­let, the Loue of God, and is soueraigne of the house [Page 30]& all this way must thou goe, so thou wilt not goe out of thy way. But as I haue tolde thee before, so according to my pro­mise will I shewe thee a foote path to shorten thy way. But first of all must thou dwell for a time here in this house, for to learne marke and remember all our manners, and become acquainted with our So­ueraigne & her watching maides, and neuer to for­get their names nor their countenances. And when thou shalt haue had a trial of all belonging to this house, and shalt bring cer­taine tokens from vs to y^e Loue of God, then soon wil he entertaine thee, for the great affection he beareth [Page 31]to our house aboue any of the rest, and chiefly when hee shall see a letter from our Soueraigne. Where­fore (demaunded Desire) doth this knight loue this house more then any o­ther? for in my iudgement it is the poorest, and barest of them all. Thou must knowe, y^t this house was the first builded in this de­sarte, and all the rest are subiect vnder it. And our commaunder and chiefe gouenour the first foun­der of it, did dwell here, and although hee went in progresse oftentimes for to see the other his friends and subiectes so to keepe thē in good order, yet not­w^tstanding all this, would not be cald but a sō of this [Page 32]house. Desire hauing gi­uen a diligent eare to her wordes found his hart to bee more inflaimed with Loue, for he did conceiue her meaning very well, & said: that hee would wil­lingly remaine there for a time, till her had learned all their customes. Let vs go within then, said shee, and took him by the hand and went to showe him all the house.

The seuenth Chapter concer­ning the talke which Humility had with Desire.

AFter y^t the la­die had shew­ed him all the house, he gret­ly maruelled at the fairenes and beauty thereof, and the more be­cause it seemed outwarde­ly but verye simple and homely and of no great shoe, but was within ve­ry profitable and necessa­rie, the foundation where­of was not set vpon gra­uell or sand, but vppon a fayre and precious stone. And after he had saide his prayers in the Chappell [Page 34]standing in the house, the Ladie did leade him into the chamber of her Soue­raigne, who receiued him most courteously, and be­cause she found him so ad­uised and circumspect in al his words, bad him to sit down next to her side and said: My son, wherefore art thou come to vs, see­ing that we are so simple, poore and despised? Ah most reuerent Ladie, aun­swered Desire, I seeke for a Knight calles the Loue of God, and I am told that I shall not finde him, vn­lesse I remaine for a cer­taine time with your La­dishippe, and if it woulde please you, I would most gladly tarry here at your obedience and commaun­dement. [Page 35]Thy good will, saide the Lady, pleaseth me well, but first of all re­member thy self, and haue care what thou hast to do, for not to repent hereaf­ter. God graunt me grace quoth he, to remaine con­stant in all vertues, & sted­fast in all godlines. Amen said the Ladie. And that it may please him who hath begun in thee a good worke to bring it to per­fection, for it is necessarie that thou shouldst putthy helping hande to it, as much as lyeth in thee, and that God doe accomplish it. What must I do then, said he: I wil tell thee, an­swered the Ladie, if thou art minded to remain here with vs, then thou must [Page 36]seeke to keepe my daugh­ters fauour, who brought thee in, & take her as thy gouernes, for she is called Esteeme nothing. And wee haue put her in this office to entertaine straungers. because she sholde instruct them, and those that will not be vnder her commā ­dement, can neuer remain constant or stedfast. I am ready, quoth Desire, to take her for my gouernes and guider in all my actions. But may it please your Ladiship to let me know your name, your kindred, your estate, and by what meanes you are become a Soueraigne to all these damsels and Ladies, for I was told before I came in, that it was necessary [Page 37]for me to know all this, y^t by these meanes I might loue your Ladiship, and all your houshold the bet­ter and likewise when I should goe from hence, y^t I might giue those that should aske mee good di­rectious and certayne to­kens of my former aby­ding here.

My name, saide she, is Humilitie, my father was called Contempt of himselfe, and my grandfa­ther Knowledge of himselfe, and my grandmother Knowledge of God, and my grandfather was borne in a Citty called Remem­ber what thou art, what thou hast beene, and what thou shalt be. And my grand­mother was borne in a [Page 38]Cittie called Remembrāce of the loue God. And to come to the Cittie where they were borne, there are but two waies and two gates to come in. The one is himselfe, and the o­ther the Creatures. Be­sides they say, that none can come into the foresaid gates but flying, And howe the Lorde himselfe hath builded the Cittie w^t his owne hands, for there is no man able to build so great, fayre and strong a Cittie, then he only. How said Desire, the Lord who is so excellent, will be bu­sie himselfe to make such walles of earth, I, answe­red she, for he is a cunning Mason and delighteth greatly to make walles, [Page 39]and monuments of earth. Wherefore doth hee this, seeing hee needeth nor wanteth nothing, quoth Desire. Therefore answe­red shee, because hee is so bountifull that he will ne­uer bee idle in doing good to others. And of all that he doth, seeketh but euery mans health, rest and sal­uation, although the ho­nour hereof apertaine to him onely. And therefore he maketh his workes of such slight and vile stuffe, as earth, to bee the more praysed of all. I meruaile saide Desire, that such a no­ble and high Lorde wil be praised, and feareth not to fall into vaine glory. Not so, said Humilitie, for he is so perfect in all goodnesse, [Page 40]that no imperfection can any way touch him. And the glorie which wee doe giue him is not vaine, but is his due as belonging vnto him. And although wee shoulde giue him as much honor as euer wee could, yet in no wise shold wee pay that which wee do owe, and much lesse at­taine to that hee is worthy of. And therefore he will be praised and honoured, not because hee is ambiti­ous, but because he is the most perfect in all iustice & perfection, and will that euery one shoulde receiue that which is their owne, and due vnto them: and because wee do owe vnto him which is good alone, al h [...]or, praise & thanks [Page 41]he will therefore in iustice, that wee doe giue it vnto him. And whensoeuer a­ny other doth desire or looke [...]or it, as if it were h [...]s owne: then may hee well be called vaine-glo­rious, stealing it from him to whome it onely belon­geth, and is worthy of no better title then of a thiefe, that will seeme to vsurpe Gods right, which is due onely vnto his diuine Maie­stie.

The eight Chapter, wherin Humilitie proceedeth in her words.

DEsire said, I praye your Ladishippe (seeing you haue satisfi­ed me in the rest) to tell me by what meanes you are become a Soueraign to this house, for in my iudgement, it is a great honour & credite. And perchaunce it might be my lucke to bee once a commander of such a like place, for there is great difference to commaund, and to bee commaunded. The Ladie Humilitie, hea­ring these words began to [Page 43]bitterly. Wherefore Desire demaunded her the occasi­on of her sorrowe & wee­ping. Then answered she, I weep because I see thee outwardly & not inward­ly clad with Humilitie, and carriest onely the bare name of an aduised man, thy heart and mind being notwithstanding far from it. In vaine hast thou spo­ken yet to me, and til now hast thou dissembled with vs all, because such thoughtes and desires do vtterly displease my God and Father, who being man in this worlde, and hauing taken vppon him our shape and nature, sought not with words or deedes to commande, but rather to be commaunded [Page 44]of the simplest. And who­soeuer keepeth not this way, taketh the high way to condemnation, missing the right path leading to eternal life. Ah poore and miserable wretches that seeke to command and di­rect others, hauing more then inough to command and gouerne themselues. whoso [...]uer hunteth after this honour, seeketh care, griefe, trauaile, paine, di­stresse and danger. O hea­uie burthen that bringeth to a man but paine and griefe, & the il will, gaine­say, and murmuring of those that were bounde in duety to recompence labor with thankes and thank­fulnesse: which tho [...] shalt finde to bee most true [Page 45]if thou remaynest but a while with vs. And be­cause I shoulde satisfie thee vpon thy demande, I will not hide frō thee this secrete, but for the loue of God open and disclose to thee my hearte. When I came first to this house I humbled my self as a slaue and seruant to all the rest of the damsels, which lowlines I haue continu­ally so loued, and embra­ced, that the mercy of God did marrye mee to this minde as to a husband, by whose means I haue got­ten this office, although I did vtterlie detest it and refuse it. When Desire did hear this, be honoied this Ladie greatly in his hart, & esteemed her to bee very [Page 46]vetuous y^e wold for y^e Loue of God becom so humble & lowlie: and said, nowe doe I see whosoeuer will become a gouernour and commander of others, must first of all followe your Ladiships steppes, and learne to be humble & cammanded. It is so my sonne answered shee, and if thou didst vnderstande [...]ne right, then thou shoul­dest perceiue that they are not my wordes but the e­uerlasting truthes. How shoulde I vnderstand thē quoth Desire? Thou must knowe said shee, that hee who humbleth himselfe, shalbe exalted, although he doth not humble him­selfe to that intent to bee exalted, for by these means [Page 47]he shoulde fall into pride, and humilitie and pride are contraries one to o­ther: For if one hum­bleth himself in any work which he taketh in hand, in on wise may he become proude of it, although in his worke consisteth hu­mility, yet in himselfe (humbling himselfe to such an ende as I haue spoken of) shoulde consist pride and ambition. And because the worke taketh his name and title from the intent of a mans minde: it happeneth that such humilitie is properly termed with the name of pride and arrogancy. And to speake more plainly of this, humility is not alto­gether contrary to pride, [Page 48]seeing they do remaine at one time in one body to­gether (which is contrary to y^e nature of contraries) but the spirite of the one is quite repugnant to the o­ther, so that they can not abide one anothers sight, for humilitie is onely the worke, but the spirite of humilitie maketh a happy end of the same, together with the good intent for to humble himselfe.

The ninth chapter doth pro­secute the former words, & of the battaile between the flesh and the spirit.

THis my lowe minde sayde Humilitie, is my faithfull helper, & de­fender, in a battaile which I dayly sustaine against a mighty Princesse of an o­ther pallace, who hath a great sorte of Ladies vn­der her iurisdiction: and her court is called, the Pal­lace of Pride, and the soue­raigne thereof, the Pride of life. Euery day shee com­meth or to contende and quarrel with me couering onely to search out mine [Page 50]eyes. And bringeth with her the lifetenaunce of her house, commonly called the cōcupiscence of the flesh, with her steward, the con­cupiscence of the eyes, these three are accompanyed with an other wicked womā their mother, who hath nourished them all, called Obliuion. But be­cause she is oftentimes of no force, and very weake, therefore shee bringeth w^e her a foolish idiot, and vn­brideled watching maide called Maliciousnes, besides 3. other more, y^e one cal­led Wrath, the other Sloth­fulnes, and the third Enuy. And with these two last, there comes two other named il Suspition, & false Iudgement, these are alto­gether [Page 51]my mortall ene­mies, against whō I am forced to sight & to striue: & whensoeuer they haue made an entrance here in our house, then by the lownesse of my minde I driue them out again, and doe giue them the foyle. But when I & my com­pany haue done this, then must we be carefull onely but for one thing, which is diligently to looke that this damsell called Vaine­glory (continually keeping sentinell at our doore) doe not enter, for when soeuer she cometh within, then she doth robbe vs of al the profite, delight and plea­sure, which we take in o­uer comming in others, so that we can no wise enioy [Page 52]the fruits of our pain and trauaile: and when these other Ladies, sayd De­sire, make an entraunce here within, for to enda­mage you, wherefore doth not shee that standeth without at the gates come in w^t them. Because aun­swered Humilitie, that the other Ladies haue wings and neuer enter through y^e doore, but flie alwaies o­uer the wals of the house, and oftentimes doe hyde themselues in some corner of the house, & lie in am­bush, for to assault vs whē we think least vpon them. Therefore it is most nece­ssary that wee shoulde watch and warde conti­nually, that we be not as­saulted being altogether [Page 53]vnprouided for to fight. Let vs speake some thing more plainer of this point quoth Desire. Wherefore doe you contende & striue with them, seeing it is not well done to giue an euill example to others, which happeneth, when men see such iars, strifes and con­tentions, betweene wise and godly people, who should be merciful, meeke and bountiful for the Loue of God towards euery bo­dy. We battell and con­tend with them, saide Hu­militie, and seeke to driue them out of our house, be­cause they are mortal ene­mies to the Loue of God, who is our onely Lande­lorde, & in matters which are contrary vnto him, we [Page 54]shoulde nor will not con­tract, or enter in league w^t any body.

The tenth Chapter doth en­treat of the concupiscēce of the flesh and how to ouercome it.

THe good will & loyalty which Lady Humilitie did bear to the Loue of God, did wonder­fully delight Desire, and saide, Madame I woulde be glad that it woulde please your Ladishippe, to show and teach mee the meanes whereby, you doe vse to ouercome these wic­ked Ladies, your ene­mies, [Page 55]and driue them out of your house. I wold to God, aunswered shee, that thou wert herein sa­tisfied, but because I doe not yet know thy nature, will, and mind, but onely by certain external signes, whereby one may be de­ceyued, it causeth me som­what to doubt of your ho­nesty: for honny is not sweet to euery body: for the diuersity of sundry na­tures and complexions: My Soueraigne, quoth Desire, euen as I am here, and as your Ladishippe doth see me, so I yeeld my selfe into your power, my reason and will wholly submitting to yours, that I might receiue instructi­ons by these meanes for [Page 56]to find out y^e Loue of God. Most willingly wil I thē satisfie thy minde aunswe­red Humilitie, and disclose all my secrets, & commu­nicate vnto there my day­lie exercises.

First, my godly pretence and purpose beinge my husband (whereof I haue spoken vnto thee before) made mee by the meanes of Contempt, to ouercom the worlde, and by chast­ing and fasting to rule my one flesh, and to vanquish Sathan by humilitie, and make mee Soueraigne of this house, but chiefly of my selfe, which is the most of all. For when my flesh feeleth that I trauell and endeuour to please y^e Loue of God, then it doth resist [Page 57]me with all his crue, & is continually disquieted w^t my doings, but neuerthe­lesse my soule doth then remaine in peace, content­ment, and quietnesse.

Desire did meruaile greatly at the wordes of Lady Humilitie, and sayd, I pray your Ladishippe, that it may please you to instruct me by some simili­tude in these things, for I am somewhat dull of vn­derstanding, so that I shal better conceiue your mea­ning by an example or cō ­parison. This motion did greatly please Humili­tie, and chiefly, because she saw how he did begin to waxe humble, in confessing the dulnesse and grossenes of his wit and vnderstan­ding, [Page 58]and said: My childe, whensoeuer any of y^t fore­saide women doe enter in, then I behaue my selfe in this sort, as for example: when Concupiscence of the flesh beginneth to siruit with me, before she is able to come to mee, I knowe her, and her conditions very well, for shee is verie gluttenous, and gathereth forces by eating and drin­king, therefore I with­drawe from her all dainty kindes of meate, and wil not giue her so much of ordinarie diet as she doth desire to haue. And be­cause my forces are not a­ble to withstand or to vā ­quish her, (for mine owne houshold commeth to aide and to assist her) I craue [Page 59]and call for helpe at the hands of God, who stan­deth alwaies at my side, to strengthen mee against these wicked women. Moreouer, I doe esteeme my selfe to bee as a beast who doeth eate no more then his maister doth giue and allow him. But whē his maister seeth that he is greedie at his meate, hee doth restrayne his mouth with a mufle, because hee should not eate but at such times, and such as it doth please him to giue vnto him. Wherefore the Loue of God, my onely maister hath put about my mouth a mussell called Sobrietie, that I should eat no more then will suffice nature, & hath tolde me that I shold [Page 60]of that, yet something w^t ­drawe, if I woulde please hun. In this forte is this wicked Ladie vanquished and ouercome, as much as it doth concerne my owne selfe, But because she doth not onely assault me with mine owne flesh, but by others, doth pro­uoke and draw me to sen­sualitie and vncleannesse: therefore I auoide her as much as I am able, es­chewing all things wher­by she seeketh to intice me to her loue and liking, e­steeming this to be the best and only cemedy to escape her snares and deceytes. Furthermore. shee assaul­teth not▪ onely my body, but also my mind with di­uers and straunge imagi­nations [Page 61]and thoughtes: for y^e which to auoid like­wise, I iudge it the best remedie, to cast my mind vpon my Sauiour Christ, and continually to behold his death, passion & mar­tyrdome, as also to remē ­der the pames of hell, the straitnes of the last iudge­ment, and my small en [...]e, and that I must appeare before the tribunall seat of God, to giue an account of al my words, thoughts and deedes: And by these means is ouercome, van­quished and quite ouer­throwne this wicked wo­man, being Lieuetenant to the Pallace of Pride.

The xi. Chapter, Ladie Hu­militie speaketh against the Concupiscence of the eyes, and the pride of life.

IT auailed not to haue ouer­throwne y^e one vnles I shold endeuour my selfe also to vanquish the other her fellow and com­panion, who is Steward of this vngodly Pallace, & is called Concupiscence of the eyes. And oftentimes shee offered first the com­bate, but I ouercome her by my godly intente and purpose, saying: whenso­euer that shee is ready to come. In vaine doest thou seeke to assault me, for I [Page 63]am not unlike to a beast, that doth care for no thing but what is before him, & esteemed of no other su­perfluitie, but what hee needeth, and therewithall is contented, being no­thing curious in y^t which he lacketh, nor carefull whether the Saddle and the Trappi [...]rs are cleane, neat or old, or whether the stable or maunger be alto­gether fit for him or not, but is sufficiently satisfied when he may stand or lie, for to take his naturall rest. And because I e­steeme my selfe to bee such an other, for the Loue of God. I will vse my body according as they are v­sed: for when the maister doth mark that they waxe [Page 64]wilde and stubborne, hee putteth a bit and bridle in their mouth to rule them after his owne will. Like­wise bath the Loue of God brideled mee with a bitte called Sham [...]f [...]stnes, that I shoulde not curi­ously beholde and loue vanitie, for it is daun­gerous to beholde that which is forbidden to bee desired or coueted. where­fore the Loue of God hath giuen me warning, when [...]euer I shoulde come to [...]euer I shoulde come to see a thing which is beau­tifull, comely and delight­some to the eyes, that I shoulde not set my minde oppon it, but shoulde di [...] ­daine it as a trifle of no­thing, and shoulde conti­nually loue and behold y^• [Page 65]cheefest felicitie, being a a treasure not subiect to mutability, or vnconstācie which is my only Sauior Jesus Christ, who doth seeke and demaunde my heart and loue, and will most bountifully reward me for the same. And by these contemplations I ouercome the other Da­mosell. Now when these two are driuē away, there resteth yet the last, who is there Soueraigne to bee vanquished, who hath more deceite and subtiltie then all the rest, & watch­eth continually ouer the good workes of a man, and is called the Pide of life. And whensoeuer the commeth, she is alwayes accompanyed with one [Page 66]page or an other, the one called good, and the other euill intent. But so soone as I doe spie her, then I vse her in this sort: & tell her, Auoid thou wicked & deceitfull Syren, for if I sholdgiue eare to thy sweet poisoned words, I should draw vpon me a sea of ca­lamities & miseries. And although thou clounsellest me that I should grudge at the chastenings & com­mandement of others, yet I will not hearken to thy wordes, for I tell thee plaine, I thinke that hee loueth me, who doth cha­sten and rebuke me, for not to come to shame, and vtterly to bee cast away. Sometimes she doth pre­sent her selfe vnder the co­lour [Page 67]of Enuy and tels me. This bodie is in such au­thoritie, and this hath such a commandemente, but no bodie esteemeth of thee. The one is Soue­raigne, the other Lieuete­nant, the other Steward, & ouerseer the other: but thou art accounted but as a kitchin drudge, being notwithstanding vs old & as good as any of them al. Thou art without office or commaundement, and esteemed amongest them as a slaue of all slaues, be­cause they neuer commit any charge to thy handes, therefore thou mayest wel see, that he who doth most is least cōsidered of, here­after then vse thy selfe o­therwise, for whosoeuer [Page 68]maketh of himself a sheep, the woolfe wil quickly eat and deuoure him. These and such like things doth she cast before me, and cō ­meth dissembling wise to me, although I knew her not, nor could perceiue frō whence these lamentable words did spring & grow. Whereupon I aunswere her in this sort. Content thou thy selfe, I haue not forsaken the worlde, and mine owne selfe, to rule & command others, but to be gouerned & commaun­ded my selfe: Long agone haue I purposed to be o­obedient, and therefore I will doe that whereunto I am called. For God wil neuer aske an account of y^e commandement which I [Page 69]had here in this world, & how highly I haue beene aduaunced in Office and authoritie, but howe I haue behaued my selfe in mine estate, howe I haue executed those thinges which were commaun­ded mee: how I haue humbled my hearte to­wardes him. Therefore I will diligently execute the vocation whereunto God hath called mee, and meddle not with other mens offices and authori­ties. For I am assured of one thing, y^t it is a step & degree to saluation, to bee obedient, dutifull & hum­ble, from which no man can fall but by an aspiring minde. And therefore I haue no occasion to com­plain [Page 70]for this my basenes sake, but rather the more to thanke and praise the Lorde, and greatly to re­ioyce, that hee hath taken away frō me all occasions of feare and perill, wher­vnto honour and authori­tie doo oftentimes leade & bring a man. And herein let Saynt Augustine sa­tisfie thee, who saith: In nothing haue I felt more Gods wrath, then when he appointed me to rule & gouern others. And ther­fore my sonne maruaile not of this, for euen as this wicked Damsel, who is Soueraigne of the pal­lace of Pride, is more ad­dicted and giuen to all manner of iniquitie and wickednesse, so we of our [Page 71]side do need to be the more circumspect, strong & di­ligent for to auoide her snares and subtilties. And to bee short, I will shewe thee here a thing of no small importance, being a remedie whereby thou mayest vanquish, and o­uercome all these wicked crue together at once, or els euerie one apart. For when one of them com­meth, whosoeuer she be in complayning wise, do thē as I doo: Namely, when the Concupiscence of the flesh commeth, complay­ning, that they giue her too little & too cold cheer, or that her drinke is too smal or too sowre: then I answere her: It is most certaine that he who hath [Page 72]more then hee deserueth, hath no reason or occasion to complaine: & thou doest not deserue a crust of breade, nor a cup of colde water, as the best Saints haue confessed in truth of themselues, and therefore thou doest deserue a great deale lesse, who art not to bee compared vnto them in holines of life, being so vnstedfast in Gods ser­uice, and so vnthankfull for his benefites. What occasion hast thou then to complaine, seeing thou hast more then thou art worthy of. And the same I tell her likewise, when she misliketh her apparel. The like answere I giue vnto the other, called, Cō ­cupiscence of the eyes, whē [Page 73]she stirres and prouokes me with the desire of co­ueting this or that: saying to my selfe: O thou vile & poore wretch, that which thou desirest vnder the co­lour of neede, is superflu­i [...]y and contrary to the po­uertie of the spirite. And although shee is not by this altogether ouer­throwne, yet notwith­standing it doth diminish at the least our self-loue & pride in our vertues. And we Christians (who pro­fesse the name of Christ) should bee ashamed to bee endued with lesse vertues, then the Heathens and I­dolaters were, amongest whome Seneca was the onely mirrour and pat­terne of vertuous pouer­tie, [Page 74]as it is yet manifestly to be seene in his workes and writinges. The like aunswere I make to the thirde Damsell being cal­led the Pride of life, when­soeuer shee goeth about to tickle me with a desire to be honoured, esteemed of, exalted, and to command, thinking within my selfe: O thou miserable crea­ture, thou dost inioy more honor then thou art wor­thie of, if thou couldest onely conceiue it. For hast thou not deserued to burn in hell fire with the dam­ned soules? And beholde what honour the Lorde doeth shewe thee, to suffer thee to dwell in peace and quietnesse amongst his creatures, I and which is [Page 75]more, hath receiued thee in to his seruice, & hath made thee one of his domesticals & houshold. And although y^u art altogether vnworthy to be y^e least of his seruāts, yet hath he chosē thee to be one of his minions, & wil not let thee part from him night nor day, but requi­reth that thou shouldest speake with him continu­ally, and praise and thank him for his goodnesse. Moreouer hee dooth feede thee in this transitorie and mortall life, euen with y^e bread of Angels, and set­teth thee at his own table for to banquet with him. Thou proud wretch what canst th [...]u craue more▪ where wouldest thou clime? wouldest thou fall [Page 76]downe again from whēce thou art come, for to lie as deep in y^e bottomles pit of hell, as thy father Lucifer doth? what wouldest thou haue more? doest thou de­sire to bee God himselfe. Thou lackest nor needest nothing, O vnhappy creature as thou art, open but only thy blinded eies, and confesse that thou hast more then thou deseruest, or art worthy of. Be con­tented w^t that, that God sendeth thee, and with thine own estate, and per­swade thy selfe that all things which do happen, do come to passe by Gods ordinaunce and appoint­ment.

The twelfth Chapter doth in­treat of the waies and means to vanquish the other wic­ked Dam­sels.

WHen these three are o­uercome, thē easily mayest thou ouer­throwe her, who is their nurse and mother, called Obliuion, who comes cree­ping into the house through a thousand holes, sometimes she findes her selfe in the morninge, sometimes in the e­ueninge Prayers, and sometimes at our worke [Page 78]and labour. And alwaies I rebuke her in this sort: I tell thee woman, there is no man that keepeth a beast in his stable to bee i­dle alwaies, and to take his pleasure onely in ea­ting, drinking, & sleeping, but that hee might worke dayly with some courage. For whensoeuer a beast is not tamed with working, fasting and watching, hee groweth quickly stubborn and stiffe necked agaynst his maister. But when the mayster seeth y^t he is slow and nothing quicke, then he vseth a goade or spurre to driue and prick him for­warde: euen so hath the Loue of God procured for [...]e a rodbe called Feare, whereby he driues mee [Page 79]forwarde. And I that am seruant & the poorest of all the house, know ve­rie well that a slaue is not kept but for to worke and trauaile, & no bodie should make great accoūt of him or ease his taske or feede him daintily, because hee should not waxe too bold or too stubborne: for there is no worse man then a wicked prisoner. Further I aske her, whether the kingdome of heauen is to be gotten w^t eating, drink­ing, sleeping, and secure­nesse of life? Not so truely, for our sauiour Christ did not enter into it in this sort: & seeing y^t he who is our onely guide, did not take this waye to come thether, but by paines and [Page 80]sufferings entered into e­uerlasting blessednes: therfore if we wil obtaine the same ioy, then are we for­ced to walke in the way of sufferinges and pouertie, for when the head will go this way and the feet ano­ther, the bodie shall neuer be ioyned and come toge­ther. And if we do not keep the high way of suffering, trauaile, paine, and con­tempt, then wee can in no wise be incorporated, but shall bee cut off as vnpro­fitable members and brā ­ches, and be cast into Hell fire. And if we refuse to be partakers of his crosse & passion, then we shall not participate of his ioyes and resurrection. And if wee doe not finde Christ, [Page 81]in punishing our flesh, as he was whipped, spitted at, despised, wearied, poor, hungry, thirstie, and suffe­ring death betweene two theeus as an il doer, being neuertheles bout staine or spot, and altogether in­nocent, then wee are sure neuer to tast of his ioyes, and inioy his louely and sweet countenance, being nowe made kinge of all kinges, & Lord of Lords: sometimes this wicked woman comes to assault mee, when I am in my chamber at my prayers, although she were weari­ed and troubled with too much heate or frost. Then I tell her, woman a de­uout damsell feeleth no te­diousnes of a good thing. [Page 82]Besides, what shal I pay to the Lord againe, for all that hee hath giuen mee? What can I suffer to re­quite my deere and welbe-loued Sauiour Christ? Who through meere loue, hath lost his life vpon the crosse, not lying there at his owne pleasure, as I do heere, but was throw­en most cruelly vpon it, & there stretcht out as with a racke, not cloathed, but naked, not vnder a couer, but vnder the bare skie: not with warme shooes at his feete, but pearced w^t great and cold iron nails, and all this for my sake. Wherefore then should I grudge to suffer a thing of nothing for the loue of him? All which is yet smal [Page 83]in comparison of the rest, for he hath not onely, most gladly and willingly, for my sake suffered the mise­ries and calamities of this life, not for an houre, a day, or a moneth, but for three and thirtie years to­gether, and besides remai­ned three hours aliue vp­on the crosse, in such pain, grie [...]e, and martirdome, that no tongue is able to speake it, or any vnder­stand it to conceiue or comprehende it, all which seemed little vnto him for the great loue and affecti­on he bore to all mankind, and particularly to euery one of vs, & would haue suffered much more if it had beene needful: he not­withstāding being a king, [Page 84]and I worse then a slaue, he God, and I more vil­der then the earth, dust, or ashes: he most holy and innocent, and I a great and grieuous sinner, wor­thy of seuere punishment. And seeing hee hath done all this for my sake, shold I think it too much to do any thing for the loue of him? And is the seruaunt better then the maister? Therefore Obliuiō auoid, for it is no paine for me to be here, seeing I doe not suffer any griefe or aduer­sitie: and vnlesse I should do this with a good will or spiritual pleasure, y^e hande of God might fall vpon me: for it is written, Cur­sed is hee who doeth the worke of the Lorde neg­ligenly [Page 85]and carelesly. For hee cannot abide that one shoulde serue or offer the sacrifice of prayse and prayers vnwillingly, but is pleased whē they spring and come out of a ioyful & vnfayned minde. When now this olde and accur­sed wretch is ouercome, then must wee endeuour ourselues to vanquish the other foolishe watching maides, whome the wor­ser they are, of the greater and of more force are their temptations, & assailings: and the lesse they are mor­tified, the vncasier are they to bee rebuked and ouer­throwen. Now when the first whereof I haue spo­ken called Maliciousnes, ac­companied w^t her daugh­ter [Page 86] Wrath, do both assaile me, then I giue them this answere. Charitie is boū ­tifull & patient, and thus with my good intent and meaning my husband, I quite ouerthrowe them. Further, I tell them, al­though y^t mine acquain­tance, who professe great loue and frendshippe to­wardes me, doe offer mee some secret wrong and in­iury, seeing that I deserue and am worthy of more, I am willing to beare it pa­tiently for y^e Loue of God, & perswade my selfe that they greatly fauour mee, that they offer mee not so much as I, (if all thinges were rightly considered off) haue deserued. And this the Lord suffereth for [Page 87]my sins sake, for to make me readie in this worlde, that I might learn to suf­fer some thing in the mean season for his cause. Those whome thou sayest that wish me ill, and do speake ill behind my backe, and cannot abide my sight, they hate not my soule, but my sinnes onely, my faultes and wickednesse, therefore I am bounde to loue them, for their pur­pose and intent is good & goodly. And if I am Gods seruant, I shall soone spy & hate mine owne faults. Wherefore then should I curse or wish any harm to thē, who do that which I would endeuour to do my selfe? I will therefore con­clude, & therewithall driue [Page 88]thee away frō me. Those that do report ill of me, & seeke to hinder mee, are they not my brothers and sisters, and seeing that they be such, am I not cō ­manded to loue, and in no wise to hate them, by force and vertue of the commā ­dement, Loue thy neighbor as thy selfe? And whensoe­uer shee doth assault mee with another of her ser­uauntes called Enuie, who bringeth with her a two edged sworde, commonly termed, Spight at another mans corporall and spiritual vertues. Then I answere her as followeth. But first of all you must know that shee is a venemous and spightful Damsell, for she withereth, consumeth, & [Page 89]killeth her selfe at the pro­speritie and good successe of her neighbour, and re­uiueth againe, and reioy­ceth at their miserie and aduersitie. But nowe to my answere. Thou sayest that others are endued with greater wealth, beauty, and better giftes of nature them I, where­in I doe reioyce and ac­count me the happier, for in this and in the life to come, I desire nor wishe for nothing but for Iesus Christ, who is the Angels and my onely treasure, mine and all creatures beauty, my gaine, and the fountaine of al goodnesse. Therefore let those loue the other things that wil, as for mee I doe thirst af­ter [Page 90]nothing but after Christ and his loue. Fe, there is no exception of y^e rich or poore, of the foule and faire with him, but hee regardeth onely the humblenes and lowlines of the spirite. And thou sayest that others do pos­sesse such and such wealth, and that they receiue great giftes, and I none at all: and I doe say, although they inioy all this, that I possesse, yet much more thē they, for I beare so greate and noble a minde, that I esteeme it a great basenes to settle my heart vppon such meane, vile, & tran­sitory things, as all earth­ly things are. But now I wil ouerthrow thee w^t hu­mility, whereof I beare the [Page 91]name and tel thee that the children of God do freely possesse all these gifts, and many more, & not I that am but a slaue, and not worthy of the least of these thinges. Then she turneth her backe quickly, and presently assaulteth me w^t a spirituall enuie of ano­ther mans goodnes and holines of life, saying, this man is more aduised, more seruent in prayers, quieter, more mortified & soberer then thou art? Whereupon I do answer her & I say: Let vs nowe speak with reason. Wherefore shold I spight at this, seeing they pricke me for­warde to godlinesse, and giue me an occasion to re­ioyce; when I see that my [Page 92]good Lorde and mayster hath such seruantes, who are lo feruent and holy, & do loue him so much with out dissimulation. There­fore the more I am bound to pray, y^t it would please his diuine maiestic to bestowe more giftes and graces upon them, to the end he might be praysed & honoured the more by thē. For if one did loue his mayster, would he not be glad that he were know­en, loued and honoured of all the world, and that he likewise shoulde inrich them with a temporal and spirituall riches and bles­sednes. Auoide therefore thou aceursed and wicked creature, for thou knowest not what charity meanes, [Page 93]seeing thou art the brood of so wicked a damme. Therefore I tell thee far­ther, I would be glad (so that it might bee without the damage of my saluati­on) that my Lorde and God shoulde depriue mee of all these bodily and spi­rituall gifts, wherewith­all I am endued, and be­stow them vppon others, who should use them bet­ter to his glorie then I who am vnworthy of the ground whereon I tread, and most vnthankefully haue entertayned his gra­ces & fauours so aboun­dantly bestowed vppon me. For I desire nothing else then the glorie and praise of my Lord & may­ster, & if it were possible, [Page 94]upon mine own charges, although my selfe shoulde receyue no benefit by it at all. Doest thou not know that our Gob doeth all [...]hings in great wisedom? hee knoweth the vesselles before, whereinto he pou­reth his graces, and be­cause hee knew me to bee vnfit for such fauours, for my vncleannes & prides sake, that woulde bee puft vp with a vain presump­tion of my selfe, mine own workes & vertues, there­fore hath his wisedom not beautified me with them, and yet I am wel conten­ted, and will desire no more then I am able to vse, both to his glorie and mine owne saluation.

The thirteenth Chapter she­weth most manifestly the waies and meanes to o­uercome all manner of wickednesse.

MAliciousnes third daughter, is Sloth­fulnes, who is of a wō ­derfull wic­ked nature, because she is in all spirituall actions which concerne Gob, in whome consisteth all our saluation, very cold, neg­ligent and slothful. And when she beginneth to as­sault me, then I do with­stande her with these ar­mours: In dayrie doest thou seeke thou accursed [Page 96]wretch, to draw me from my prayers and spirituall exercises, and therefore to ouercome thee I will bee more diligente, & zealous in praying, watching & fa­sting, to passe my time in godly contēplations: And whē she seeth that I thus prepare my selfe to the cō ­bate, shee taketh another course with me and saith: Doest thou not see & per­ceiue that thou art altoge­ther without feruency, & that thou shalt praye a­aginst thy stomack, wher­by Gob is rather prouo­ked unto anger, thē ther­by pleased, and rather tempted, then honoured, who both desire to be ser­ued with a burning zeale and ioyful minde, and not [Page 97]with an vnwilling and browsie heart. Wherevp­on I do aunswere as fol­loweth, auoid hence thou brood of Sathan, too wel do I vnderstand thy mean­ning: for thou must know that at such times I doe please God much more, whē I serue him at mine owne charges, then when hee bestoweth a great a­boundance of grace vpon me, for it is an easie thing for him to swimme that is holden vp by the chinne. Dost thou not know that hee withdraweth some­times his graces frō vs: for to trie what we will or are able to doe our selues. And when hee seeth that we doe offer and present vnto him all our abilitie, [Page 98]and do al that lyeth in vs, hee doth then at conueni­ent time through his mer­cie increase our comfort a­gaine: and although we bee depriued of that zeale which wee shoulde haue, yet notwithstanding wee feele alwaies in vs a good will & desire to performe it, and a misliking of that which wee dot: and doest thou aske then, wherefore I doe embolden my selfe to pray, being altogether faint, slow and of no zeale, and moreouer art not a­shamed to say: y^t so doing is to tempt God: I tell thee, if I had yet lesse fer­uencie then I haue: yet I would not be afraid to do this, and woulde present my selfe before my Lorde [Page 99]& say nothing vnto him, nor craue any thing at his hand, but onely stande be­fore him. shewing him honour and reuerence, hoping that he is present, and doth vouchsate to be­hold & regard me, & y^t hee which is the fire of loue, will kindle my hart whē ­soeuer it shall please him. For I will yeelde my selfe altogether into his hands and submitte my will and my self wholly vnto him: and further knowe, the colder and famier I am, the more neede I haue to approche neere to the fire. For if I shoulde go away from it, I should be wor­ser and waxe colder. A­uoid thou hence therefore for I do not set my selfe to [Page 100]pray, or to spirituall con­templations, and other godly exercises, for to re­ceiue thereby comfort on­ly, or because I finde in it a sweet and pleasant tast, but to serue my Lord and God, & besides I know­ing his wil for to do it, ex­ercising my self to the glo­rie of his name in all ver­tue and holines. Nowe when this wicked Dam­sell doth perceyue that she is not able to drawe mee from the loue of my God by these meanes, she tur­neth her aside, and ende­uours to allienate mee from y^t loue of my neigh­bour, by the helpe of these two other foresaide dam­sels, called Ill Suspition, & false or light Iudgement, for [Page 101]to dispise them in my hart and iudge them to be wic­ked, and malicious, lay­ing before my eyes all that which might breede in me some ill suspition of them, for by these meanes to in­tice me to giue a false and rashe iudgement of their doings. And to bring their purpose to better effect, they come accompanied w^t Murmuring, Despising, and Backebiting. But present­ly I aunswere th [...]n as it followeth: it doeth not become a slaue suspect ill of his betters, sinners should not touch sacred things, I must e­steeme euery bodie to bee good and holy, and ac­count my self to be wicked and a sinner, not knowing [Page 102]what euery man may bee in the sight of God, or els what his latter ende will be. But as concerning my selfe, I know whom and what I am, and to what end the feelt of my desires Wickednesse and Vngodli­nes woulde bring & carrie mee, namely into hell, it y^t mercy of God came not to aide or assist me. There­fore I haue inough to doo with my selfe, and to see whether my thoughtes, doodes, and conscience bee good, for I know my selfe and not other men. As concerning others, I wil take and chuse the surest, which is to thinke well of them all, wherewith I shall loose nothing, but may profite and aduance [Page 103]much. For it is daunge­rous to refuse the certain­ty for the vncertainty: and charity thinketh no harm. Moreouer, who hath or­deyned mee a Iudge be­tweene God & my neigh­bour? betweene him and his conscience? truely no body. Therefore auoide, the iudgement hereof be­longeth to God onely, for it is hee that seeth the in­ward? thoughts, and tri­eth euery mans reynes & secrets. Moreouer Ill Sus­pition, proceedeth from y^t Diuell, and is quite con­trary to brotherly vnitie, and causeth great strife a­mongst friendes, which a man may finde to bee true by daylie experience: for if a husband taketh an euill [Page 104]suspition against his wife, and she doeth perceiue it, although she had been be­fore the honestest of all her goodly neighbours, shee wil quickly turne her cha­stitie into all manner of wickednes and disloyalty. For it is most true that Se­neca saith: Ill suspition hath caused many men to sinne. What although they haue erred, perhaps they are fallen through weaknes, or els through great temp­tations, but notwithstan­ding all this, I shoulde not therefore hate them, or els giue a light iudgment of their doings, but for the Loue of God shoulde turn all things to the best, should suffer, pittie, and haue compassion on them. [Page 105]And if thou wilt not yet graunt mee this, then I tell thee that it is Gods iustice and iudgement, whose prouidence doth bring all thinges to passe, which in no wise wee are able to comprehende: and in such sort, that euē as he neuer ceaseth to doe good vnto vs, so he permitteth these faultes, and turneth them (although they are euill) to the aduantage & profite of those that are fallen, or els of theirs that do behold them. Therfore trouble mee no more, for he that taketh vppon him to iudge other men, pre­sumeth vppon the title of God, and remember what happened to thy father, when he would haue been [Page 106]like vnto God, and there­fore I haue reason to take warning by his & others mishap, and misfortune, & to haue a speciall eye to mine owne actions and doings.

the xiiij. Chapter endeth the exercises of Ladie Humilitie.

DEsire being stroken in a maze at Lady Humilities words said: Now first I do vnderstand that, which long agone I haue heard my auncestors tell, but yet neuer had any tri­all of it, namely that Hu­militie [Page 107]conteyneth and cō ­prehendeth all manner of vertues, Iustice Peace, Ioy▪ spirituall and tem­porall comfort. Therfore I pray your Ladiship to resolue mee of one doubt which troubleth me not a little, as touching this matter. Whether you doo know alwayes these wic­ked Damsels, when they come in disguised apparel or vnder the colour of godlines, for we do reade, that they are able to trans­form themselues into An­gels of light, whereby ea­sily they may deceiue the simple, and such idiots as I am. Ah my welbelo­ued sonne, quoth Humili­ty, this is a great point. Therefore to resolue thee [Page 108]herein, thou must knowe y^e God hath put a Lampe in the midst of our Cham­ber, called Good consciēce, which burneth day and night with the oyle of his mercy: and is kindled with a wike of the holie Scriptures, & hangeth to it a string called Care of the mind, being fastned at a naile called Care of inclina­tion. And as long as this Lampe doth burne and is kindled, then wee neede not to feare them, for wee can spie them quickly. And although they come as dis­guised as they may, yet we know them by their going, for they are crooked mishapen, and are lame, and do halt, so that they cannot for their liues go [Page 109]straight and vpright. But my son, when this Lamp is put our, by our owne negligence: or y^t the nayle falleth out by our idle­nes, or els that the string breaketh, or that God w^t ­draweth his Oyle (which he neuer doth before wee doo first spill it willingly) then we remaine in dark­nesse, and nothing doth prosper with vs. And therefore we pray to God alwaies, that it woulde please hun to lighten our Lampe, and doe say with the Prophete Dauid, O Lorde thou art my guide, lighten mee therefore in darkenesse. The Lorde graunt you his grace and mercy, quoth Desire, for you haue comforted my [Page 110]troubled mind. Take thē said Humility, these Ladies whom I shall aopoint, in thy companie, vntill thou be sufficiently armed with a True feare, for the foresaid wicked Damsels will en­deuour themselues to draw thee perforce againe out of our handes, Here is Fortitude, against the first called Concupiscence of the flesh. Earnestnesse a­gainst Concupiscéce of the eyes. The second, Humi­litie, against Price of life. The third, Watchfulnes, a­gainst, Slothfulnes. The fourth Bountifulnesse, a­gainst Maliciousnes. And so the Lord haue thee in his keeping.

The fifteenth Chapter in­treateth of the Ver [...]ues of Lady Humilities d [...]ughters.

By these means said Humilitie, with the helpe and grace of God, & mine owne endenour, I van­quish and ouerthrowe all my enemies. Desire did receyue a great comforte by his soueraigns words, and said, I pray your La­dishippe giue me leaue to go visite these Damselles, for to come acquainted w^t them. Go in the name of God aunswered shee this leaue I giue thee most willing­ly. [Page 112]And thou my Stew­ard, go thou with him, & bring him acquainted w^t all the housholde. And herewithall Desire depar­ted most ioyfully out of his Soueraignes cham­ber, accompanied with y^e foresaide Lady, who was Steward of the house, cal­led Esteeme nothing. Who brought him presently in­to y^e chamber of Humilities eldest daughter, called Confession of sins, who did entertain him most frend­ly, and being bidden to sit by her, began to speake. I pray you Lady y^t it may please you to tell me your estate, conditions, and manners. I aunswered she, am Humilities eldest daughter, and a scholler to [Page 113]this damsel our Steward and do greatly delight in her company, acknow­ledging and confessinge alwayes whome I am, & such as I esteeme my selfe to be. Desire presently did marke, that this Lady was of a great contenance and very bountiful, be­cause she shewed her selfe to be an enemie to all vain glory, and idlenes, and herewithall, did take his leaue of her. And being departed from thence, his guide brought him to the Chamber of Lady Humi­lities second daughter, cal­led Desire to bee dispised, who did receiue him like­wise most cu [...]teously, and sitting downe by her, said: I pray you Lady to tel me [Page 114]your name, & condition. I am called, said she, De­sire to be despised, contem­ned, and nothing esteemed of? This did greatly a­maze Desire, hearing that she was so desirous to be dispised and contemned, seeing that it was quite contrary to euery mans nature and condition: yet notwithstanding, did ac­count and esteeme her a very vertuous and godly Damsell, because shee did it for the Loue of God. And herewithall did take his leaue of her also, and went with the Stewarde his guide to Humilities thirde daughters Chamber, who was called Glad to be despised, who entertai­ned him likewise with a [Page 115]cheerefull countenance, & as he sat downe, sayd vn­to her. I pray you Ladie to tell me your name and conditions: I aunswered she, do reioyce to be dispi­sed, contemned, iniured, & mocked at, and this for y^e Loue of God. Desire did maruaile at her vertuous disposition, and saide: I pray you to teach mee the means whereby I might attaine to your vertues, for I find this, which you haue to bee quite repug­naunt to mine owne na­ture: for when I am iniu­red, contemned, dishono­red, and nothing esteemed of, then I grudge and waxe angrie at it. This doth happen said she, be­cause thou hast notyet em­braced [Page 116] Humilitie, who doeth comprehende to e­steeme nothing of her self, and for the Loue of God to despise her selfe: but it is a sure and certaine token that thou art full of Selfe­loue, Pride, and Ambition. Yet because God hath brought thee here in the house, we will teach and instruct thee in all kind of vertues, and pull from thee this thicke and filthie skin, and transforme thee [...]nto a new shape, and pre­pare thee, that thou maist come to the speech of the Loue of God. Therefore if thou wilt attaine to my vertues, first of all thou must imbrace my seconde [...]ister, called Desire to be dis­pised, oftentimes remem­bring [Page 117]and speaking to thy selfe. Hereafter I wilbe despised and contemned, & not grudge, when I am mocked at, iniured & be­lied. And when thou hast attayned vnto this, then shalt thou be feruent in prayer, and with great la­bour, not at the first, but by little and little obtaine this vertue, whereof I do beare the name. And although this will fall something hard vnto thee at the first, because thou shalt be forced to striue a­gainst thine owne nature, yet shalt thou with con­stancie ouercome all diffi­cultie, insomuch that thou shalt at the last reioyce, when they shall eyther in wordes or deedes, offer [Page 118]thee, any wrong or iniury. Therefore force thy selfe to beare patiently all shame, contempt & despising, for thou must knowe y^t none is iust vnles he be hūble, and grudgeth not to bee despised, iniured, & moc­ked at. wherevpon Desire did aunswere, and said, I doo maruell that he shold be vniust, who doeth mis­like and grudgeth at these thinges? for there are few to be found y^• then are iust, therefore I think y^• you do mistake your selfe in this point. Not so sayd she, and therefore I will in­struct thee in this doc­trine. First thou canst not deny, that hee is iust, who doth desire to giue and to receiue of euery man his [Page 119]right. And thou knowest that vnto man appertay­neth nothing but con­tempt and mockery, be­cause hee is more vilder then any other creature, for his great and abhomi­nable sinnes: and therfore I conclude, that hee who grudgeth to receiue his due is vniust.

Furthermore thou canst not deny, that all good thinges shold be beloued, sought for, and esteemed of, and so much the more, the more that they exceede in goodnesse. And contra­riwise, that euery euill thing should be hated, de­spised, & suppressed. And it is most certaine, that e­uery man is naught and wicked, because God one­ly [Page 120]is good, and therefore it followeth, that hee with reason should be dispised, scorned, and hated, because it is his due and right.

The sixteenth Chapter shew­eth, that all thinges which God hath created are good, and howe this title Good, belongeth onely vnto him.

BEhold said Desire, I am not yet sufficientlie satisfied w^t these your argumentes, where with you doe seeke to prone, y^t God onely is good, and all that, that is not God shoulde bee naught. For [Page 121]your conclusions do disa­gree with the holy scrip­ture, where shee witnes­seth, that when God did beholde all that hee had made and created, founde it not onely to bee good, but perfecte and without fault. Further, seeing that God is good (being our cheefest felicitte, and of all that there was created, the efficient and onely cause) consequently it must fol­lowe, that all which hee hath created should be ex­ceeding good, because the worke shoulde be answe­rable to the excellency of y^t workman, for not to stain his skil and cunning And seeing that man is y^e most noblest & excellentest crea­ture of all visible thinges, [Page 122]therefore hee is not good onely, but exceedeth in goodnes, and by conse­quent, according to your owne argumente, to him belongeth all honor, loue, and obedience. I will not answered the damsell, dis­pute with thee any longer, but I will more at large, declare and expound vnto thee these thinges, to the end thou maiest the better vnderstand them. Thou must know y^t God onely is good, (as y^t Gospel be­ing the onely truth doeth witnesse) which is thus to be vnderstood. That God in his essence and nature is good onely, & that it is proper to him to be good, and al that God hath cre­ated is good, but by parti­cipation [Page 123]of his goodnesse. Therefore when the crea­ture doth consider the vn­speakeable goodnesse of God, and wayeth his be­nefites and graces, besto­wed vppon her, shee will yeeld all honour and obe­dience that is due to his Maiestie. And this tur­neth to Godwarde, and not the creatures. And in this sort ought we to loue our selues & all creatures, because wee were all good in our first creation: and therefore man shall not seeke to bee honoured and reuerenced for his owne sake, but for the goodnesse of God participated vnto him: and becau [...]e he is the handie [...]wo [...]ke and crea­ture of God, shall attri­bute [Page 124]onely vnto him all his goodnes, and not to himself or to his owne in­dustrie. For th [...]re is great difference in that hee hath receiued of God, and in that he hath of his owne: from God hee hath that which is good in nature, but from himselfe that which is euill: for by him he doeth carry his image and likenesse alwayes in him: but by himselfe, through his wicked and vngodly life, doeth deface it, and becommeth altoge­ther vnlike him, delight­ing in nothing by nature, but in that which is con­trary to God, and his first creation. And hereout may we perceiue that we shoulde honour and loue [Page 125]that which man hath in him of God, namely, his good nature, condition, & all kinde of vertue. But shoulde hate and detest in him all that he hath of his own, namely his wicked­nesse, filthines and sinne, in such sort that wee shall in sundrie meanings, and to sundrie endes, honour or despise, loue or hate a man. And how holy or vertuous so euer a man is, yet must he know and confesse that hee hath no­thing of himselfe, but all manner of wickednesse, & shall therefore desire, that the honour and praise of goodnesse shall onely re­dound to God, from whō all goodnes floweth. But as much as concerneth [Page 126]his wickednesse being his owne, shall wish onely to bee dispised, contemned, discredited, and dishonou­red for it. And whensoe­uer he shall doe this, then shall hee bee iust. And if a holie, good, and vertuous man doeth not grudge, & is desirous to be dispised, why should a sinner then account it iniustice and vndecent to haue such a desire, but contrariwise would bee honoured and esteemed of although they had deserued it. There­fore no sinner shall per­swade himselfe that hee doth much when hee desi­reth to be thus despised & disdained, seeing a holy, vertuous, and iust man, is bound in duty and con­science [Page 127]to desire it.

The seuenteenth chapter in­treateth of the same words.

THe wordes of the Damosell did greatlie please Desire & said, I praye you that it may please you to tell the means, wherby I might further and ob­tayne this holy desire. Two meanes there are, aunswered the Ladie, the first is the Loue of God, the second a godly minde, and whēsoeuer thou wilt take my counsel it will greatly further thee to the attay­ning of this my vertue. Most willingly, answered [Page 128] Desire, I wil take it: make account then, and fully per [...]wade thy selfe said the Damsell, that the Loue of God, whom thou desirest and louest so much, hath no greater enemy, nor one who offereth hun more wrong and iniury, & more resisteth him then thine owne fleshe. Therefore take this for an vse and custome, to speake euery morning to thy soule as followeth.

Let me see, O my soule, how thou wilt hate this day thy rebellious fleshe, mortall enemie to thy cre­ator, Lorde, and louing spouse Iesus Christ, and what meanes thou wilt vse to despise and vexe it: And again in the euening [Page 129]shalt thou say this vnto her. Let vs examine now my foule, howe thou hast hated this day thy vile bo­die enemie to thy onely Lorde and Sauiour, and hast sought by all meanes to dishonour it, chasten it, and vexe it, and how dili­gent thou hast beene to hinder it of his owne wil, and in all thinges to per­secute it. And brother, whensoeuer thou wilt go about to do this, and with a stedfast desire to hate thy Lordes and thine owne soules enemic, then will this exercise bring and ad­naunce thee to a high de­gree of humilitie, and by little and little worke in thee a perfection of all vertues: so that shortlie [Page 130]after thou shalt detest thy selte, hate & vanquish thy owne rebellious will and fleshe. And whensoeuer any body doth vse thee so, then take holde of mee, and of my vertues, and herem greatly also reioy­cing, say: Praised and blessed: bee the Lorde my God, who giues me now meanes to bee reuenged vppon mine enemies. De­sire receiued great comfort by this damsels wordes, and with great and hum­ble thankes, hauing takē leaue of her, was brought by his guide into another of Ladie Humilities daughters chambers, called Sin­ceritie or Simplicitie, who likewise receiued & enter­tamed him most trendly, [Page 131]and curteously placing him, next to her side, be­gan to speake of God, and of heauenly and spirituall matters. Wherevpon De­sire did pray the Damsell, that it would please her to tell him her name. My name is Simplicity, answe­red shee, and with euery man I deale plainely and without deceite, vsing no dissimulation in any of my actions or doinges, & all that I heare or see, doe alwaies conster it to the best: for I thinke euery man to be as I am: at the least as much as concern­eth his mind, I thinke no harm of any man, but on­ly of my selfe, for I haue alwates an euill suspition of my selfe, hauing an eye [Page 132]continually vpon all my thoughtes and desires being very circumspect & carefull to eschew y^t traps and snares of the wicked, that by these meanes I might waxe strong and increase in my mother Humilities vertues. How, answered Desire, can you not bee vertuous vnlesse you be thus carefull? No said she, for Simplicitie w^t ­out Wisedome is worth little or nothing, and hin­dereth more then it pro­fiteth: for the Loue of God loueth none but those which walke wisely and circumspectly in all his waies.

The eight Chapter intrea­teth of Sincerities man­ners and condi­tions.

I pray you good Lary (quoth Desire) to tell me ho [...] you deale vpright and s [...]cecely with euery [...]. In three things an­swered she, in thoughtes, wordes, and d [...]edes. First of al I will not cast my thought vppon matters which do passe my vnder­standing or capacitie, nor seeke to purchase honour, dignitie or prouiotions of this world, which are but vaine and transitorie, al­waies thinking my selfe [Page 134]to be the worst amongst al reasonable creatures, and the vnworthiest of all Gods seruāts, esteeming all others to be holy, good, and replenished with hea­uenly graces & vertues. Secondly, I will not vse any flattering or deceitfull words, to intrappe there­with my brother, but on­ly I, no, for all things els are wicked, & spring out of the roote of vanitie and [...] ­dlenes. Thirdely, I re­fraine my selfe from vain, fleshly, and worldly acti­ons, and endeuour to doe that onely which is sim­ple, plaine and prosiable, thereby to eschue Vanitie, & Partialitie, which [...]ight cause and worke my cuine and ouerthrowe: for to [Page 135]go alwaies roundly and plainly to worke, it main­tayned the mind in humi­litie, whereof the contrary is full of feare and danger. wherefore is the contrary thus perillous? qd Desire, thou must know that my mother hath giuē me two iewels or precious stones to keepe, which I haue here in my Closet, the one called Chastity, and the o­ther Innocencie, which are of such valour, price and estimation, that none is a­ble to giue the worth for them. For we doe direct all our actions by these two iewelles, euen as the Marriner doth his shippe by the compasse, endeuou­ring euery day to get thē, & hauing gotten thē surely [Page 136]to keepe them. And when­soeuer Curiositie, Vanitie, or Partialite, are suffered to enter through the doore of our harte, mouth, eyes or eares: they they serue by all means to steale thē away and depriue vs of these iewelles. And there­fore whosoeuer doeth not direct all his thoughtes, wordes, and deeds, to ge [...] and keep [...] them, deserueth to be esteemed worse then a foole. What will you [...]o said Desire, with these iewelles, for it is a token of couetousnes, to possesse such needlesse and super­fluous riches, as iewelles and precious stones bee, where you see so many poore almost ready to starue for want of foode & [Page 137]maintaynance. Not so quoth she, for thou doest mistake my wordes. And although that in the loue and desire of possessing wealth, riches, and world­ly goodes, after the intent and meaning of the posses­sor or owner thereof, ma [...] consist couetousnes, fraud and guile: yet notwith­standing there can bee no deceite or auarisiousnesse in possessinge of these iewelles, whereof I haue spoken, because wee doe desire and keepe them to serue and please there­with the Loue of God, and to honour him herewith, when hee vouchsafeth to visite vs. Other riches eyther perish by wormes, or consume with rust, or [Page 138]weare with time, because they are earthly, and com­mon to euery man. But those that are hidden in y^e harte, no mustines, rust, worme, or tune can con­sume them, because they are common to none but to such as doe possesse thē. Dow, quoth Desire, if hee who doeth possesse them, did discourse and make a show of them, would they not consume then, as o­ther riches doe? No said she, for when he doeth dis­couer them to bee seene, then hee doeth not possesse them any longer, for who­soeuer doeth inioy them, doeth not thinke that hee doeth possesse them, but doeth alwaies endeuour himselfe and trauaileth to [Page 139]get and to attaine vnto them. For our God doeth oftentimes bestowe these iewelles vppon him that doth not know them, and is ignorant of the possessiō thereof, because that our Presumption and Selfe loue which lyeth hidden in our hartes, shoulde not steale them away. Therefore he that doeth possesse them, keepes them as secret as may the pos­sible.

The nineteenth Chapter she­weth, what thinges that mayntaine sinceritie or Simplicitie.

THe wordes of this Damsell did please De­sire, & sayd, by what meanes might one best keepe then these iewelles? one thing aunswered she is most requisite and neces­sary to those that are new begin [...]ers, and not alto­gether vnprofitable to the long continuers, which is to flie & to shutte doores and windowes, for to haunt and frequen many mens companies, and to heare and see much, are [Page 141]ready waies to lose and to be depriued of them, be­cause our soule is as a looking glasse, which ea­sily receuieth all figures and likenesses which are brought before it: and is like vnto waxe which re­tayneth the print & marke of any thing put vppon it. How is it possible, quoth Desire, to flie and to shutte all the gates and win­dowes for hun that dwel­leth in a congregation or companie of many? for he is constrained to go often­times hether and thether for to dispatch his busi­nes, besides it is both de­cent and godly to be affa­ble and curteous to euery man, for not to fall in the vice of selfe-loue or Partia­litie, [Page 142]which is to bee ab­horred and to be detested, although it seemeth to carrie a faire shine or co­lour of vertue and godli­nes. It is true answered she, but neuerthelesse the Loue of God commandeth vs that we should be cir­cumspect in all our acti­ons, and doe nothing but by necessitie according to the greatnes of our af­faires, and to bee carefull alwaies for these iewels, which we haue in our cu­stody, that we do not lose them. How must we then behaue our selues, quoth Desire, for to doe as much as lieth in vs? It is need­full answered she, that hee who is not able for his busines sake to keepe him [Page 143]from company, indange­ring hereby greatly the looimg of these two iew­els Chastitie and Innocency should alwaies take me at his side, and whensoeuer he shall bee in my compa­nie, then he needeth not to feare, that hee shall loose them, although he should trauel through al y^e world. I pray you, quoth Desire, that it may please you to instruct me by some com­parison, that I might the better conceiue it, and the simple and idiot people y^e better vnderstand it, for to carrie it away in their me­mories the more easier. Knowe then, aunswered Sinceritie, whosoeuer is desirous to keep Chastitie and Innocencie (being two [Page 144]of the best meanes to ver­tue, and y^e readiest waies to come to the last, y^e Loue of God, who comprehen­deth all perfection of Cha­ritie) must flie and shutte doores and windowes. And if it be not possible for him to doe it, let him vse me then, in all his actions and put mee in his right eye, that whensoeuer his left eie of Concupiscence, of rash or foolish iudgement, will desire to see or iudge any thing, let him direct her to his right eye of sin­ceritie, considering with himselfe earnestly, that e­uery man or woman are Angelles, and children of the Lorde, who continu­ally without ceasing doe laude & praise their Crea­tor, [Page 145]Likewise whatsoeuer he shall heare or see of his neighbour, his right eye shall excuse it, and amend it. And whensoeuer his left eye of Concupiscence, shall seeke to drawe him to the loue and desire of a­ny Creature, let him pre­sently beholde his right eye, which will send him to the remembring & con­sideration of the beauty, goodnesse, and other per­fections of his Creator, which will cause him to loue the creature, for no other cause but that shee doth loue, laud, and praise with him her God and Creator. And therefore it were most requisite, that he should vse me like­wise in all his words and [Page 146]communications. When quoth Desire, doeth a man all things with Sinceritie? when his minde, answe­red she, is simple, vpright, and sincere, so that his wordes and deedes be al­waies correspondent, and all his actions reasonable and without dissimulati­on. Hauing alwaies a speciall regard that all his doinges may redound to the glorie & praise of God, his soules health and sal­uation, and to the profite of his neighbour: and this doing is in all thinges to walk with Sinceritie, and he goeth sure and without daunger, whosoeuer ta­keth her alwayes in his companie.

The twentith Chapter in­treateth of Pouertie, one of Ladie Humi­lities daugh­ters.

DEsire hauing receiued great comforte out of Sincerities words, tooke his leaue of her, and his guide brought him to a­nother of Ladie Humilities daughters, called Pouerty. who bidding him wel­come, did pray him to sit downe by her side. Desire seeing the great courtesie of the Ladie, said, that hee was very glad of her cō ­pany, because he did per­ceiue that shee esteemed [Page 148]much of the Loue of God, and therefore did aske her name, and prayed her to tell him her manners and conditions. My name, quoth she is Pouertio. And for the Loue of God, I doe not possesse nor care for a­nye worldly thinges. wherein, quoth Desire, take you then your ioy and all your comforte? My chiefest treasure, an­swered she, wealth, and riches, ioy and comforte consisteth, to forbeare all things for y^e Loue of God. I doe greatly maruaile of this, quoth Desire, for I was tolde, that this pal­lace was builded, by the most noblest, richest, and most bountifullest knight of the earth, wherefore [Page 149]doth he suffer then so poore and needie people to dwel in it? For I cannot con­ceiue what profite or gain hee receiueth by your po­uertie, need, and necessitie. I will tell it thee, answe­red she. The Landlord & the founder of this house, is Lord and King of all y^e earth, hauing al her riches and wealth in his hand & power, and yet it is his will and pleasure, that we should bee poore, because we shoulde not settle our heart vpon any thing, but vpon him onely, for hee is able inough to giue vs all things aboundantly. But these whom he loueth, he doeth giue them none of this earthly felicitie, be­cause they shoulde onely [Page 150]desire and loue him, and hate this transitorie and deceitfull worlde. The greatest token and wit­nes which we can haue of his loue towardes vs, is when hee doeth not com­fort vs in this wretched worlde, or bestoweth on vs all, that our flesh and lust doth craue and desire. Moreouer he doeth sende vs pouertie, because wee should not bee too pensiue and carefull for the goods and riches of this worlde, but that wee should serue him with an vnfayned minde and a ioyfull spi­rite, and not lightly for a­ny worldly thinges, gaine or losse, prosperitie or ad­uersitie, receiue a vaine ioy, or discomforte, but [Page 151]that our hearts should al­waies in rest and quiet, without perturbations or discorde, bee vnited with God our creator and Sa­uiour. For the Loue of God is of such tender and gentle nature, that he can not dwell but in a quiet, cleaue, & peaceable place. which is your cheefest vertue, quoth Desire, my cheefest vertue is, answe­red Pouertie, to frame and conforme my selfe to the godly and vertuous con­uersation of the children of God, whose company I gladly do frequent. And although my desire is, for to haue nothing yet for to shut out a wild bore who doeth destroy all our gar­den, called Partialitie or Ex­ceptions [Page 152]of persons, my mother hath ordained that I should liue as the other of my sisters do. But be­cause I shold not lose the rewarde of my vertue, she hath married me to a holy mind, called to desire no­thing: this quoth Desire, in my iudgement, is to de­sire more then to be good, or more then wee do owe or are bounde vnto, for I do perswade my selfe that your Landlorde doeth counsell you rather to the pouertie of the spirite, thē to that of the boly, and y^e prophet saith, if thy goods and wealth doeth increase set not thy heart vpon it: Therefore I esteeme that y^e vertue of pouertie doth not consist in possessing [Page 153]little or much, but in the hart and mind of the pos­sessor. It is true, quoth she, that the vertue of po­uertie consisteth in the spi­ritie, yet for y^e Loue of God to forbeare these thinges it is a precious vertue, & worthy of great praise & commendation. For our loue and desire is so much enclined to the beauty and comelines of these earthly thinges, that hardely we can possesse them, without fixing our whole minde vpon them. And because they should not draw vs away frō the loue which wee beare to God, which commonly is very small, it is good and wisely done to take the flaxe from the fire, and to remoue & pre­uent [Page 154]all occasions of mis­chiefe, as much as lyeth in vs. For the loue of God wil haue all the heart and can abide no partner: and take of this an example of our Sauiour himselfe, who could haue possessed all y^e wealth of this world, & that without to set his minde vpon it. But be­hold I pray thee how poor hee and all his Apostles were. What doth this els signifie, but that we shold abstain from these things which are so dangerous & draw many y^t doe possesse thē into euerlasting paine and damnation.

The twentie one Chapter intreateth of Obedi­ence.

DEsire was like­wise comforted by this Dam­sell, and tooke his leaue of her. And his guide brought him to an other of Lady Humilities daughters, called Obedi­ence, whom he greatly did reuerence, for her counte­naunce and outwarde ap­paraunce did showe, that she was of great dignitie and more esteemed of, by the Loue of God, then any of her sisters were. And when he did offer to kisse her handes, shee woulde [Page 156]not suffer it, for shee was one of Ladie Humilityes daughters, and sought not after Honour and Promotion. But she bad him to sit downe by her wherevpon Desire did in­quire her name and con­ditions. My name, quoth the Lady, is Obedience, & I am married to a hus­band called to leaue no­thing vndone, who is a ve­ry valiant, and renowned Knight, and hee onely is able to ouerthrowe this feareful and terrible beast, ranging thus in y^e world. called selfe-will. Which beast doth deuour all those that follow and loue him, and causeth through his sweet whistling, al the vn­godly to follow him, and [Page 157]fewe doe leaue him before hee hath brought them to eternall destruction. But euery body flieth away from mee, although it bee most true, that without me, none can get and ob­taine the Loue of God. And seeing that God hath gi­uen me so good a husband, therefore I doe nothing but that hee commandeth me: Likewise I craue no­thing at his handes but necessaries: and I neuer do go about any thing a­lone for feare of theefes, for here are many, and hide themselues, so that I can­not see them. Who goeth then with you, quoth De­sire, first aunswered shee a trustie dogge, called Good wil, and my sister Sincerity, [Page 158]and my daughters, Fore­sight, Mirth, Diligence, and Chastity, and before all things my mother Humi­litie will alwaies accom­panie me: all these must I needes take with mee for to goe sure, and with­out daunger, and for to do those thinges which are commanded me. I praye you quoth Desire, to tell me in what sort your mo­ther Humilitie is alwaies with you in all thinges which you take in hande: for I cannot well vnder­stande it. Of all thinges which I doe, aunswered shee, although they were the greatest of the worlde, I thinke not once that I haue done any goodnesse, nor set my trust or confi­dence [Page 159]vpon them, nor doe exalt my self for them, nor perswade my selfe that o­thers are not able to doe the like or better, nor doe desire that any man shold praise mee, although I should seem to haue done great wonders: but hum­bly I do thanke the Lord, that it hath pleased his goodnesse to giue and be­stow vpon me this know­ledge, wisedome, & grace, to doe this for the loue of him: and thinke, because God hath granted me the grace for to do this there­in hath made me more be­holden vnto him, & there­fore am altogether vn­willing that any shoulde doe otherwise but laude & praise God for it. And as [Page 160]cōcerning my self, I desire nothing but pain and tra­uaile till my last end, and that my Lorde God may receiue thereof, the prayse and thanks, & my neigh­bour the gaine and profit: And therfore I desire no­thing for all my doinges, because I knowe that I meryte nor deserue no­thing. Praying God one­ly that it may please him to graunt me his loue, that thereby I might bee the more vertuous in all my actions, for neuer to of­fend him, and that it may please him to be vnto mee a fauourable and merciful God in y^e houre of death: as I hope and faithfully put my trust in him.

The two and twentith Chap­ter intreateth of Cha­stity.

DEsire taking leaue of La­dy Obedy­ence, went his wayes, being greatly comforted by her: and his guide brought him to another of Lady Humili­ties daughters chamber, called Chastitie, who like­wise entertayned him most frendly, and bad him to sit downe. Wherevp­on Desire did aske her name, and of what nature and conditions shee was. I am quoth shee, one of Humilities daughters, and [Page 162]I haue two maide [...] at­tendant vppon mee, the first called Continency, the seconde Shametastnes, and my name is called the Sur­uiour of the hart. Who hath likewise a daughter sur­named the keeper of the sences. I pray you quoth Desire to showe mee this maiden, willingly quoth she, her own name is Vir­ginity. Desire did greatly maruaile at the costly and straunge apparell of the maid. For first of all shee held a bridle in her hande, a stone and a white lawne with a chaine and a pad­locke therevnto. And De­sire said, I pray you sister to let mee vnderstande what all these thinges do meane. This bridle, quoth [Page 163]shee serueth for to came a wild beast, and although it is very small, yet trou­bleth vs not a little: For if it slips once away, it thro­weth euery one of vs downe, and there is none then that can rule it, but our Porter called The fear of God. Now do you cal this wilde beast, said De­sire. It is called answe­red she, the tongue. And what doe you with this stone demaunded Desire: This stone serueth quoth shee, to stoppe vp a gappe which is in our house, cal­led the eares, for to keepe out theeues, that they en­ter not through it as they doe many times. Some times I doe put it in my mouth, because I [Page 164]shoulde not speake, for it greatly pleased the Loue of God, sometimes to refrain his speech. What seruice quoth Desire, doth the Loue of God receiue of you by thus doing? Great ser­uice answered shee, for by this dore one looseth these two precious stones whereof Ladye Sinceritie hath spoken of before: And wherto serueth this white lawne, quoth Desire. To stoppe vp the left eye, sayd she, and it is called Hate of Vncleannes. And do you not couer your right eye, demanded Desire, no saide she, for it belongeth to Sin­ceritie, who doth beautifie it with al manner of good­nesse and vertuousnesse. But this left eye which [Page 165]serueth Sensualitie, hath a very sharpe sight, and spi­eth any thing sooner then the right eye, and doth vs much hurte, for it causeth death: and therefore it is necessary that it should be couered with this lawne, to the end wee might be­hold, and see in all things with y^e purenes of minde, for to become edified ther­by, to the honour & praise of God, and to the edify­ing of our brother. But to what vse serueth this chaine with a padlocke hanging at it. This chain is called, quoth she, Medi­ocrity, and serueth to chain vp our doores, for to keep out theeues, and likewise to keepe all in good order in the house, if it were not [Page 166]for this locke and chayne, we shoulde haue no order in any thing, but a confu­sion which should cause & procure our destruction & ouerthrow.

The three & twentith chap­ter is a conclusion of the first book.

WHen Desire had beene a while in Chastityes com­pany, at the last taking his leaue of her, de­parted w^t humble thanks, being likewise greatly cō ­forted by her words. And his guide leading hun out of y^t house, saide vnto him, nowe thou hast seene all y^t house, & the Ladies there­in [Page 167]dwelling, and whenso­euer thou doest remember al that thou hast seene and heard here amongst vs, & put it diligently in execu­tion and practise, thē thou hast enough to finde out y^e Loue of God. But yet I wil shew th [...] a tree which standeth in our Barden. Desire being come into y^e Garden and hauing seene the tree, did maruel great­ly at the beautie thereof, & chiefly because hee carried two sūdry sorts of fruits, inquiring what they were for fruites: the fruites which growe vppon the lowest boughs quoth she, which are thus pale and without colour, as thou seest, are called Discoufi­dence in himselfe, and those [Page 168]that grow vpon the high­est branches, which haue a golden and vermiliō hue, are called Confidence in God, and this is the chief­est fruite that those must feede vpon, who do resort hither. And if they eat not hereof, all their labour is lost, and in vaine is their comming into this place. will you not giue me som of these fruites towardes my iourney, quoth Desire, most willingly quoth she, but first fill thy bellie with the fruites of the lowest boughes, and then thy pockette and sleeues with those that grow vpon the highest brannches, to eate them by the way, til thou cōmest into the Pallace of the Loue of God. Desire [Page 169]was glad that hee had ea­ten w^t so good a stomacke of the lower fruites, and had filled his bellie with them, and afterwarde did fil his sleeues, bosome and pockette with the highest fruites, and saide vnto the Dainsel: I pray you shew me the neerest and readiest way, which I must keepe for to finde out the Loue of God. I am glad quoth y^t Damsell, that I see thee thus well furnished, and prouided for thy iourney, going to seek out the Loue of God, yet I feare mee, if thou shouldest go alone, that thou shouldest not finde the right way, there­fore I will appoint thee some good company that shall conducte and bring [Page 170]thee in safetie to thy iour­nies ende. Nowe, quoth Desire, haue I not compa­nye sufficient enough of my dog? called Good Will, No, said shee, hee woulde not suffice although hee were twice better then he is. For in the way there are not only a great com­pany of theeues, murthe­rers, and robbers, who sease vppon men and rob them, but also many wild beastes, who doo altoge­ther denour them, if they doe catch them: therefore it is good not to trust too much vpon thy dog See­ing it is so, quoth hee, as you say: shew me so much fauour as to appoint mee such cōpany as you thinke to be needeful and meet for [Page 171]me. Lake therefore said [...] she, the Porter with thee called the Feare of God, for he is a strong and valiant man. And if thou wilt y^t he forsakes thee not, make much of his daughter cal­led Shamefastnes. And like­wise if thou wilt not loose her, keepe this sweet pou­der alwayes about thee, called Looke downe warde, for she delighteth greatly in the smell thereof. And the other whom I do ap­point thee, is sinceritie. And so the Lorde bee with thee, and haue thee in his keeping. But before thou goest, I must admonish & instruct thee of one thing, which is, if peraduenture thou shouldst com to leese the Feare of God and since­ritie, [Page 172]at the least look well to thy Dogge, for he shall find them out againe, and looke that thou feede hun well with those fruites which thou hast in thy pocket & about thee. And when thou goest hence take the waye which lieth on the left hand, and there shalt thou find a foot path which is a great deale noe­rer then the high way, & will directly bring thee to y^e Pallace of Loue, where the Loue of God dwelleth. How is this footpath cal­led quoth Desire, that I might inquire of it, If I hapned to misse the way, and come in y^e right path againe. It is called said she, Patience, which is the nearest way to the Pal­lace [Page 173]of Humilitie, and like­wise to that of the Loue of God.

The first Chapter intreateth of Patience.

DEsire parted merely frō the pallace of Humility, hauing fil­led his bel­ly with the sru [...]tes of the Garden thereof, and was [Page 174]well prouided with good companie, namely, with his Dogge Good-wil. And [...] his one side with the Feare of God, and at the o­ther, with sincetitie, and his pockets full besides, with the fruites of To trust in God. And although they had tolde him that it was shorter and a great deale neerer then any o­ther waye, yet notwith­standing, did find it to be very harde and tedious, ful of stones, hedges and thornes. Where vpon hee said to sincerity, O good God how coms this way so harde, vneasie and todi­ous, I neuer would haue thought it, that it coulde haue beene so. Marua [...]le not, qd sinceritie, for there­fore [Page 175]it is called the way of Patience: and if it were not so ful of stones, prick­les and thornes, and not so troublesome to walke in it, it should not beare the name, which it doeth, and the house where it bringeth a man vnto, not of such a great estimation, if the way were euen and pleasant, and euery one could walk in it according to his owne will and li­king. But nowe none come thether before they be first well exercised in vertue. For dost thou not remember the common prouerbe. There is no gaine without paine, No ioy with­out annoy. And seeing thou art now entred into it, bee of good cheere, for [Page 176]it will not last long: for thou knowest that be who desireth to fish, must not feare the water: and doest thou thinke then to finde so costly and precious a treasure as is the Loue of God, without paine? Re­member I pray thee, what Seneca saith, A rare and precious thing is not to bee bought with smal mo­ney: Besided, the ende of toyle and labour, is rest & quiet. Therefore it were a foolish thing but once to imagine that such a costly iewell could bee gotten so easily at euery mans plea­sure. For if one could find the Loue of God so lightly, he wold be nothing estee­med of, because lightly gotten lightly forgotten. [Page 177]Therefore do thy best, and let a small paine not an­noy thee, then afterward thou shalt rest with the Loue of God, reioyce, and dayly banket with him: and the greater pain thou takest now to finde him, the more wilt thou esteem of him, and with greater diligence wilt thou ende­uour thy selfe to keepe his fauour. And likewise how thy paine & trauell which thou hast taken for him, hath beene more tedious, so much the greater shall bee thy ioy, comforte and pleasure. Againe if thou feelest thy selfe weake and almost ready to sounde, take a little of the fruit, To trust in God, which thou hast about thee, and it wil [Page 178]reniue thee againe. And if thou wilt not feele the tediousnes of the way, do as commonly all trauel­lers do, who with a song doe lighten the tediousnes of their iourney. Sinceri­ties wordes did please De­sire, and saide: howe is it possible that one shoulde sing in this olde mans company, for commonly age is alwaies repugnant to youthful actions. It is his custome quoth shee to beare such graue and se­uere a countenance, but o­therwise hee is very plea­saunt, frendly, and merry, for he is the Loue of Gods onely brother, and deligh­teth in mirth, but chiefly when we sing no vayne, light, or worldly songes. [Page 179]How shall I beginne to sing, quoth Desire, seeing I haue no voice at all? It cannot be, answered Sin­ceritie, that thou shouldest not haue any voice, seeing that thou thy selfe art a voyce. Desire did maruel, because she saide, that hee was a voice himselfe, and askt howe it was possible that it should be so. Thou and all creatures, quoth shee, art created by the word of God, & it is most manifest, that soone after the worde vttered y^e voice followed. And seeing that as soone as the Lorde had spoken the word, all crea­tures were made and cre­ated: it followeth there­fore that all creatures are voyces. I pray you quoth [Page 180] Desire, to tel me this som­thing more plainer that I might conceiue it. Wil­lingly answered Sincerity. The speech and the word is all one thing, for the speech is not that, which is vttered by the mouth, but it is the conceite of the mind, & that which man speaketh with the mouth is the voyce, which vtte­reth and giueth to vnder­stand the speech, the word, and the inwarde conceite of the mind. As for exam­ple: When I doe thinke with my selfe, that thou art a man, this is a word or speech, although it ly­eth hidden w^tin me. Now let vs heare, quoth Desire seeing that I am a voice, what kind of voice am I? [Page 181]Thou art, answered Sin­cerity, a voice of the Lord, who hath created thee to honour, laude and praise him. But what doe I say of my selfe (as I am a voice) qd Desire, through the good which thou hast receiued from God, sa [...]de she, thou criest that God is good and bountifull, & by the comelines where­with he hath endued thee, thou sayest that God is beautifull: and so conse­quently all y^e wherewith God hath endued thee, is but a voice of him, decla­ring his bounty & good­nesse. What reason haue you qd Desire, to say that all wherewith God hath adorned me, is but a voice of him, & sayest not gene­rally, [Page 180] [...] [Page 181] [...] [Page 182]that all which I haue in mee is his voyce? Because answered she, y^e sin and wickednes, which do remain in thee, are not created of God, & therfore they cannot hee voyces of the Lorde, but well thine owne, declaring that thou art vile, wicked, defiled & vncleane, for as man may come by the creatures, to the knowledge of God, so likewise may hee attaine through the workes, pro­ceeding from himself to his own know­ledge.

The second Chapter decla­reth the knowledge of God through his c [...]atures.

DEsire mar­uailed as the Ladies graue coū ­tenaunce. I althogh the seemed to bee but plaine, was notwithstanding ve­ry skilfull and learned in all heauenly knowledge, and said vnto her, where­fore woulde you haue vs to sing? Therefore quoth shee, because wee might hereby somewhat forget the tediousnes and paine of this vale of miserye: wherevnto the remem­brance [Page 184]and contemplatiō of Gods creatures, is likewise a great aide and furtherance, and therefore haue I placed them in the way of Patience, for the sooner shalt thou come to the Loue of God, if thou do­est exercise thy hart often­times in the booke of the creation: for through Pa­tience and the holy scrip­tures, (whereof all the world is but a booke) we attaine to the knowledge of God, and are greatly comforted in a distressed hope. And if thou wilt learne to tune thy voyce, learne it of the creatures, for some of them declare his goodnes, some shewe his might, some his wisedome, some his excellency, [Page 185]some his beauty, some his mercy, some his bountie, and generally all more or lesse sounde forth his om­nipotency, that all in con­sideration hereof shoulde spread abroade his prayse and glorie. Therefore endeuour thy self to learn to sing here by y^e way, for where thou goest, namely in the pallace of the Loue of God, they doe nothing but singe forth his praise. Teach me I pray you, quoth Desire, to sing by his creatures, for I cannot learne it of my self, willingly, answered sin­cerity. In the mean while Desire trauelled farre and wide in this desart, where he saw many great won­ders of the Lord, and be­gan [Page 186]to learne and to per­ceiue his mercie and good­nesse, & most part through Sincerities helpe, doctrine and teaching: yet he was forced to endure and su­staine many dangers, pe­rilles and paine, for he did stumble oftentimes, but Sinceritie kept him from falling, and yet notwith­standing sometimes fell, but sincerity did reach him the hande, and holpe him vp againe, and sometimes catcht such falles, that if the Feare of God had not aided him, he neuer wold or could haue risen again, sometimes when he shold go forwardes, went back­wards, & when he should haue amended himselfe by the creatures, oftentimes [Page 187]did greatly hinder himself thereby. For hee did not endeuour to learne their secret voyces, but became hoarse throgh negligence and slothfulnes, vntill the feare of God gaue hun a good push, and driue him forwardes. Oftentimes he did treade on a thorne, but sincerity incc [...]uted his feete and drew him out of it againe. Oftentimes fell a sleepe, but the [...]eare of God did awake him: sometimes being wearie, sate down and rested him­selfe, but his dogge Good-will did not holde off from barking, vntill he did rise againe. Sometimes the way was so tedious vnto him, that his heart began to faint [...]un, and desired [Page 188]to turne backe againe, but as soone as he did eate of the fruites to trust in God, which hee had in his poc­ket, and in euery place a­bout him, came to himself and waxed strong againe. And sometimes going by night, lost the feare of God and sinceritie, so that hee mist his way, but as soone as the day appeared, and the Sun began to shine, found quickly the way a­gaine by meanes of his dogge. And when they had thus trauailed certain daies, came at the last into a faire large and pleasant field, in the midst whereof stood a princely and coastly pallace, called Loue, where the Loue of God was por­ter.

The first Chapter doth in­treat howe the Loue of God doth exercise and trie vs.

DEsire was glad whē he sawe so faire and princely a pallace, & founde by experience that this wea­risome, tedious, and trou­blesome way had so good & pleasant an issue. Came [Page 190]therefore presently at the gates of the pallace, but finding them shutte close, begun to call and knocke, yet notwithstanding after long crying and knock­ing, none came to aun­swere. Call and crie a­loude, quoth sincerity, for in so doing, although they were all a sleepe, or halfe deafe, it cannot be but they shal heare thee. Knocke harde with the hammers which do hang at y^e gates, and then soone they will open the doores vnto thee (for there hung two ham­mers at the gate called to sigh and weepe. Knocke, harde and boldly, quoth she, for if they were not wont to open the gate to none, these two hammers [Page 191]shoulde not hange at the doore, for I thinke they are made for that purpose, to let all those in y^t knocke with them. Desire hauing knockt and called very long before the Loue of God wold open the gates was yet at y^• last comfor­ted by his comming, who hauing opened the doore, Desire knewe him not. Brother, quoth the Loue of God, what doest thou lack or desire? For whom dost thou look here? Thou art wearie perhappes to haue watched so longe at the gate, and to haue knocked so oftentimes. But here wee fame vs all to be halfe deafe, to trie y^u constancie and patience of trauellers who come he­ther. [Page 162]And when we find some that are wearie, and perswade themselues that there is nothing els be­longing vnto it, but as soone as they are come, then presently to open the gates for them, and let them come in: then wee let those without opening vnto them, returne backe againe, because wee open not the dore to any who thinketh that hee hath de­serued it, and perswades himselfe that he is worthy of it, and that it is our du­tie, and are bound to doe it. And art thou none of those fellowes? No, my good Lorde, quoth Desire. For although I haue suf­fered and sustained much sorrow and paine both of [Page 193]bodie and soule, yet I know for certaine, that I haue not deserued, & am altogether vnworthye to enter into the house, vn­lesse it woulde please your Lord shippe through your great mercye & goodnes, to leade and bring mee within. wherefore woul­dest thou come in quoth y^t Loue of God, or whome doest thou seeke heere in this house? My Lorde aunswered Desire, I am come from the Pallace of Humilitie, accompanied w^t these worthy personages. and haue taken my tour­ney through the neerest waye being Patience, to seeke out the Loue of God, who as I am informed, keepeth here his residence. [Page 194]Doest thou not bring any token, quoth the Loue of God, whereby a man may know thou commest frō thence? Yea my Lord, said Desire, I haue broght true tokens with me, whereof the one was giuen mee in the house of Humilitie, and is called Knowledge of him selfe, and the other haue I learned by the way, and is called Knowledge of God. I am glad, quoth the Loue God, to see thee so wel pro­uided, but dost thou think that for this knowledge sake we are bounde to let thee enter here? No my Lorde, aunswered Desire, but onely as I haue saide before, for thy grace and mercies sake, because I cannot tell whether these [Page 195]two sundrie knowledges are perfecte or not, and therefore I doubt of their sufficiency, I knowe that I haue dwelt in the Pal­lace of Humility for a time, and that they haue shew­ed me there all the house, the Damsels, their nature and condition, but I can­not tell whether I haue well digested in my sto­macke the fruites which I haue eaten there, al­though they were vnto mee very toothsome and pleasa [...] Be [...]des, I doe not know [...] wherther I haue [...]of [...] [...]ne [...] not by y^t may, [...] [...]me [...] y^e pri [...] ­kelle [...] [...]nd [...]ornes haue gri [...] [...]t [...]y hurt me, & my com [...] [...]ue hath brought me hether almost perforce. [Page 196]Therefore my good Lord, I can assure thee of no­thing that I bring with me, but onely of my wic­kednes, vnbelief, and im­perfection. And the chief­est occasion that moued mee to seeke y^e Loue of God was this, that I hearde y^t he was a good Phisition and Chirurgion, & would let mee blonde and purge mee from all corruptions and vncleannesse: And I am tolde, as soone as hee doth see one, knoweth presētly his disease, although it lyeth hidden secreat win the hearte. And wheresoe­uer hee putteth his hande vpon, there hee purgeth and cleanseth all thinges. Wherefore said the Loue of God, doest thou desire to [Page 197]be thus cleane, sound, and vnspotted? Because an­swered Desire, that I was also tolde, that none who were vncleane and vnde­filed, should or could en­ter or come into this place. Seeing it is so, as thou sayest quoth the Loue of God, and that thou put­test all thy confidence in­to our handes, tarrie here a while, for thou canst not become familiar with the loue of God, ere thou become acquainted first w^t his page, therefore I will go call him, and hee will instruct thee of all what thou hast to do, and speak vnto his Lorde and mai­ster.

The second Chapter intrea­teth of the loue of his neighbour.

DEsire tarried w^t great expecta­tion for y^e forth comminge of this Page, y^t he might bring him to the speech of his Lorde and maister, And not long af­ter sawe him come, and was called Neighbourly loue, which sight did greatly reioyce him, that euen for the loue which he bare to she Loue of God, coulde not abstaine frō weeping. Wherefore dost thou weep quoth Neighbourly loue, for they are all merrie in this house, & from hence [Page 199]is banished all sorrowe & ladnesse. I do not weepe for any griefe, said Desire, but for ioy. For whome dost thou seek here, quoth Neighbourly loue. My son, answered he, I looke for the Loue of God. I am his seruant & page, quoth he, and if thou doest seeke my Lorde, first of all thou must speake and come ac­quainted with me, for my Lorde loueth me deerely, & therefore those that loue not me, he wil not know them, nor once speake vn­to them. Faine would I know thy nature & condi­tions, quoth Desire, & for thy Lorde and maysters sake become acquainted w^t thee? If thou doest desire my acquaintance & frend­shippe, [Page 200]quoth Neighbourly loue, thou must prouide & giue mee euery morninge an hearb for my breakfast, called to thinke humblie, & for my dinner another, called to speake humblie, & for my supper another not vnlike the first, called to worke and doe humblie. But where shall I get these hearbes, quoth De­sire, the first called to think humblie, aunswered the Page, groweth in Humi­lities garden, where she e­steemed her selfe a slaue of all slaues, and worse then a beast. But to come ea­sily to this hearbe, because it is a great way to y^e pal­lace of Humilitie, and thou shalt take a horse to ride on, called to thinke well of [Page 201]euerie man, and by these means mayest thou come by this hearb euery mor­ning. The second hearbe is made of three sundrye hearbes, of the first thinke humblie, of meekenes and affabilitie in speech, & vpon the last is cast a smal pon­der called Slow and little. The third hearbe called to worke humblie, is made of diuers hearbes, whereof Mirth, loue, and quietnesse or diligēce are the chiefest. And whensoeuer thou doest feede mee with these hearbs, then our acquain­tance and frend shippe wil cōtinue & abide for euer, & I wil soons bring thee to y^t speech of my maister. The counsell and doctrine of y^e Page did delight Desire, & [Page 202]said: Seeing thou hast made me acquainted with thy nature and desire, I will diligently endeuour my self to procure and get these hearbes, for to giue them vnto thee. After this they both continued in sa­miliaritie one with ano­ther a long time. And De­sire hauing conueniēt time and opportunitie, said vn­to him, I beseech thee shew me so much fauour, as to bringe mee to thy Lorde. Willingly, quoth Neighbourly loue, for thou hast done thine endeuour since thou hast beene with mee. But tarrie here a while, I will go call my Lorde, & see whether hee will come forth to speake with thee.

The thirde Chapter intrea­teth of the loue of God & his neighbour, and of the second degree to loue, & of his office, and dayly ex­ercise.

DEsire doubt­ing whether the Loue of God woulde come forth to speake with him, because he saw his own vilenesse, pouertie, and miserie, and how vnworthy he was to speake with such a Lorde, espied one to come to­wardes him: who saide, Brother, what doest thou looke for, or what is thy desire? Sir quoth Desire, I looke for y^t Loue of God. [Page 204]I am bee, aunswered the Loue of God. And as soone as Desire did heare this, fell in a sounde, but y^e Loue of God tooke him by the hand, and lifting him vp, reuiued him againe. And when hee sawe the loue of God make so much of him, hee began most bitterly to weepe, insomuch that hee could not speak any word at all. Which the loue of God seeing, being of a gē ­tle and tender heart, was moued with compassion, and meruailed greatly of the extreame loue, desire & affection which Desire did beare vnto him, because he saw him weep for very ioy: and said, I pray thee weepe no more, and doe not make me sadde, for I [Page 205]cannot abide to see those weepe y^t loue mee. Tell me who told thee I dwelt here? A shepheard, quoth Desire, whome I met by the way, and did direct me hether. What said he of me vnto thee, said the Loue of God, that thou louest and desirest me so much: doest thou loue mee so deerely, because thou hast beene told, that I am bountiful to my frendes, and vnto those that serue mee, very franke and liberall? No quoth Desire, not therfore, but because you are a no­ble and good Lorde, and because you bring your frendes in a place where they shall see God, which is the greatest blessednesse of at the world. This good [Page 206]and holy minde of Desire did delight y^e Loue of God not a little, & was an oc­casion that he loued him y^e more for it, I meruell my Lord, quoth Desire, seeing your highnes are so noble a Prince▪ that your Grace putteth those that come to seeke you to such pain and trauaile, and are so hardly so be found out. Hold thy peace, answered y^e Loue of God, this misterie is hid­den from many. For some there are, who thinke they haue not founde mee, nor knowen me, yet I now^t ­stāting am alwaies neere them, and they are filled and replenished with me. And some there are like­wise who perswade them­selues y^t they haue founds [Page 207]me, who are yet far from me, and know me not. I pray your highnes thee­fore, quoth Desire, to let me vnderstande your na­ture and conditions, that I may know thereby whether I am neer or far from you, for I take you for my Lorde and maister. Mine exercise and office is, aunswered the Loue of God, to loue God, & I am a child of the knowledge of God. In what sort do you loue God, quoth Desire, I haue aunswered the Loue of God, a desire to wish for him with all my heart, & with all the strength and force of my soule, and to find him I leaue nothing vndone, vsing all means thereunto possible. And [Page 208]that I might knowe him the better, to his praise & glorie. I desire that all y^e earth wold acknowledge his vnspeakeable and in­finite goodnesse, and that all creatures should laud, honour and praise him. with this desire I con­straine and force my selfe to do nothing wherewith to displease him: and if peraduenture I offend him, then presently I prostrate my selfe before him, and craue pardō at his hands for my offence: and then we are as good frendes as euer wee were before: and because my Lord and God is so bountifull and [...]ood, I am not yet coun­ [...]ed to this first degree, but [Page 209]I endeuour my selfe also▪ to my small power a [...] d [...] b [...]e to execute and doe that which he or any of [...] least amongst vs doeth command mee▪ with as great diligence as may be. And hereby onely I can perceiue howe dearely I do loue him, when I doe that which he commaun­deth me. For certainly I beleeue that nothing is more acceptable or plea­sant vnto him▪ no seruice or reuerence more delight­ful then the obedience vnto his will and commandementes. For he him self doth say, how can thy ser­uice please mee, or howe canst thou perswade thy selt that I loue thee, when thou doest not keepe my [Page 210]commandementes. For knowe that there is no­thing that ioyned & knit­ted faster thy spirite with thine, then willingly to execute my will, and keep my lawes and statutes.

The fourth Chapter doeth prosecute the office of the loue of God in the same degree.

IN the same degree of Chari­tie, I haue purposed to do al thinges, where unto by office and calling I am bound unto: and seeing that I haue nowe bounde my selfe to God, (whereof I repent [Page 211]me not) I am willing to obey his will and com­mandement. Daily there­fore I consider my office, and all thinges there vnto belonging, and for the better execution hereof, I diligently follow the coū ­sell of the godly, and the holy Scriptures, for I know that many herein offende my Lord, because they are ignorant of those things, which are belong­ing to their dutie. And if they knowe it, and doe it not, then they are farre worse, because they sinne not through ignoraunce, or weakenesse, but onely through meere wilfulnes and mallice. Besides that, which I haue promised and haue sworne, & vow­ed [Page 212]vnto him, (wherevn­to I am most bounde) I endeuour w^t all diligence to performe and keepe it. Therefore I haue vow­ed vnto my Lorde to serue him with three dam­selles, Obedience, Chastity, and Pouertie. Therefore euery morning, I study how I might best serue & please him, speaking vnto my soule as followeth. Let vs cast about, my soule, how we shall behaue our selues, this day to please and to serue our Lorde, and again in the euening, I say vnto her. Let vs see O my Soule, howe wee haue serued our Lorde to day with the saide Dam­sels, whether we haue of­fended him in any thing [Page 213]or no: and in this sorte I endeuour my selfe to bee a loyall seruant to my Lorde, with these Dam­selles. Wherefore do you this quoth Desire. There­fore answered the Loue of God, because these three Damselles are Chamber­laines to my Lorde, and none can come in his chā ­ber, and speake with him: vnlesse first they do open him the doores, and pre­pare him the entry. I pray you, quoth Desire, to tell me what spirituall exerci­ses you do vse, for to bee faithfull vnto these dam­sels, I haue answered the Loue of God, three intents which I do offer both day and night, that further me to all manner of seruice. [Page 214]The first intent is called Wish or aduance not. The seconde, Desire nothing. The first intent serueth Obedience, when I dresse it with a certaine sause, called to doe, and then is called Aduance not to doe, And the finer I dresse this for her diet, y^e more frend­shippe she getteth for me, and in greater fauour she bringers me w^t my Lorde, and sayeth much good of me vnto him, so that he by her words loues me dear­ly, and is a mercifull and bountifull Lord unto me. This foresaid dish, name­ly Aduance not to do, when I dresse it with another sause called to haue, then it is called, Wish or aduance not to haue, & herewithal [Page 215]I feede and maintaine the other Damsell called Po­uerty. Stay a while quoth Desire. Why shoulde I not wish or aduance my selfe, to haue something when I lacke? This is not thus to be understoode, answe­red the Loue of God, for if thou needest some thing, thou hast thy Soueraign, who wil by himselfe, or by his commanders suffici­ently prouided for thee, without thy wishinge or asking, which is altoge­ther vnmannerly. For where one is, who hath the commaundement, and care ouer all the hou­shold, hee will sufficiently prouide for them all, after his power & abilitie, & as [Page 216]it becommeth his duetie, place, and authoritie. To the end the rest should addict themselues more zelously to y^e seruice of God and to y^e contemplation of heauenly and spirituall thinges, without euery mans owne and perticu­lar carefulnes, to craue, aske or aduance to haue y^t which he needeth. And it were a greate ouersight that a chiefe commaunder of anye place should not haue the care and forecast to prouide for his subiects or housh oldes necessitie, without their asking. But that which I speake of aduancing, demaun­ding or crauing, is diuers­ly, but chiefely two waies [Page 217]to be vnderstode. First when they prouide not for thy necessitie without thy asking or crauing, which is greatly to be misliked, discommended & dispraised in a congrega­tion whatsoeuer. Second­ly that which thou needest thou doest lacke it gretly, and not to be wilfull and wanton. Orels in all thinges which thou canst desire, therin will consist curiositie, superfluitie and tempting of God. For be­leeue me that vnder the couer & colour of necessitie, lie oftentimes hidden di­uers and many sinnes, & chieflie in things belong­ing to the maintenance & and sustenance of the bo­dy, as meare, drinke, ap­parell [Page 218]and such like things are. How shall I know quoth Desire, whether it be needfull, superfluitie or wantonnesse onely, that which I demand or craue to haue. See answered y^e loue of God, whether thou canst forbeare it, and liue without it, without the great hinderaunce, perill and daunger of thy soule and body. But if thou didst perceiue that it shold turne thee to such perill & damage, then to Desire no­thing were a great sinne and madnesse, and con­trarie to Gods com­maundementes. But if thou canst forbeare it and bee without it, so it bee not as I haue sayde daungerous, and hurte­full [Page 219]to thy health, al­though somewhat paine­full, troublesome and te­dious to thy fleshe, then to Desire nothing is a great vertue, and mor­thie of prayse and com­mendation. But as the holy Scripture sayeth: Blessed is the man that suffereth something for the Loue of GOD. Therefore if thou canst forbear it without the ha­zarding, and indangering both of thy soule and bo­die, then to craue, aske, and demande, esteeme it wantonnesse onely, al­though it couereth it selfe w^c the cloake of necessity, want, need, & holines. For sinnes neuer disclose and shewe themselues hare, [Page 220]but present themselues al­waies vnder the colour of good thinges, and hereby mayest thou know whe­ther it be necessarie or not when thou crauest some thing,

And that none deceiue themselues in their owne opinion, they need great­ly a diligent inquisition, & a vertuous exercise, and if they be destitute hereof, then set them goe about their businesse with coun­sell of the holy scriptures, or with the aduice of a gooly and wise man, who will instruct them herein,

The fifte Chapter intrea­teth of the two other in­tentes, namely of De­sire nothing, and remēber no­thing.

SEeinge I haue nowe disclosed vnto thee my first intent, wherewith­all I maintayne the two damosels Obedience and Pouertie likewise I will discouer y^e nature and pro­pertie of others, namely Desire nothing, & Remem­ber nothing. Thou must know that the said first in­tent, To wishe for nothing, [Page 222]grow­eth and commeth of no­thing, but from a Desire to haue or doe nothing. And when the cause which is the Desire, to wishe for, is taken awaye and rooted out, then his force and ef­fect doth cease quickly, which is, To aske for. And hereby is made y^t which is contrarie to it, namely To aske nothing, which is my second intent, where­withall I maintain dame Pouertie. But thou must marke, that this Desire, is vnderstood only of world­lye and earthly matters. But because this hearbe hath an other roote, where out it groweth, which is to Remember, (for nothing there can bee wisht for, which was not before re­membred) [Page 223]therefore make much of this third intent, which is, to Remember no­thing, wherewithall I mayntain the third Dam­sell, called Chastitie. But y^u must vnderstande this, Remembring, when it is substantiall, stedfast, wil­full, and springing out of a fleshly lust. For it is not in mans power not to Re­member nothing, but wel not to suffer thoughtes to remayne and cast foun­dations in him, but to turne them quickly of, and to thinke of God. But be­cause that this hearbe Re­membring doeth water it selfe with a water called To see, we must cast vpon it a pouder called Diligent­ly to haue care to the eyes, [Page 224]which is very profitable so it.

These three intents, do not onely clense my soule of all worldly things, as selfe-wil & such like spots, but they breede in mee a great purenes & promp­titude, to loue my Lorde, drawing from me al other loues, and vniting me al­together with him. In these three intents I haue comprehended all the o­ther godly exercises ser­uing the spirite, as well of Humilitie, as of any o­ther vertues, because I know that the perfection of vertue consisteth here­in. Thinke not therefore that in vame I serue these three Ladies, for they bee very gracious, and get me [Page 225]much fauour. One of the three called Pouerty, hath giuen me a faire iewell. I pray you quoth Desire, to let me see it? I keepe it answered the Loue of God, in two places, namelie, in my heart and Bed-cham­ber. This iewel is so cost­ly, and of such price and value, that I was not a­ble to keepe it in my hart, before I had cast out of it all earthly loue. And in like sort, it coulde haue no place in my Bed-Cham­ber, before I had cast and throwne out of it all curi­ous, superfluous, and partiall things, reseruing onely to my vse, but a few bookes. Now do you call this iewell quoth Desire? It is called, answered the [Page 226] Loue of God. Nothing at all, for this is the greatest treasure that Pouertie can possesse, who is the richest Ladie of all the earth, be­cause she hath as much treasure hereof as she will her selfe.

The sixte Chapter doth pro­secute the office of the Loue of God, and besides, intreateth of praier.

IN this de­gree of charity wher­of I haue spoken, which was for to obey his commaundement (as my duetie doeth require) there is yet another cir­cumstance to bee conside­red, for the Office sake, wherein hee hath placed me, namely to be his chā ­berlain. Which is, whēso­euer I come to serue him, [Page 228]or come to craue some­thing at his hands, or but onely to speake with him: I haue then a special care to come before him, with such great humilitie, low­lines & purenesse of mind as I am able. And the purer and cleaner that my heart is, the more casie I see, beholde and knowe him. And pray my louing brother, the Feare of God, and my Aunt Reuerence, to keepe mee companye. What do you when Lady Reuerence goeth with you said Desire. Then I remē ­ber and think what I am, answered the Loue of God, and set before my eyes the maiesty and greatnes of my Lord, who is to be serued with feare and re­uerence, [Page 229]as one onely worthie of it. Besides, I remember that all An­gels and heauenly princi­palities do fall downe be­fore him, worshippe and adore him, being asto­nished, at such great ex­cellent and incomprehen­sible a Maiestie. Moreo­uer I conclude, that hee knoweth the secrets of my bart, and seeth my inward thoughtes, better then I my selfe. Likewise that he can, according vnto his godly will and pleasure, doo and vndoo all things, and that life and death, be­ing and not being, and the saluation and con­demnation of al the world are in his hand and pow­er. Furthermore, I remē ­ber [Page 230]that hee is the foun­taine and welspring of all goodnesse, the onely and Soueraigne good in hea­uen and earth: and when diligently I put in minde those thinges, then I be­ginne to shake and trem­ble, then my hearte and minde beginnes to alter, so that oftentimes I fall in a sound: chieflie when I consider that I being so wicked, vile, vncleane, & worser then any dog, pre­sume to vndertake such an high office, & to be so fa­miliar w^t such a mighty Lord, & y^t such a renown­ed Maiesty will vouchsafe to delight in my vile com­panie, & suffer me to speak & eat w^t him, as his fami­liar and onely friend. And [Page 231]oftentimes my selfe do tel him of it, saying: where­fore doest thou suffer, O my God, these vile & vn­clean sinners to stand be­fore thee? How my Lord, is it decent y^t thou should­est be serued of such wret­ches & wicked offenders as we are? Where is the honour and reuerence due to thy princely Maie­stie? But what aunswere doeth he giue you, quoth Desire. I cannot tell an­swered the Loue of God, but onely that for very ioy hee makes mee to weepe, and saith: Doo not trouble thy selfe herewithall, for y^u hast not procured thee the office, & hast not pla­ced thy selfe in it, but I haue called thee vnto it, [Page 232]and I know wherefore I haue done it, but bee thou carefull to looke to thy calling: and that which thy Office doth require & demaunde: endeuour thy selfe diligently to further and performe it. What do you say vnto him, quoth Desire, when you come be­fore him, accompanied w^t Humilitie, Charity, Feare, and Reuerence. First of al, quoth the Loue of God, when I craue something at his hands, and would moue him to grant me my request, then I endeuour with all my force and po­wer to exalte and prayse him: and cease not for to giue him thankes for all his benefits which I haue receiued, for I knowe y^t [Page 233]this is acceptable & plea­sant in his sight. And whensoeuer I goe about to praise him, then I re­hearse all the wondrous workes which hee hath done, recreating and de­lighting my selfe therein greatly. This same I do touching his great pow­er, wisedome, and good­nesse, further I rehearse his great mercye and be­nefites, which he hath be­stowed vppon his people and seruants, praising and magnifying him therein. I doe not forget also his great mercy shewed vnto his enemies, which hee doeth dayly yet continue, maruelling greatly in his omnipotency, excellencie, & incomprehensible good­nesse, [Page 234]in that he doeth not punish them according to their desertes, but rather doeth make them parta­kers of his bountie and li­beralitie. I thanke him also for the great mercye which in him is alwaies resident, delighting to re­count his vertues & beau­tie which flow and runne from him, praysing and magnilying him for those, and reioycing in them, & in his vnspeake able mer­cie. And this I do often­times, because I knowe y^t this is his will, and doeth greatly please him. Be­sides his will is, that we being familiar with him, should talke of [...]ecret and heauenly thinges, which are hidden from those that [Page 235]doe not esteeme to enter in his priuie Chamber, al­though they are of his housholde and dayly ser­uantes. Wherefore, quoth Desire, doe you giue him all this praise, thankesgi­uing and blessing? because answered the Loue of God, the more I extol his good­nesse, and the more I dis­able and humble my selfe before him, the more I am agreeable, and accep­table vnto him. For this is his most blessed & holy will, that we should haue alwaies before our eyes, his vnspeakeable good­nesse, highnesse, excellen­cie, & omnipotency, & our weaknes. And although I giue vnto him as much praise & thanks as euer I [Page 236]may, I am certaine, that therein I can bee no lyar, for hee is of greater excel­lencie, power, highnesse, and worthinesse, then I or any mortall or unmor­tall tongue can vtter, or any heauenly or earthlye creature conceiue or com­prehende.

The seuenth chapter intrea­teth of the loue of God in the second degree, & doth prosecute the manner of prayer.

AFter that I haue praysed, thanked, and exalted him as much as I am [Page 237]able, then I do commend vnto him my soule, my whole will, and the best intent and minde which I haue: which is, that al­though I might gaine all the world, I would in no wise anger or offend him, praying him out of y^e bot­tome of my hearte, that it would please him to keep, strengthen and further me in this good and godly minde, for without him were I not able to keepe it long. This done, I praye him for the forgiue­nesse of all my trespasses, and offences, wherein I haue transgressed his ho­ly laws, and that he wold not let me set my thoghts, loue and minde vpon any thing, but vpō him onely. [Page 238]And because hee hath vouchsafed to accept mee for his seruant and friend, and hath honoured mee with such an office, that it wold likewise please him to giue mee the spirite of Humilitie, who might draw and turne away my mind from pride, & from all that doeth displease him: to the end my seruice bee not to his dishonour, but to his honour and glorie, giuing mee that, which he knoweth to bee most needefull vnto me, & that which hee is willing I should haue to his glo­rie, for to be more accepta­ble vnto him. And this I doe for no other cause, but that I might liue and die w^t him, & feare not to bee [Page 239]cast (although I haue de­serued it) out of his sight and fauour. Then after­warde I pray to him for my frendes and acquain­tance, as also for all crea­tures, that it would please him in his mercie to giue them grace, that they all shoulde praise, honour, loue and thanke him, as is their duetie: endeuour­ing my selfe for to doo and speake all this with all purenesse and simplicitie of minde. What doe you quoth Desire, to come by such purenes? To my vt­termost, answered y^e Loue of God, I haue a speciall care to my minde, & keep a straight watch ouer al my cogitations, and doe most carefully looke to my soule. [Page 240]And besides, I suruey narrowly all my senses, setting alwaies before my eie [...] Sincerity, who turneth all things which she seeth to the best. And when I will assure my selfe a­gainst all the worlde, and haue no cause to feare any body: then I go and re­maine with my Lord, for it is all my comforte, ioy, pleasure, and my Soue­taigne good, to bee in his company to speake, and aske his aduice and coun­sell: and I am neuer con­tented, quiet, satisfied, or assured, but when I am with him. And therefore I haue determined to leaue & forsake all things for to dwell and remaine with him, and neuer to go [Page 241]frō him, but when he doth commaunde it me. It is yet quoth Desire, some­times needful to reade al­so▪ It is true, aunswered the Loue of God, that rea­ding is good, not for to be­come craftie and subtill thereby, but onely for to learne to know God and his waies, & to loue him as wee shoulde. And to this I neede not manye bookes, but will deepely fal in loue with my Lord, and set all my desire and whole minde vppon him, with all my vnderstand­ing and wisedome, for his loue doeth suffice me, and will instruct mee in all thinges, which are re­quitte for mee to know: and he will by the means [Page 242]of loue, disclose and open vnto me, more secreates, then all the bookes of the world are able to do. And my soule gathereth more purenesse, feare, feruency, reuerence, repentaunce, strength and force to resist my fleshe, when I am w^t him, then whē I do read. Besides, I know that he neuer wil aske an account how much I haue reade & studied, but how I haue honoured and loued him, yet hereby I will not seem to condemne readinge, chiefly in those who know not the wayes of God, nor the gouernemente of the spirite, nor cannot frame in good order their thoughtes, wordes and deedes, as they should do, [Page 243]to those I say, it is neces­sarie y^t they shoulde read a long time to becom prōpt & ready in spirituall & in­ward exercises. For other wise it would bee a great madnes, presumptiō: nay, a contempt & dispising o [...] y^e king, y^t a clownish fel­lowe who knoweth not the vse, custome, and lan­guage of the court, would come personally to speake with the king, in y^e presēce of all his Lords & nobles, & now being in y^t midst of his talke, should cast forth vnwise & foolish words according vnto his custome, for this shoulde turne to his great shame & confu­sion, for the king woulde command him to be driuē away, so that it should [Page 244]haue beene better for him neuer to haue presumed to shew himself before his Maiestie. And thus it is with spirituall matters. But those that haue got­ten y^e knowledge of God, and of heauenly thinges, eyther by reading or hea­ring prayer, is much more profitable, & a more excel­lent an exercise then rea­dinge, being now some­what acquainted with the manners, vse and custome vsed in the spirituall and heauenly Court.

And when I am nowe before my Lorde, then I take heede that I turne not my head, eyes, & body, hither and thether: because it is a signe of contempt of his word, when one spea­keth [Page 245]vnto him, and then turneth his face another way. Declare this vnto mee, quoth Desire, some­what better, for I doe not wel vnderstande it. When I, aunswered the Loue of God, speak vnto my Lord, and cast my mind and co­gitations vpō other mat­ters: then I turne him my backe, and not my face. Therefore I thinke and perswade my selfe, that he alwaies seeth me, and ne­uer turneth his eyes from me, for to marke what I say, what feruēcy I haue, what reuerence I shewe vnto him, likewise in what repentance, loue & vnitie, I doe exercise my selfe. Then afterwarde I humbly thanke him for all [Page 246]his benefits bestowed vp­on me, and generally vp­on all creatures, hauing them oftentimes in my minde, and rehearsing them vnto him: because I knowe that hee cannot a­bide any vnthankefulnes, or that in any wise wee should forget his goodnes declared vnto vs all.

The eight Chapter intrea­teth of the third degree of the Loue of God.

SEeing I haue nowe spoken vnto thee of y^e first degree o [...] loue which I beare vnto my Lorde, which is to be careful not [Page 247]to offend him, and like­wise of the seconde, which is to doe all that hee com­maundeth mee, yet I am not contented with these two, for the great loue which I ba [...]e him, but haue toyned vnto those two first, the third degree which is, to do all that I am able to thinke or ima­gine, for to please and to bee acceptable vnto him, wherby do you know qd Desire, y^t you do y^t which is pleasant in his sight? By two things answered the Loue of God. The one is, to loue that which hee lo­ueth, and y^e other, to hate y^t which he hateth. As cōcer­ning y^e first, to loue that which he leueth, therby I loue my Lords only son, [Page 248]who is the fairest, gentlest and most worthiest, that euer was or shal be, being like vnto his father in all thinges, and yet the most obedientest that was or e­uer shall bee. This sonne be loueth as much as hun self, because he is more like vnto him, then euer sonne was vnto his father. And y^e vnitie and loue between the father and the sonne is so exceeding great, y^t they are both one, of one will, force, power, wisedome & maiestie. And although they are distinguished in persons, are notwithstan­ding but of one substance and essence. My Lorde did make with his owne hande for this his sonne, a shepheardes garmente [Page 249]wherewithall being clo­thed, came out of his Fa­thers chamber, yet neuer was from him, but al­waies with him, and is dayly conuersant with vs in this house, for other­wise we could not see nor know him: and thus ap­parelled, his father sent him with a basket at his armes through the whole world, & likewise through this wildernesse to seeke out his sheepe that were lost and run astray. And as hee was walkinge through the desart, his fa­ther suffered him to bee slaine by the wolues, and deuoured by dogges, and in no wise would come to aid or assist him, although hee was able enough to [Page 250]haue done it, but his will was, y^t the wolues should teare him in peeces, and put him to the most cruel­lest death that could be in­uented or imagined, and shoulde vse him the worse because hee was a kinges sonne. And this did our Lord for meer loue which hee bare vs, because that all they which are of his houshold might perceiue and see howe dearely hee loued vs, in that he hath not spared his owne son, but hath giuen him in sa­crifice for vs, therefore are we bound to loue him al­so, because he loued, vs so much before. when y^e Loue of God was telling this, Desire wept bitterly, so y^t his hart seemed to breake [Page 251]in peeces. The father lo­ued y^e son so much, saide y^e Loue of God, that although he suffred him to be put to death, yet throgh his om­nipotency did soone raise him vp again frō y^e dead w^t more glozie and triumph thē euer before, carrying w^t him those sheepe, for whom bee was come, ha­uing a speciall care ouer those whome hee had yet left in the desarte and pa­stures to waxe fat. And thus he returned into his fathers chamber, where he now sitteth at his right hand, making dayly in­tercession for vs, and ex­cusing our infirmities for y^e vnspeakable loue which he beareth vnto mākind: & I belieue that if it were [Page 252]not for his sake, the Lorde would haue cast vs long agone out of this house, for our great wickednesse sake, because we serue him so negligently, without a­nie zeale or affection, and so highly doe forget him, & put him out of minde for euery trifle and small oc­casion. The Father lo­ueth his sonne so dearely, that I belieue not y^t there is any thing in this world wherwith we can do him better seruice, then in lo­uing of his sonne. There­fore I endeuour my selfe to loue & please his sonne. wherein, quoth Desire, do you loue and please him? when I, aunswered the Loue of God, remember his holy life, his exceeding [Page 253]great trauaile, his death, & his blessed doctrine, & endeuor to cōform & frame my actions and manners vnto his life, for when my Lord doeth see one resem­bling the life of his sonne so much the more doth he loue him: and therefore it was his wil that he shold come to visite vs, dwel w^t vs, and teach vs how we shoulde liue, for wee liued before euen as beasts, and therfore the Lord did send him vnto vs, in steed of a mirror, and looking glasse, y^t all men who were desy­rous to knowe whether their wil, or actions were bad or good, shoulde be­hold his sons life, for in y^e worlde there is no surer & better, touchstone then it. [Page 254]The seconde whome my Lord loueth, is my page, called Neighbourly loue For hee loueth this lad so tenderly, that all that we doe vnto him, whether it be good or euill, he doth take it as it were done vnto his own person. In what loue you this boye, quoth Desire. First ol al, I esteeme him to bee bet­ter then my selfe, and al­though I doe supplie a great and high office, yet am obedient vnto him in all lawfull & good things. I take heede in no wise to hinder or endamage him, but I shewe him all loue and frend shippe that I am able. I haue no ill su­ [...]pition of him, but rather doe alwayes defende and [Page 255]excuse him. I [...]narie him not i [...] words nor dee [...]es, but I suffer patiently his naturall weaknes and in­firmitie, I [...]rie him, I doe not back [...]e him, nor will not suff [...]r any man for to do it. I wish that he should exceede me in loue which I beare to God, and that it woulde please almightie God to make him better then my selfe. I in no wise ennie his temporall or spirituall blessinges, or any thing that belongeth vnto him, but reioyce in his prospe­ritie and welfare, his losse aduersitye and sorrowe doeth hartely grieue mee. Further, I thinke him to be an Angell of the Lord, and that I am vnworthy [Page 256]to bee his slaue & seruant, and this do I because my Lord loueth him so deore­ly. I loue also the affaires of y^e common wealth, ha­uinge a speciall care ouer them, because they apper­taine to the seruice of the Lorde, to his honour and to the mayntenance of his house. Therefore I doe mine indeuour that no­thing be neglected, chiefly which concerneth anye godly exercise, as is rea­ding, fasting, chastning of the flesh, and such like, al­though some do but little esteeme of these thinges. Further I remember y^t I know him better then a­ny other creature, because I haue receyued more at his handes then any. And [Page 257]seeing that other seruants serue their earthly maist­ers, with greate atten­dance and diligence, why shoulde I not serue my Lord, who hath chosen [...]e to bee his chamber­laine aboue any domesti­cal seruant? And although all the world should faile, and there should none bee remayning, yet I will neuer be vnfaithfull vnto him till death.

The ninth Chapter intrea­teth of those things which the loue of God hath, an [...] of the conclusion.

THe other of these two things wher­of I haue spo­ken vnto thee, [Page 258]and wherewith I seeke to please my Lord, is to hate y^• which he hateth. There­fore I set before mee, that my Lorde hath two ene­mies, the one, the world, the other my flesh, there­fore I haue determined w^t my selfe to hate them mor­tally, & neuer to contracte any league with them: & because I might the sted­faster remaine in my de­termination, I use these meanes, neuer to recreate my selfe with them, to speake or frequent their companies, vniesse my Lord doeth commaund it me, whose commaunde­ment I esreene more then my determination. And therefore I haue desired y^e lieuetenant of the house, [Page 259]that be send me not about such busines whereby I might recreatemy selfe, as in townes, citties, coun­tries, or among people, for I esteeme this a great contempt and dispising, but whē I am cōmanded, then I obey. And althogh my Lorde for certaine af­faires commandeth me to go into the world, yet his will is, that I in going should not loyter, and in returning shold be found faithfull vnto him, and in no wise shold vse any fals­hood practise treason a­gainst him, but shoulde withdrawe my selfe as soone as it were possible, & come again, for I know certainely, that how nar­rowly wee looke to [Page 260]our selues, and as much good as we can do, yet we are like to get there no­thing, but are alwaies in danger to loose much. In this sorte I hate like my sins, iniquities, vnclean­nes, carnal motions, w [...]e­kes desires and vnnatu­rall passions, and am ve­tie pensiue and sorrowful that they dwel within me, knowing that they are contrary to my Lords wil & doe altogether displease him. Therefore I ende­uour my selfe alwayes to amend through loue. Like wise for the loue of him I eschewe and flie from all those y^t are in his house, except it be in thinges of necessitie and loue, with­drawing my selfe altoge­ther [Page 261]from them. Where­fore doe you so, quoth De­sire. Because now a dayes there are no spiritual prai­ers, loue and goodly zeale practised and exercised, and those that boast of the knowledge of God, commonly decay in slothfulnes

Therefore I will accu­stome my selfe to be alone, and addict my self to prai­ers, that my soule may re­ceine and feele some com­fort and ioy in the Lorde, and I learne to loue him as it becommeth me, for to that intent I haue for­saken the worlde, and all the vanities thereof. But quoth Desire others will account you fantasticall & partiall, and euery man [Page 262]will cast his eyes vppon you, it is no matter an­swered the Loue of God, for I shoulde not serue to please man, and chiefly in things which are contra­rie to God. And when I giue no offence to my brother, I care not what the worlde speaketh, so I do my duety in that which is commanded mee, And therefore if thou wilt haue and possesse me, doe as I do.

The tenth Chapter intrea­teth, that the Loue of God brought De­sire to the house.

DEsire was a­mased at those things which the Loue of God had tolde him, and after long stu­dying, said: When you do all these things, haue you then any need to stand in feare of any body? I truly aunswered y^e Loue of God, for I must be very careful that I bee not pust vp in vaine glorie for my good workes, or intangled w^t selfe loue, for if I gaue anye place unto these, [Page 264]my Lord presently would thrust and turne me out of the doores. There [...]ore I haue alwayes at my side my mother Humilitie. I pray you quoth Desire, to leade mee into the house, follow me said the Loue of God, for thou hast beene nowe long enough with me, and I will bring thee to another of my fellowes who hath a greater office then I. How is he called quoth Desire. His name answered the Loue of God, is To desire God. Desire went merrely accompani­ed w^t y^e Loue of God, to seeke out To desire God, & when he had found him: said vn­to him: my Lord I wold it would please you to en­tertaine me as one of your [Page 265]seruantes. Desires good­will did greatly please To desire God, and saide vnto him, it is needefull (so y^u wilt bee with me) that y^u bee first well instructed by my fellows, for thou must knowe, that of the wine which floweth out of the hoggeshead of the Loue of God, is made To desire God. Therefore doe not deceiue thy selfe, but see y^t thou be first well prouided and replenished with the Loue of God. My Lorde quoth Desire, I haue dwelt longe with y^e Loue of God, and he hath instructed me in all thinges which I must doe, and with Gods grace I wil endeuour my selfe to put all thinges in vre and practise, but I [Page 266]cannot warrant you whe­ther I haue the Loue of God, or not, for hee onely knoweth who doeth loue him, and in these thinges the vest is to humble him­selfe. As for my selfe I can not assure what I haue, but onely this dog called good-wil, and yet I think not that hee is mine be­cause he was but sent me. To desire God did take a great delight and plea­sure in all these wordes, and chiefly because Desire did not perswade himself that he had y^e Loue of God, I pray you Sir, quoth Desire, to tell me your na­ture and conditions. E­uen as a man saide, The dersie of God commeth through the knowledge [Page 267]of himselfe to a hate and despising of himselfe, so likewise through y^e know­ledge of God, hee attain­eth to Desire God. And whosoeuer doeth possesse mee, hee hated all worldly thinges, for I do frame in him so noble and excellent a mind, that hee thinketh himselfe to good, to desire any thing els, then the chiefest and the souerainest good, which is God one­ly, besides I make him very great & high tanored w^t God, & although he is but of base kindred, yet I make him a mighty king, & whosoeuer doeth enioy me, his mind runneth vpō nothing but vpō God on­ly, he speketh nothing but of God, for where his treasure [Page 268]is, there is his, hart also. And that which a man hath cōceiued in mind, the congue commonly spea­keth, for the mouth doeth alwaies bewray the in­warde affections of the hart. To the hungrie I am meat, and restoritie, I am the chiefest in this pal­lace, and ain Chamber­laine to loue and Charitie, I haue power to bringe those in, whome I will that are my frendes. I am the preacher, who goeth through the house trying, vntill my Lorde doeth a­wake, & commeth forth of his chamber, for to speake with those y^t do call vpon him. Whom think you did awake vs, whē thou didst stand long before y^e gates, [Page 269]knocking with the two hammers hanging at the doore, called To sigh and weepe, but onely the con­tinual barking of thy dog. I am the surest messinger, who commeth first at the gates, and goeth to the Lord, who followeth him alwaies, and is next vnto him. I haue in my power the fruite of a tree, y^t which wee that are here within haue to deliuer out, and to giue to euery man there­of to eate, called See God. Is it a sweete fruite, said Desire, for they gaue me an other to eat in the house of Humility, which was som­what bitter: and chiefly at y^e first fell somewhat harde & vneasie to bee swallow­ed. This fruite quoth hee [Page 270] To desire God, is maruel­lous sweete and pleasant, but to some more sweeter, and of pleasanter tast then to others, which happe­neth after the good appe­tite and stomack that they haue. And the sounder y^t their tast is, and their teeth the better, thereafter they finde this fruite the sweeter and more plea­sant. For some there are, who haue rotten teeth, & to those this fruit is vnsa­uorie, for they are not able to chaw it. And some doe eat it without appetite or hunger, because their sto­mackes are already ouer­laden with other meates, and to those likewise it is vnpleasant, because they cannot well digeste it, al­though [Page 271]it doeth them but sinal hurt. And some there are, whose taste is marde through a feuer, or an vn­naturall heate, and these knowe nothing of this fruit, but onely by heare say. I pray you qd Desire, let me taste of this fruit. I am glad answered To de­sire G [...]d, art thou willing to taste of it, for it is not possible, that wee during this life should satisfie our selues, or sil our bellies w^t it, but only tast how sweet and pleasant it is. Where­fore quoth Desire? There­fore aunswered To desire God, for if man could here satisfie his appetite with it, & feede plentifully vnto his owne will of it: hee wold neuer be willing to [Page 272]leaue this prison, and go to heauen, hauing here of this fruit sufficiēt enough to maintaine him. But for the better vnderstanding hereof, we die almost for hunger, and are famt and feeble w^t too long fasting, looking alwaies for the time till we shall come to the banquet of our soue­raigne Lorde and Ring. And euen as a hart doth thirst in the Sommer af­ter the springe of water: so likewise doe our soules hunger after y^t day. This fruite is of such force and vertue, that onely a small bitte doth fil our stomacke so much, that it is not a­ble to containe more, how great a feeder soeuer a man bee. But when wee [Page 273]shall bee with the Lorde, then he will giue vs grea­ter & stronger stomackes, that we may eat plentiful­ly enough of these fruites, without any hurt or surfe­ting: for if any would eate here in this li [...]e, more then their stomackes were able to beare: it woulde more hinder then profite them. Therefore it is needefull, that we eat but a little and inoderatly of these fruits, till we come to that place, where we may fully satis­fie our selues with them, wherof we haue now but a taste onely.

The eleuenth Chapter in­treateth how to Desire God, did prepare Desire for to eate of the fruit.

I Pray you sir quoth Desire. let mee haue a taste of these fruits so much or little as it pleaseth you. First aunswered To desire God, because this fruit doth neuer remain but in a pure vessell, it is there­fore most necessary that thou doest make cleaue thy teeth, wash thy eyes, mouth, face, and handes. But where shall I come to water here saide Desire, [Page 275]I will bring thee to a fountaine of life, aunswe­red To desire God, which runneth and floweth both night and day, and is cal­led Godly exercise, besides I will call some Dam­selles of the house, that will bee willing to wash and cleanse thee: Desire was glad in tarrying for these Damselles, and saw presently To desire God, accompainied with these Ladies: and saide, Be­hold frende these Ladies must wash thee. The first is called Courtesie, the se­conde Vnitie, the third Pit­tie, the fourth Mercy, the fift Amiablenesse, the sixte Fauour, the seuenth Meek­nesse, the eight Zeale, [Page 276]the ninth Ioy, the tenth Iu­stice, the eleuenth Forti­tude, y^e twelfth Prouidence or Forecast. And this last will giue thee an hearbe y^t will prouoke thine appe­tite, for to eat thy meat w^t a better stomacke. For this fruite is onely mini­stred to the hungrie, and not to any other. The thirteenth Damsell is cal­led Long suffering, y^e foure­teenth Constancie, the fif­teenth Peace, the sixteenth Neatnes, the seuenteenth Diligence, the eighteenth Prayer, the nineteenth La­bour, and the last am I to Desire God. And I am al­waies found in this com­pany And so long as thou art to bee founde among them, they will further [Page 277]thee greatly in the eating of this fruite. And when­soeuer thou dost eat them, they will goe alwaies with thee, and neuer forsake thee, vnlesse thy selfe beares them away, and doest misuse them, for they themselues are wondrous desirous of this diet, and no sooner they fee this fruite, but presently they swarme a­bout it, enē as bees about the hony, and there is no surer token that one hath had a tast of these fruites, but when they see these Damsels about the doore. Desire was glad when hee was washt, and had tasted of y^e fruit. Brother quoth to desire God, seeing thou hast done this, thou must [Page 278]now sing also, for the ser­uants of God do alwaies sing after their meales, praising and thanking the Lord. And h [...]t is [...] b [...] ­o [...]e in y^e ho [...] t [...]at can not one in y^e ho [...] that can not [...] ▪ Howe shall I sing quoth Desire, Let vs goe within the house, said To dessire God, where [...]ll the Musicians dwell. The [...]rst is called Blessing, the second Honour, the thirde Prayse, the fourth Thanks­giuing. With these must thou sing, for they are ve­ry good and skilfull Mu­sitians, and haue all good doyces. The first Mu­sitian called Blessing, sing­eth the Superins or troble and prayseth God for his great liberalitie. The se­conde who supplieth the [Page 279]Contratenor called Ho­nour, praiseth the Lord for his vnspeakeable and in­comprehensible wi [...]bom. And the third who is c [...]l­led Praise, singeth the Te­nor, and praiseth him in his endles goodnes, boun­tie, excellency, and gene­rally in all that God is in himselfe. The sourth is Thankesgiuing, and serueth the Base, who thanketh the Lorde for all that hee hath created, and for all his benefites most liberal­ly powred & bestow­ed vppon all his creatures.

The twentie two Chapter in­treateth howe Desire did learne to sing.

THe musicke and y^e man­ner thereof did please Desire greatly. Behold quoth to desire God, wilt thou go hence, and return againe from whence thou art come, where should I trauaile answered Desire, for to be better then I am here where I am come w^t so much pain and labour? Now that I am welcome to a place where I may line in quiet, and be com­forted, I am not minded to change, for they say in [Page 281]a common prouerbe. De y^t is in blisse, let him remain where hee is. And I tell you sir, I wil not go hēce, vnles you doe thrust mee out of the dores. It is not our custome, qd To desire God, to turn any body out of the doores, vnlesse they thēselues doe desire it, but rather doe intreat them to stay. But because they may know y^t we stand not in need of any body, there­fore sometimes doe aske them, if they are desirous for to go or not. But be­cause thou art willing to tarrie here with vs, thou must not bee idle. what must I doe qd Desire. All y^t they shall commande thee aunswered To desire God. And when I shall not bee [Page 282]commaunded at all, saide Desire, what shall I doe then? Sing answered To desire God, praise, thanke & magnifie the Lord. And whensoeuer y^u art about thy busines, & dost that is commanded vnto then, thē thou maiest yet sing to thy selfe, for to keepe thy thoughtes from idlenes. Further wilt y^u please our Lord, and become his fa­miliar frende, see y^t thou goest to speak oftentimes alone w^t him, and if y^u wilt profite greatly, bee daylie conuersant w^t him. Then shalt thou heare his aun­swers, who will disclose vnto thee many secretes, whereby y^u shalt grow fa­miliar with him, & becom one of his minions. May [Page 283]euery man who will, said Desire, come in his cham­ber and speake with him? I quoth To desire God, as far as he hath Humilitie in his company, I tel thee y^t it is his greatest ioy y^t wee should come to him, and awake him, for hee is of this nature y^t he cannot a­bide to be alone, and how base & simple soeuer a mā is, yet he reioyceth great­ly in his company, and will haue him to remaine with him continually. For his nobilitie and worthi­nes is so great, that hee doth not regarde the ex­ternall person, for there is no exceptions of persons with him, if his spirite bee humble: for one man hath cost him so deare as an o­ther, [Page 284]and hath created thē all of one substance, the earth. I which more is, the baser & viler the persō is, if he doth but debase & humble himself, the grea­ter fauour and courtesy he sheweth vnto him, and wil do him the more good. And I tell thee plaine, y^t the most part of these, that are dwelling here, are but of simple parētage & pro­genie. For God hath cho­sen those for his seruice, who were the abiectes of y^t worlde, to the ende y^t no body who dwelleth here should think him to be re­ceyued and intertained for his desarts & worthi­nes, but only through the goodnesse and meere mer­cy of God. Therefore if y^u [Page 285]art willing for to dwell here, and desirous not to loose, but to profite & fur­ther thy selfe, and procure that thy song bee accepta­ble vnto God, remember these four parts. The first is Good-will, the seconde Humilitie, y^t third Patience, the fourth Loue or Charity. And whensoeuer thou singest w^t these four parts, thou shalt neuer faile in thy songs. And although sometimes y^u flippest a note or two, or els doest not sing fast enough, pre­sently thou shalt come to the right tune againe by hearing onely. With good will thou shalt sing y^t Su­perius or Treble, for all y^t rest doth frame it selfe af­ter it, and with the second [Page 286]and third, namely w^t Hu­mility & Patience, y^u shalt sing the Contratenor, for Humilities & Patiences do­inges are contrarie to a mans wil and wilfulnes. And w^t the fourth, namely Loue, thou shalt sing all manner of musicke what­soeuer, & that w^t thy soule. & the sweetnesse of y^t holy Ghost. But aboue all thinges doe not forget to eat the fruit, which thou hast eaten in y^t Pallace of Humilitie, namely to Di­strust in thy selfe, and the greater thy loue and de­sire is towards God, and the greater friend thou art of the Lord, giue him the more of this fruite, for he loueth them wel, & gladly eateth of them.

The thirteenth chapter, how to desire God, did bring Desire into the chamber of the Lord, & besides in­treateth of an instruction to Praier.

I woulde praye you for to get one sauoure more at your hands, which is, seeing you haue enter­tained mee, & granted y^t I shall dwell here, that it may please you likewise to bring me to my Lord, for to know him, & to do vnto him homage & reuerence. I am contented, qd To De­sire God, go w^t me. Desire went trembling y^t he now should speak w^t so mightie a king & monarch in his [Page 288]chamber, and stand before his diuine maiesty, and was taken w^t such feare & trembling, that he neither durst nor coulde come be­fore y^t Lorde, in as much y^t hee was minded to turne backe againe. But when he remembred againe the nobilitie and vnspeakable courtesie and goodnes of this king, & how louing & affable▪ hee was to euery man, he comforted himself vppon his gratiousnesse, there vpon putting onely all his trust & confidence. Tarrie for mee here at the doore, saide to desire God, for I will go see what my Lorde doth, and tell him how y^u art here to speak w^t him, Desire was yet fear­full, studying what hee [Page 289]should say vnto the Lord, whē he shold come before him. Com hither qd to de­sire God, I haue tolde my Lorde how y^u art here. Go in therfore, and I wil stay here for thee. Desire began w^t great reuerence to goe through y^e chamber of pre­sence, & as soone as he did see the Lorde, fell downe flat vpon his face weeping bitterly, & durst not once lift vp his eyes, for he re­membred y^t he had beene a mortall enemye of his Lord, & had done him of­tentimes great iniury and wrong, in as much that he was not able to vtter one word, but onely did sigh & weepe, thinking alwaies y^t now he was in the pre­sence of this endlesse good­nes, [Page 290]whome hee had so of­tentimes, & so grieuously offended. What meaneth this, qd our Lord, where­fore doest thou come he­ther? doest y^u not speak? A­rise, & let me know thy de­sire. What can or shall I speake before thy incom­prehensible Maiestie? an­swered Desire. O my Lord I am not worthy to open my vile & vnclean mouth in thy sight, but suffer me now to bewaile by silence, sighes, & teares, my fore­past wickednes & iniqui­ty. Wherefore art y^u come hither quoth our Lord? I I am not come hither my Lord, answered Desire, for I do not thinke, y^t I haue deserued to dwell here in thy house, and yet lesse to [Page 291]come in thy maiesties chā ­ber, & presence. Who hath bronght thee hether then said our Lord: Thy grace hath drawne mee hether, hath caused me to be calde, & commanded to let mee come in, & to haue accesse vnto thee. I cannot tell my Soueraigne, what cause hath moued thy ma­iestie here vnto, or where­in thy grace hath neede of me, for it would suffice me & bee too much, that such a one as I am, might be y^e least of the seruants of thy house, & yet deserue not so much, and am altogether vnworthy of it. But seeing thy goodnesse hath nowe called me, and y^t inpleaseth thee, y^t I shold dwell heere & speake vnto thee, open [Page 292]y^u my lips, and teach mee what I haue to say in thy presence, powre in me y^e spirit of feare & reuerence, to the end thy Maiesty be not offended, or in disho­nor serued by me, & dispi­sed of such a wicked and vile sinner as I am. Ra­ther I would be ready to suffer a thousande deathes then to offend and despise thy highnes. For hereby I shoulde dishonour and iniury the Angels, Arch­angelles, & all Celestiall powers, who intirely loue thy goodnes: & serue the w^t such zeale, glorie, & reuerence. Declare vnto me O Lord, what I shall speake & direct mee in all my doings, for I commit my selfe wholly into thy [Page 293]hands, yeelding my soule & body wholly vnto thy maiesty. Giue me O Lord y^t spirite of Humilitie, to y^e end I may serue thy con­gregation and children y^e better, and that my seruice may bee pleasant & accep­table in thy sight for thy names sake, and y^t thy ma­iesty may bee honoured & praised in me.

The fourteenth Chapter in­treateth of the instructi­on which our Lorde did giue vnto Desire, for to rule and gouerne him­selfe.

ARise, quoth y^e Lord to Desire and feare no more: and if thou hereafter [Page 294]wilt become a new man, & such a one as y^• oughtest to bee, then I will remē ­ber no more the iniury which y^u hast done me, and put out of my memorie all thy misdeedes & offences, wherewithall y^u hast grie­ued me so oftentimes. But because y^u inaiest a­mend and becom better, I wil teach thee foure words which will not profit thee a little, if thou doest remē ­ber and printest them in thy hart. Take these two, I, and thou, which are the two first: and y^e other two Slaue and King. And if y^u canst rightly put these words in practise, they will bringe thee to great vertue & perfection, & de­fende thee against all thy [Page 295]naturall and vnbrideled affections, & cause thee to remaine and liue w^t euery man in peace & vnitie. I pray thee, my onely Lord, and Soueraigne, qd De­sire, that it may please thee to shew vnto me, howe I might best exercise my self with these foure wordes? Thou mayest refer all thy exercise to these words, for they contain in thē a great and deepe knowledge, whereof one might write great volumes, and whereby without bookes one might likewise attain to great perfection, Ther­fore whensoeuer y^u cōmest to speak with me, or goest about any thing which is commanded thee, & art al­together faint, cold, & vn­willing [Page 296]then perswade thy self, that I do speak to thee these words, I & Thou & no more: & thus forget al y^e world, & think y^t there is no body in the worlde, but I and Thou. The other two wordes, Slaue & King, shal serue thee, for to deale and frequent w^t them: first of all, in imagining that y^• art Slaue vnto them all, and by these meanes thou shalt become humble and obedient. Secondly, that y^u art thine owne King, & that I make all Kinges rich, & bestow vpon them pleasure & goods aboun­dantly. Let this instructi­on at this time suffice thee, and thus depart in peace.

Wherefore wilt thou O Lorde, that I should goe [Page 297]away, said Desire, because answered the Lord, thou shouldest not thinke that thou hast deserued it, and art worthy to remain al­waies with me but ouely as long as I think good, or whensoeuer I call or sende for thee, to the end thou becom not presump­tuous or vaine-glorious. Therefore whensoeuer I will haue thee, I wil send for thee, yet before y^u goeft hence, leaue thy hart with me, to y^e end in what place soeuer y^u commest, that the chiefest & the best may still remam w^t me: I am here­vnto willing my Lord qd Desire, I giue thee trancke and freely my whole hart. I am content answered y^e Lord, y^• now it remaine w^t [Page 298]me, but thinke not that y^u canst doe it so oftentimes as thou wilt thy selfe, and besides I will neuer keep i [...] w^t me without the pro­fite and furtherance to hu­militie. But yet of one thing, which thou know­est not, I will admonish thee, which is, the more crosses, aduersities and miseries I lay vppon my seruantes, the wore ioy, cōforte & blessednes I am minded and endeuour to bestow vpon them. But wilt thou leaue thy dogge Good will here to mee, for will may he remain here if y^u commende him euery day vnto me, & do not thy selfe take him away from me. Wherefore qd Desire, is it necessarie to cōmende [Page 299]him euery day vnto thee, once would it not suffice? No, answered y^e Lord, not because I should forget it, but because thou shouldst not come to forget mee, & y^t thou mightest alwaies haue occasion to haue mee in remembrance, to y^e end I may do thee good, and com to succor thee in time of thy trouble & necessi­ty. For what doth it help or profite me, whether y^u hast mee in minde or not? I thanke thee my Lorde, qd Desire, that y^u doest ac­quaint me before with thy wil and pleasure, wherby onely thou worliest and bringest to passe in vs all things, as if thou shol­dest seeme to stand in need of vs, where it is onely [Page 300]but to our profite and sal­uation.

The fifteenth Chapter howe Desire did exercise him in these foure wordes, and what profite hee rea­ped thereby.

DEsire depar­ted out of the Lordes chāber, lea­uinge: his hart behind him, and did finde to De­sire God watching at the doore. What hast thou done so long within, qd to Desire God. Doest y^u think that many wordes please the Lorde? Sometimes y^u shalt doe more with one word with him, then with [Page 301]a hundreth. Ah Syr, aun­swered Desire, I thinke that I haue not beene long with him. Go with­in answered to desire God, seeing thou are nowe en­tertained here. I will go into my chamber, saide Desire. Go in the name of the Lord, quoth he. De­sire dayly remembred the foure wordes, which the Lorde had giuen him, oftentimes repeating I, and Thou, Slaue, King, and sometimes did part, con­founde, and mingle them together, but they fell al­waies right, for hee tooke the one and saide I, and then the other Slaue. Yet I speake right, quoth he, for I am for the loue of my Lorde a slaue. Some­times [Page 302]hee tooke the other and saide, I King. I do not misse yet, for I am a king, said hee, being Gods ser­uante, for to serue him, is to commande, to go­uerne, and to be a mighty Prince.