AT what time the Earth dismantled of her braue Attire,A description of the dead of winter. lamented the absence of Dame Aestas company, & that faire Phoe­bus in his Retrogradation, entring the Tropique of Capricorne, and mounting in the Zodiacke, licensed naked Hyemps, to powre down her wrath vpon the face of the whole world: through dread of whose boysterous stormes, euery liuing creature, by the direction of Nature retired himselfe vnto his safest succour, as the Birde to his Nest, the heast to his Couert, the Bée to his hiue, the Ser­pent to his hole: onely Man excepted,Man by reason inlargeth the bounds of na­ture, within whose limites euery other creature liueth. who (being beautifi­ed with a diuine spirite, and armed with reason, farre aboue the reach of Nature) scorneth to be chayned vnto any place, through the violence or iniurie of Tyme.

In this dead season, such were my Affaires, that Necessi­tie sent me into a Countrey farre from home, whereas I was no lesse vnacquainted with the people, then ignorant of the waies:This was the Forrest of Ra­uenna in Ita­lie, (for the most part) of pine Apple trees. and hauing trauailed the great part of a Christ­mas Eue in a desart Forrest, strayed out of knowledge; I tooke me to a déepe beaten way, which promised a likelyhood to finde out some spéedie Harbour: and after I had iornied the space of an houre, in a swéete Groaue of Pyne Apple trées, mine eye fastened vpon a stately Pallace, the bright­nes whereof, glimmered through the Branches of the youn­ger [Page]woodde,This Pallace was 10 miles from Rauen­na towards the Riuer of Poe. The custome of Christmas. not vnlike the Beames of the Sunne through the Crannelles of a wall, assuring then my selfe, to receiue best Instructions of the better sort of people: such was my haste, as I soone arriued at this sumptuous place: but ac­cording to the condition of time, in Christmas, sooner to finde a friend feasting in the Hall, then walking in the field: other then a few of ignorant peysants, I could perceiue no person. The delight I tooke to beholde the scituation, and cu­rious workmanship of this Pallace, made me so long for­get the cause of my arriuall there, as in the ende one of the well qualited seruants (hauing knowledge of my being without) in a seruisable order, came and presented me with his Lords curteous welcome, and reuerently requested mée to alight and enter the Pallace: which imagined this enter­tainment to be but an Italion curtesie, after thanks giuen, by a modest excuse, refused so great a fauour, and onely cra­ued, to be directed the readiest waie to Rauenna: the seruant cunningly replying, that I could not bée receiued into the Citie without his Lords Bollytyne, Bollytine, a warrant of health with­out which, no man may tra­uel in Italy. and at this time he sea­led no mans safe conduct, without knowledge, that his af­fayres required great haste: in so much, as won with his importunities, and ouercome with wearinesse of Trauell, I committed my Horse, to the ordering of my man, and ac­companied this officious seruant to wards the Pallace, and by the way, ouer a large entrance into a faire court, I might reade these two briefes in Italion.

Which generall inuiting, imboldned me so far, as I hard­ly marched towards the great Hall, the Skréene whereof, was curiously fronted with cloudy Marble, supported on e­uery side the passages,Welcome and Bountie, the porters. with stately Pillers of Geate: and o­uer the thrée Portalls, stood the Images of two men: the one of Allablaster Marble, bare headed, representing the vertue of welcome: the other of blew Marble, attyred like a Cooke, and by him were artificially painted, Pheasants, Partriges, [Page]Capons, and other costly Cates, as the figure of Bountie: at the entry of this stately Hall, I was receiued by the Lord of the Pallace, accompanied with diuers Gentlemen of good qualitie, with so ciuill and friendly intertainement, as his behauiour blazoned the true knowledge of curtesie: before wée past any further, I began to recount the aduenture which brought me thither, and craued his honourable fauor for my dispatch: why? then (quoth Segnior Phyloxenus) for so (for some cause) I name the Lord of the Pallace, I thanke your hard fortune for arriuing you here, to do me this honor: no hard, but happy fortune (quoth I) if I may liue to honor you with any effectual seruice, wel (quoth he) after your we­rie trauaile, it is more néedefull to prouide for your repose, then for a further iourney, and so lead mée the way into a faire great Chamber, richly hung with Tapistrie: the roofe whereof was Allablaster plaister, embost with many curi­ous deuises in golde, and in sundry places in proper colours was ingraued his deuise, which was A Holly tree, full of red beries: and in the same, a fluttering Mauis fast limed to the bowes. with this posie in french, Qui me nourit, me destru­it: And in verie déede, the beries of the trée féedeth this bird, and the barke maketh Lime to fetter her. But I after­wards learned, Segnior Philoxenus vsed this Ensigne as a couert description of desire:A couert de­scription of de­sire. whose swéete torments nouri­sheth the minde, but consumeth the bodie to the graue. In this beautifull place, I embraced the salutations of such a braue troupe of Gentlemen, and Gentlewomen, as the honour of the householde might well giue Enuie vnto some Princes Court. And least, at my first comming, I might bée abashed through small acquaintance, Segnior Philoxe­nus emboldened mée with a familiar communication,A ciuill fore­sight meete for a Gentle­man. and in the ende vppon a conuenient occasion, demaunded of mée the name of my Countrie? I answered him, I was a Gentleman of England, voluntarily exiled with a bur­ning desire, to sée the Monuments of other Countries,A necessarie regard for tra­uelers. the order of their gouernement, and manners of the people. And are you of that blessed Ile (quoth he?) where the people liue in peace & prosperity, vnder the rule of a Maidē Quéene, [Page]crowned with such diuine vertues,The vertues of the Queenes Maiestie, ma­keth the Iland of England famous throughout the whole World. as the whole world may hardly containe her fame. Sir (quoth I) your good testimo­nie of her worthinesse, being a Stranger, taketh all occasi­on from mée (her dutifull subiect) to inlarge her renowne. O (quoth he) if Enuie durst detract her openly, as she secretlie conspireth her ouerthrowe, in these parts you should be dri­ven to stop your eares, or endure a torment (to a faithfull subiect) more violent then Death. But the vertue of her Shielde,Vertue stop­peth the mouth of En­uie, but fireth her heart with malice. I meane her graue Senate, hath returned the Dartes of Enuie so thick vpon her shoulders, as she hath no power to eclips her bright renowne, whose vertue shineth in Enuies despight as a Diamond in an obscure place, or as the Sune through small passages, into the bowels of the earth: so that happy and thrice happie are you, the Subiects of the good Quéene of England, whose gracious gouerne­ment filleth your Cofers with wealth, sealeth your dores with peace, and planteth quietnesse in your Conscience: so that (blessed aboue other Nations) you liue abroad, without suspition of danger at home: and at home fearelesse of ene­mies abroade. Wherefore, in honour of your Soueraigue, whose fame armeth all true knights, with an earnest desire to doo her seruice, I am glad of the meane to bestow on you, or any of hir nation, the affection of a friend. Sir (quoth I) the vertue of these honorable thoughts blaseth the true magnanimity of a noble minde, which measureth not your fauour by the desart of others, but with the royaltie of your heart,The true Bla­zon of a noble minde. and so binde thousands in recognisance of seruice, among which debters I desire to be inrolled, although I can discharge but little. After we had bestowed a small time in these like spéeches, he commanded some of his seruants to di­rect mée vnto a lodging (if I pleased) to be dispoiled of my ri­ding attire: who straight waies brought mée into a Bed Chamber, so wel accommodated with euery necessarie plea­sure, as might haue serued for the repose of Cupid and his lo­ner Ciches: hauing a faire prospect into a goodly Garden, beautified with such rare deuises, as deserued to bée com­pared with the earthly Paradice of Tiuoly. Tiuoly 12. miles from And to be briefe, this Pallace, with all her conueiances, as well necessarie, [Page]as of pleasure,Rome, where the Cardinall of Esta hath a most rare Garden. Cardinal Fur­nesaes pallace in Rome. fully matched the statelinesse of Cardinall Furnesaes Pallace, builded and beautified, with the ruinous Monuments of Rome in her pride: so that the curiousnesse thereof was of power to haue inchaunted my eyes with an immodest gaze, had I not remembred, that it belongeth vnto a Gentleman to sée, and not to stare vpon the strangest No­uell that is: for bace is his minde, whose spirit hourely be­holdeth not greater matters then either beautie,A necessarie obseruation for a Gentle­man. building or brauerie. And certainely, at this instant, I delighted more to contemplate of Segnior Phyloxenus vertues, then to re­garde his sumptuous buildings, who (as I learned of one of the Seruants) all the yéere opened his dores to euery ciuill Gentleman, and at Christmas, inuited all commers,A worthie Custome. as a customarie dutie: so large was the prescription of his curte­sie. But, which shined aboue the rest, he was in his youth, brought vp in the French Court, where, by the grace of God, and labour of some good friend (as his behauiours could not but win many) hée learned to serue God, with purenesse of heart, and not with painted ceremonies,H. was a Pro­testant. as his superstitious Countrie men doe: which was one chiefe cause, why he spake so reuerently of the Quéenes Maiestie, whose vertues make her enemies dumbe, for malice will not let them say well, and shame forbids them to speake a­mis of her sacred life: by the time I had talked a while with one of the seruants, and put my selfe in a more ciuill or­der, then was necessarie for trauaile, supper was in a redi­nesse: which although it excéeded the common order of fasts, yet it passed not farre the bounds of ancient custome: for my place at the Table, I had the priueledge of a stranger, set a­boue my degrée, and with the same intertainment, were Frenchmen, Almain, Duchmen and other Gentlemen,Other stran­gers arrmed by the like adue ture. A custome g [...] ­nerally vsed in France, and in some places of Italy. stran­gers, intreated. The Grand Master of the feast, in words gaue vs one welcome for all, but not so few as a thousand in affable countenances. Supper being ended, according to the custome of the place, a Cake was cut in péeces, to the number of the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen present, and if the marked péece were allotted vnto a man, he should bée King, if to a woman, she should be Quéene of the Christmas [Page]pleasures: for it was agréede, there should be but one to com­maund, and all to obay. Madona Aurelia, Sister to the Lord of the Pallace, was crowned with the lot, whose worthi­nesse was such, as herein it séemed fortune obayed desert: for there was no Gentlewoman in the troupe, that Aurelia ex­relled not in beautie, and singularity of wit, nor no Gentle­man, that her vertues inchaunted not, with more admirati­on, then the Sirens swéete songs, the wether wearied Say­ler, so that of the one she was crowned with Enuie, and of the other with Honor. But in as much, as this was but the first night of her raigne, shée referred the Proclamation of her lawes vntill the next day, and so dismist the atten­dance of her subiects for that night, which (in sooth) lasted me but a sléepe, so soundly after trauel, I imbraced mine ease.

The next Day nosooner appeared, but the Trumpets sounded the honor of Christmas: vpon which Sommons, the compauie rose, and (attired in their most sumptuous wéedes) in the great Chamber attended their Quéene Aure­lia, who about Seruice time, (with the Maiestie of a god­desse) presented her selfe: on whome all the troupe waigh­ted vnto the Chappell, where the Seruice was not so cere­monious, as in other Churches of Italy, and yet more then agréed with Segnior Phyloxenus conscience, onely to giue no offence, to the superstitious zeale of others. The Ser­uice ended, against the returne of the company, the Tables were couered in a most stately order, & with the sound of trū ­pets, were furnished with so many seueral dainty disshes, as the rialtie of the feast might haue pleased Heliogabalus: Heliogabalus a most volup­tuous emperor of Rome. Af­ter Quéene Aurelia was set, the rest tooke their accustomed places: but (God knowes) the eyes of the greater part were more hungrie then their scomacks: for their appetites were dulled, with the ouerplentie of meates, and their desires quickened, with the regarde of the faire Gentlewomen.

The dinner and euery solemne seruice ended, Segnior Phyloxenus committed the company to the good intertaine­ment of his Sister Aurelia, and (with a speciall sute) reco­mended me vnto her fauour: after viewe was taken of the attendants, certaine Gentlemen and Gentlewomen (by the [Page]appointment of Quéene Aurelia) were adopted with the names of their fortunes, as occasion will manifest hereafter: and for that I was a traueller, she called me Caualiero Isma­rito, in English, The wandring Knight: whereupon, Madam (quoth I) you haue christened mée with the true name of my fortune: for I was but late out of my way, & now am stray­ed out of my selfe: where are you then quoth Aurelia? at your onely direction (quoth I:) wel (quoth she) since so cunning­ly you preferre your selfe, I admitte you my seruant, and as you deserue, so will I reward: and Madam quoth I, if I bée not loyall, let me not liue: well (quoth the) I expect the best. The rest of the affaires set in good order, the Harold proclai­med the lawes, whereunto the Gentlemen and Gentlewo­men were bound, with the penalties for the breach of them.

• FIrst, euery Gentleman, and Gentlewoman, were coniu­red faithfully to execute all the charges, and offices assig­ned by their Quéene Aurelia, and that they should bée atten­dant of her pleasure.
• Item euery Gentleman was bound, to serue some one mi­stresse, before the next day at noone, vpon paine to bée turned into the great hall, among the countrie Trulles the whole Christmas. And euery gentlewoman that had not a seruant, was iudged vnworthie, to be courted for one wéeke: for his merit was hoiden very small, y^t could be intertained of none, and her conditions very crooked that was beloued of none.
• Item euery Gentleman was bound to giue his owne mi­stresse the honor of his seruice, and the chiefe place in his commendations, vpon paine, to lose her seruice, and to bée entertained of no other. For hée that was disloyall to one, could not be holden faithfull vnto another.
• Item euery Gentlewoman was bound, to imploy her owne seruant, vpon paine to bée reputed simple. For shée that affyed not in her owne Seruant, had no reason to trust anothers.
• Item euery Gentleman was bound, to defend the honor [Page]of his Mistresse, both with word and sword, vpon paine to be reputed a Coward, and not to weare her gloue. For hee was holden very vnsufficient, that prised not his Mistresses honor aboue his owne life.
• Item, euery Gentlewoman was bound to incourage her Seruant with good countenances, and vpon the execution of any worthy seruice to rewarde him, with the kissing of her hand, vpon paine to be déemed vnworthy to bee serued. For she of all the world is accounted too rygorous a Dame, that with scorne receiueth dutifull seruice.
• Item, euery Gentleman was bound to Court his mi­stresse with Ciuill speeches, vpon paine to be forbidden, to talke of loue for thrée dayes. For hee was accompted bace mannered, or very grose witted, that could not pleasantly entertaine time with a ciuill discourse.
• Item, euery Gentleman was bound, either by some exer­cise of value, or by some shew of excellēcy of wit, to approue himselfe worthy of his mistresse: vpon paine to bee spoyled of his Armes, and the whole Christmas to attend with the Pages: for he was holden vnworthie the societie of men, or the affection of woman, that was neither valiant nor wise.

These Lawes proclaimed, Quéene Aurelia appointed an elderly Courtier named Fabritio, and a well spoken Gentle­woman, called Donna Isabella, to be Iudges of the contro­uersies, in disputation: and to attend her in her affaires of pleasure, she chused Segnior Soranso, a Gentleman Italion, of wit quick and sharp, and for his deuices, swéete and plea­sant: Don Dondolo, a Napolitan, haughtie and proude in his conceits. Monsier Bargetto a Frenchman, amarous and light headed.Courtesie vnto strangers, is a marke of Gen­tilitie. Doctor Mossenigo, a Germaine so called, for the plaine discouery of his minde. Segnior Faliero a Scot, subtill and cunning in his deuices: and my selfe Caualiero Is­marito, an Englishman, in which name hereafter, I will pre­sent those actions that touch my selfe.

This wise choice she made to priueledge the Strangers with the highest fauour.

Of Gentlewomen, shée chused Maria Belochy, a Damo­sell, whose eye was able to fire a mountaine of Ice. Lucia [Page]Bella, for fairenesse and swéete behauiour an Angel. Hellena Dulce, a louing and affable Gentlewoman. Franceschina sancta, so called for her modest and lowly countenance: Ka­therina Trista, a sowre and testy Dame: Aluisa Vechio, who although she were in the wane of her yéeres, yet was she in the pride of yong desires.

This done, Quéene Aurelia, by consent,A diuision of their pleasure [...] deuided the exer­cises of euery day, into these times: the forenoone to be be­stowed in the seruice of God: after dinner two houres to be intertained in ciuil discourse, and disputation: the rest til sup­per at pleasure: and after supper to spend a time in dauncing, masking, or in other like pastimes, as occasion presented.

The greater part of Christmas day, was spent in establi­shing these orders, the rest was ouercome with solempne Musick, for, among the better forte that day is honoured, with no light mirth.

THe next day by nine a Clocke, according to one of the charges in the Proclamation, you might sée the youg Gentlemen & Gentlewomen, coupled together like foules on Saint Valentines day morning.

But Signior Ismarito, hauing the eies of his hart setled vpon his Mistresses beauty, with careles regarde, beheld the rest of the company: and leaning by a dore, thorow which she should passe, he awaighted Quéene Aurelias comming. Who at her accustomed howre, presented her selfe with an aduauntage of brauerie, whom the whole troupe reuerently saluted, and honorably accompanyed vnto the Chappell.

After Seruice, Dinner, and all were solemnly ended: Quéene Aurelia with a chosen company,Musick refresheth the wit. retyred her self into a pleasant drawing Chamber to execute the reported orde­naunce. But to quicken the Spirites of the company, before they entred into discourse, she commaunded a faire Eunuche Boy, to sing some one song, as he thought good, who obay­ing her commaundement, with a heauenly note, vnto the Lute sung this louing lay.

The swéet deliuery of this sonet, so inchanted the harts of the hearers, as for a space their sences gaue place to the con­templation of their soules. In the end Madona Isabella by this motion, made the whole company a passage for spéech.

If Loue be so swéet a passion (quoth she) I muse from what cause procéedeth the complaints of Louers, who with show­ring teares bedewe the earth with misty sights, dimme the aire, and with shrill outcries pearse the heauens.

The cause, quoth Soranso, procéedes of our fleshly imper­fectiōs, which corrupts the nature of good things, and not of any defect in loue:Loue simply is good. for loue is a simple deuine vertue, and hath his being in the soule, whose motions are heauenly.

I haue read (quoth Isabella) that there be sundry kindes of loue.

The vse of loue are diuers, quoth Soranso, as in zeale to­wards God,The distincti­ons of loue. in duety towards our Country, in obedience towards our parents, and in affection towards our fréends. [Page]All which motions procéede foorth of one loue, although some are more vehement then the other, euen as many Ri­uers doo run out of one Spring, whereof some haue a more swift course then the other. But of that passion which we ordinarily call loue, the wish either tends to Mariage or wantonnes.

There is matter of disputation in Mariage (quoth Fran­ceschina,)Knowne euik are not to be defended. because the estate is honorable, and yet subiect to crosse fortunes: But touching your conclusion of wanton­nes, deserues to dye in silence, for known euils are to be cha­stened without allowing their defences.

Madame (quoth Faliero) vnlesse you reuoke this sentence, we wil haue you indited at Rome as an heretick, for by the Popes Canons, Priests may not marry: and they haue a cu­stome among themselues, not to liue chaste.

Well (quoth Franceschina,) if the Pope for this opinion, burne me as an heretick, good men will cannonise me for a vertuous Virgin.

These digressions (quoth Quéen Aurelia) are the meanes (rather) to worke a confusion of our memories,A necessary note. then to con­clude any beneficiall matter for our instruction. And there­fore I hold it to greater purpose (substantially) to handle one argument, thē (sieightly) to ouerrun many causes, where the doubts we leaue vnresolued, wil be more dangerous vnto y^e hearer, then the counsels we vse, profitable vnto y^e follower.

Madame,A contention whether Mari­age or the sin­gle life is the worthier. (quoth Fabritio) I hold it good we obey your di­rection. And for that Mariage is the most honourable euent of Loue: and that a Single life is the greatest testimony of Chastity: A ciuill Contention, to proue which is the most worthy of the two, would conclude much contentment: For as Yron and Flynt beat together, haue the vertue to smite fire: so mens wits encountring in doubtfull questions ope­neth a passage for imprisoned Truth.

Quéene Aurelia, Argument de­cideth doubts. and the rest of the company liked very well of the Subiect: and studying who were y^e fittest to deale in this controuersie, Aurelia (with a glauncing eye) behelde that her seruant Ismarito witsafed no greater token,Wise silence worketh more regarde then foolish talke. that he tooke delight in these actions, then (sometime) the secret be­stowing [Page]of a modest smile: whereupon she forethought, that as Floods, when they are most highest, make least noise: euen so (perchaunce) his still tongue was gouerned by a flowing wit, and desirous to sound his sufficiencie, she quickned him with this crosse surmise.

Seruant (quoth she) your sober lookes, promiseth a hope that you will vndertake Dianaes quarrell: but (which will serue in this question) I feare me, you commaund Loue, so much,A fault in ma­ny trauellers. as you contemne Mariage: And the greater is my su­spicion, in that you are a Trauailer: the nature of which sort of people, is to swell, with a monsterous disdaine of Mariage, The reason is (say they) their affections are paysoned, with the knowledge of womens so hamous euils, as they dare not venter of that vocation. But my opinion is, they haue lear­ned so many subtilties to deceiue a shiftles woman, as dand­led with the imbracements of sundry Loues, they forsweare Mariage, who bindes them to one only wife: And if you be infected with the humour of these sorte of Trauailers, you may well vndertake this charge:All vnmarried passe vnder the name of chast. for Venus, though she loue not Diana, yet is she the sworn enemie of Iuno. And if you be sound from this infirmitie, the little haste you make to mar­ry, witnesseth, you honor Hymen with no great deuotion, and therfore, I commaund you to vse all your possible proofs in the Defence of a Single life, and for your assistance. I do appoint you Lucia Bella, whom this charge cannot mislike, because (as I vnderstand) she means to be a professed Nun: You are to encounter the opinions of many, and therefore arme your selues with as good reasons as you may.

Madame (quoth Ismarito) I am so deepely bound vnto your commaundement, as I am driuen to leaue your sugge­stions not answeared, and my owne innocency vnexcused, and only attend the incounter of him, that wil maintain Ma­riage, to be more worthy then a Single life: which vocation of Mariage, though I reuerently honour, yet I so zealously affect the other, as I hope (where the Iudges are indifferent) to make the glory thereof to shine as the faire white, aboue euery other colour.

Sir,Defences of Mariage. quoth Soranso, though white be a faire colour, yet are [Page]the choyse of all other colours more rich and glorious: so, though Virginitie (which is the fairest flower of a Single life) be precious in the sight of God, and in the opinion of men, yet is Mariage more precious, in that it is a sacred instituti­on of God, and more honoured of men: the Married are re­uerently intertained, when the vnmarried are but familiar­ly saluted. The Maried in assemblies, are honoured with the highest places, the vnmarried humble themselues vnto the lowest. To be short, Virginitie is the handmaide of Mariage. Then, by how much the Master is greater then the seruant, by so much Mariage is more worthy then is Single life.

I confesse, quoth Ismarito, Mariage is an honourable e­state,Defences of a single life. instituted of God, and embraced of men, but whereon had she her beginning? vpon this cause, to kéepe men from a greater inconuenience: as the Law was founded vpon this reason to punish the trespasses of men. But if no offence had béen giuen, the Law had not néeded: So if man had li­ued within bounds of reason, (which before any commaun­dement giuen; was vnto him a Law) Mariage might haue béen spared: and therefore in y^e highest degrée, is but a vertue vpō necessitie: where Chastitie, is a deuine vertue, gouerned by the motions of the soule, which is immortall, and partici­pating of the same vertue is alwaies fresh and gréene. The euerspringing Bay, is the Metamorphosis of chaste Daphnè, whome Apollo, although he were a soueraigne God, could not allure to Mariage, which proueth Chastity a true spark of Diuinitie, whose twinkling reflexions, so daseleth the eyes of imagined Gods (whose powers must néedes be more great then the greatest of men) as they cannot sée an end of their incontinent desires: whereas the beauty of Mariage is ma­ny times blasted by fortune, or the frailtie of the Maried. Therfore (think I) by how much deuine things are of grea­ter emprise then earthly, by so much the Single life is more worthy then the Maried.

And in aduauntage, (quoth Lucia Bella) where Soranso saith, that there is great honor done vnto the married, and to the Single is giuen light regard, I pray you whether are Bacchus minions or the Muses most reuerenced? among men [Page]whose places are hyer then the Cleargies? and among wo­men, whose greater then the religious Dames?

They haue not this preheminence (quoth Faliero) because they professe a Single life, Defences of Mariage. but because their function is more sacred then other mens,The cause why the clear­gie are reueren­ced. who if their prayers to God be no more zealous, then their vowes to chastity are stedfast, you fly to the authority of a company as spotted as Labans Shéepe.

But where Sir Ismarito saith, that Mariage is but a vertue vpon necessity, to restraine man from a greater euill: I ap­prooue it an estate set downe by Nature, and that man hath but amplified it with certain ceremonies, to make perfect the determination of nature: For we dayly sée in vnreasonable creatures, Mariage is (in a sorte) worshipped: Fowles of the Aire (I meane) the he and the she, cupple together, flie toge­ther, féed together, and neast together. The Turtle is ne­uer merie after the death of her Mate: and in many brute beastes the like constancy is found: But (generally) there is neuer iarre nor misliking betwéen the Male and Female of vnpollitique creatures:Vnpollitick creatures reue­rence mariage. and among the most barbarous peo­ple that euer liued, by the impresson of nature, Mariage hath (euermore) béen reuerenced and hououred: Much more ciuill people ought to affect this holy estate: And where Ismarito attributes such glory vnto a Single life, because that Daphne was metamorphosed into a Bay Trée, whose branches are alwaies gréene: In my opinion, his reason is faired like the Bay Trée: for the Bay trée is barren of pleasant fruit, and his pleasing words of weighty matter. Furthermore, what re­membrance is there of faire Sirinx coynesse, refusing to be God Paris wife? other then that she was metamorphosed in­to a fewe vnprofitable Réedes: Or of Anaxaretes chaste cru­elty towards Iphis, ouer then y^t she remaineth an Image of Stone in Samarin. Many other such like naked Monuments remain of nice contemners of Mariage. But in the behalfe of Mariage thousands haue béen changed into Oliue, Pomegra­nate, Mulberie, and other fruitfull trées, swéete flowers, Starres, and precious stones, by whom the world is beau­tified, directed and nourished. In many well gouerned com­mon [Page]wealths, Sterility hath béene reputed so vile, as the Aged was of no man honoured that had not children of his owne to do him reuerence. Then by how much those things which nourish with increase are more necessary then those things, which but simply please the eye: by so much the ma­ried is more worthy then the single life.

Sir, quoth Ismarito, it séemeth that you haue read a Leafe more then Saint Katherins Nun:Defences of a single life. for she (simply) tried all things, and you (subtilly) vse but what serueth your owne turne: you reproach a Single life, with Barrennesse, and com­mend the fertility of Mariage; but had you showen y^e wéedes with the Corne, bare pasture would haue returned as great a benefite as your haruest. The Monsters, Serpents, and loathsome Creatures, mentioned by Ouid in his Metamor­phosis, were they not I pray you the fruites of Mariage? as wel as the blessings, which you so affectedly reported: Oedi­pus was glad to scratch out his eyes, because he could not in­dure to beholde the vices of his Children. The good Empe­rour Marcus Aurelius in his aged daies, neuer rose that he sighed not, neuer dined that he fretted not, nor neuer went to bed that he wepte not: to heare, sée, and consider the monstrous euils of his Children. Admit the Maried haue vertuous Children, they may dye when they are yong, then the goodnes of their liues, increaseth sorowes by their deathes: and where the comfort is so doubtfull, it is not a­misse to refuse the hazard of the gréefe:Vertuous fame is ano­ther life. neither dyeth there any of Dianas band, but that their vertues reuiueth them as the ashes of the Phenix turneth to another Phenix.

It is for some Phenix sake, quoth Quéene Aurelia, that you thus stoutly defend a Single life.

I doo but your commaundement quoth Ismarito.

I (quoth she) it is at my commaundement, but yet for some others merite.

Aluisa vechio, The impatien­cie of women wil not be hid. fearing that mariage would receiue some disgrace if that Quéene Aurelia fauoured the Defence of a Single life, could not longer suppresse her affections, but with a womans Impatiencie, blamed the rigour of Diana, who condemned Acteon to be deuoured of his owne [Page]Hounds, who caused swéet Adonis to be staine by a wilde Boare: with many other cruell partes, vnséeming the na­turall pittie of a woman: but (which might haue saned a great deale of Argument, or at the least, which will now soone end the Controuersie:) compare (quoth she) Iuno and Diana together, and by their callings you may easily iudge who is the worthier. Diana (poore soule) is but a Goddesse here on earth, and Iuno is Quéene of Heauen: Dianaes force is in her Bow and Arrowes, Iuno bestoweth Thun­derbolts vpon her enemies: Diana is attired with gréene leaues, and Iuno with glorious Starres: Diana féedeth on rawe fruites, and drinketh colde water: Iunoes Feastes are of Manna and her bowles are fild with Nectar: Dianaes mu­sick is no better then the voyces of a few Nimphes: Iuno is recreated with the harmony of Angels: Dianaes pastime is (a foote) to chace the fearefull Roe, where Iuno (in Phaetons winged Chariot) pursueth a thousand seuerall pleasures: then, by how much the pomp of Iuno excéedeth the naked Triumphs of Diana, by so much Mariage must néedes be more worthy then the Single life.

Lucia Bella that should haue answered Aluisa Vechio, (not vnlike the Marigolde that closeth her Beauty, when Phoebus is attired with his brightest rayes) so admired the glory of Iuno, Vaine glorious shewes bewit­cheth women. that as an inchaunted creature, her tongue forgot her naturall office: the reason was, her hart was so­denly surprised with an ambitious desire of honor.

Which change, Ismarito perceiued with the first: and least her silence should conclude a yéelding: All is not golde (quoth he) that glistereth, Contentment neither followeth the grea­test, nor scor­neth the mea­nest. nor euery thing counterfet that is not curiously garnished: a smiling countenance is no ful te­stimony of a merry hart, nor costly Garments of a rich Purse: And (perchaunce) the griefe of Iunoes secret discon­tentments, is greater then the delight of her glorious pomp: where Diana, who (as a Diamond in the darke, shineth of her selfe) néedeth not the Ornaments of Iuno. And as she is (simply) of a pure substance, so her thoughts must néedes be swéet and quiet.

Sir (quoth Maria Belochy) our soundest iudgements are [Page]of those things that we our selues sée: therefore, if the ap­parance of Mariage be worthier th [...]n the apparance of the single life: if sentence be truly pronounced, it must be in the behalfe of Iuno.

Quéene Aurelia p [...]rceiuing the increase of Ismaritos ad­uersaries, (for who can stop a streame, measure the sire, weigh the winde, or hinder Fancies passages) and with all considering how that the controuersie was sufficiently de­bated, commanded the contenders to kéepe silence: and re­ferred the question to be iudged by Fabritio and Isabella.

Who hauing aduisedly considered, the reasons on both sides, agréed that a single chast life pleased God, because Cha­stity is pure: and also delighteth man, because shee quieteth the minde: but a chast maried life, both pleaseth and honoreth God: because Mariage hourely presenteth the worlde, with the Image of himselfe: pleaseth and profiteth man, because she giueth him a companion, by affection, changed into his owne disposition: of whom he hath children, who in despight of death, preserueth him aliue. And therefore the sentence of them both, was pronounced by Fabritio, Sentence giuen in the behalfe of mariage. in the behalfe of Mariage: who withall, enlarged her prayses with the re­port of many swéete Blessings, which she liberally bestow­eth vpon her Subiects. But lest the company should haue béen fired with too hasty a desire of Mariage, hee cooled their affections with such caueats, as they that had their voyces ready tuned, to sing the prayses of God Hymen, were of the sodayne, as mute as a fish: by reason whereof, Fabritio had frée passage: for his counselling reporte: who, after many wordes, to either purpose deliuered, concluded with the o­pinion of Plato: That Mariage was a paradise on earth, Platoes opini­on of Mariage. if her Lawes be obserued: and a Hell in the House where her Statutes are broken.

The Gentlewomen wist not what to say to Fabritios bitter-swéete commendation of Mariage, vntill Bargetto quickned their tongues, by this pleasant suggestion.Pleasant talk is good phis [...]k for sorrowe.

If (quoth he) Platoes opinion be law, by the same reason women are either Angels, or Diuels.

And why not men, as well as women, (quoth Isabella) [Page]whose dispositiō beareth the greatest sway in this vocation.

I will shew you a reason, quoth Doctor Mossenigo, men with a meane can temper their passions:The extreame passions of a woman. when a woman hath no measure in her loue, nor mercy in her hate: no rule in her pittie, nor piety other reuenge: no iudgement to speak, nor patience to diffemble: and therefore she is likened vn­to the Sea,A Gundelo is a little Boate like a wherry. which (one while) is so milde, as a smal Gundelo indureth her might, and anon, with outrage she ouer whel­meth the tallest ship.

Ah master Doctor, quoth Katharina [...] I feare me you are so learned,Hien, some­times a man, and somtimes a woman. as like the Hyen, you change your selfe some­times into y^e shape of a womā: but yet of this malitious pur­pose, to learne their dispositions, only to reproch their kind: but had any of vs the cunning, to become a man but a while, I imagin, we should euer after loue y^t better to be a woman.

You haue rather cause (quoth Dondolo) to let master Doctor kisse your hand, (for commending your kinde) then to blame him, by a surmise of iniurie, offered vnto women: for if there be a few good, they couer the faults of a number that are euill: as a little golde guildeth a great quantity of iron: and for any thing he sayd, you haue as generall an in­terest in vertue, as in vice.

Yea, but (quoth Quéene Aurelia) he is to be blamed for his intent,The intent of euill is to be punished. which was euil, and deserueth not to bee praysed for the good which came of it, which was our merite.

Madame (quoth the Doctor) so much greater is the good you receiue by my Trespasse, as thereby you are honoured with the vertue, to forgiue.

Yea,Pardon is to be vsed in igno­rant, and not in wilful faults but (quoth she) remission is to bee vsed in ignorant offences, and not in wilfull.

My habite (quoth he) is a testimonie that I spake not of malice.

So much (quoth she) the greater is your fault, in that it procéeded vpon pleasure:The punish­ment of great offenders doth most good in examples. and where you think to priuiledge your selfe by your habite: for example sake, you shall at (open) Supper, bath renounce your heresie and make satis­faction, or abide the Iudgement, of these Gentlewomen.

If there be no remedie (quoth he) I must obey.

The Doctor thus taken tardie, gaue occasion of laugh­ter vnto the whole company.

Which, blowne ouer [quoth Soran so] we haue trauayled this day to an vnfortunate end: for that now, towards night we are entered into an open Champion, where we find ma­ny broad wayes to Hell, and but one crosse path to heauen.

Well (quoth Quéene Aurelia) we will take other times, to beate out the true passage: And (least wee be lated) wée will no further to day.

Whereupon, after a courtly reuerence done: Quéene Aurelia, with her Attendantes, shewed her selfe in the great Chamber, where she might repose her mind with the choice of sundrie pleasures: For his, or her disposition was very strange, that in that company could not finde both a Com­panion and sporte, that pleased his humor.

The first Nights Pastime.

AMong wise men, these Orders haue euermore béen obserued, or allowed: In the Church, to bée deuoute: in place of Iustice, to be graue: at home to be affable,Deuotion. and at meales to be merrie: for in the Church we talk with God, who séeth our hearts and hateth hypocrisie:Grauitie. in Iustice, we sit to chasten light demenours, then great were the shame, y^t our countenances should contemne our selues.

At home we rule and commaund, then were it Tyranny to vse seuerity there, where is no resistance.Affabilitit.

At meales to be merrie, digesteth meate, and refresheth the wit: then is he an enemie vnto himselfe, that contem­neth the rule of health, and the helper of knowledge.Mirth. How­soeuer the thrée first precepts were obserued, Segnior Phi­loxenus and his honourable guestes duly executed the last, who in the midst of supper hearing of Doctor Mossenigos pennance, hasted the execution.

The Doctor séeing there was no remedy, openly con­fessed that he had praysed women against his wist, for which he was condemned to [...] Ab renuntio, and to make satis­faction [Page]by some other meanes: And as he thought the con­trarie was the amends of euery trespasse, and therefore, whereas he had praysed them against his will, hée was ready to desprayse them with his will.Subtilty bea­teth true mea­ning with his owne sword.

Quéene Aurelia would haue taken exceptions to these wordes, but that the company cryed, The Doctor speakes Law, which she could not with Iustice violate, whereupon Mossenigo reported, as followeth.

Doctor Mossenigo his Satisfaction, for praysing women a­gainst his will.

IN the famous Citie of Vienna, in Austria, sometimes dwel­led a simple Sadler, named Borrihauder, who was maried to an olde crabbed shrew, called Ophella: the agréement of this couple was so notable, as the Emperour Charles the fift commaunded his Paynter Parmenio, to drawe their counterfeits, as a monument of furie. Parmenio comming to doe the Emperours commaundement, found Borrihauder wéeping with the agonie of his wiues stripes, and Ophellas chéekes as red as fire with the heate of her tongue: which straunge sight, chaunged his determination into a pleasant conceipt, and in place of their Counterfeits, in a fayre table, he drew an Element troubled with lightening, and vnder writ, Ophella, and in another Table fastned to the same, hée likewise drew an Eloment darkened with raine, and vnder writ, Borrihander. Parmenio presented this trauell vnto the Emperour. The Emperour séeing the two names, and not the shape of those he commaunded to be drawne, demaunded the Painters meaning herein, who plesantly answered, that he could not take the view of Ophellas face, for feare of be­ing fiered with the lightening of her tongue, and that Borri­hauder was drowned with teares, which as showers of rain followed the thunderclaps of his wiues Fistes: But in good time (had she died) this. Demideuil Orphella fel so ex­treamely sick, as in euery mans iudgement it was néedful to giue Phisick to her soule, but bootelesse to bestow any of her Body: Borrihauder séeing her, as he thought, at a good passe, [Page]was so accustomed to sorrow, as he determined to knole her passing bel, with this counterfeit mone. Ah deare God (quoth he) how vnhappy am I to lose my louing wife, my good wife, my swéete wife? O howe happy were I, that as we haue liued together, so wee might nowe die together. This pittious sound of her husband so melted the dying hart of Ophella, that like a candle consumed, that leaueth a little smoke in the wéeke, she lay both spéechlesse, and sencelesse, saue that the pangs of death somtimes threw a weak breath out of her mouth: but like vnto wilde fire, that burneth in water, the Corsiue, that would haue killed the diuel, in her case, recouered her to health, which was her husband, out of feare of her life, in despight of the iniurie of time past, fell to kisse and coll his Maide, which watched his gasping wife, before hée tooke order with the Clarke, to ring her knell: which Ophella, as dim as her sight was, perceiued, and Fu­rie, which was the last motion, that accompanied her in life, like a whirle wind, that w^e a sodain violence, draweth things into the ayre, so fired her heart with malice, to sée her hus­band in this iollitie with her mayd, as madnes gaue her the strength to crie. Ah, ah, Traytor, I am not yet dead: ah vil­laine, villaine, I am not yet dead: and through this passion, choller so dried her Catar, as shortly after, she perfectly re­ceiued her health: and so canuassed her husband Borrihau­der, as by the motions of sorrow, and payne, hee hung him­selfe in a Crabtrée. O quoth Katherina Trista, it was great dammage that Thymon of Athens was not in the towne, to shew all malitious men that trée. The diuell might haue p [...]t in their mindes, to haue hanged themselues.

This sodaine answere of Katherina Trista, tickled all the company with a laughter, a good parte whereof,A cunning an­swere taketh a­way the grace of a shrewd tale. were ready to scandall women, with a froward nature, being by this example, more fostered with despight then good vsage: who, now for feare of their owne reproch, amplifted not Master Doctors tale, with any other spightfull authorities.

For the History of Thymon of Athens dogged nature,Thymon of Athens was the sworne e­nemy of hu­manitie. was so well knowne to euery Gentleman, as the remem­brance of his name, assured them, that there neuer liued [Page]woman of so froward a condition: neither is it possible that euer any man againe should be so great an enemy to huma­nitie.

And thereupon [quoth Falerio] Thymon of Athens was without heyre or successour, and therefore is no able exam­ple to blame vs.

Neither had Ophella (for any thing wee heare) either heire or successor (quoth Aluisa Vechio:) then by your owne reason is of no authority to stander our sexe.

This one quip for another (although more mildely hand­led of the Gentlewomens side, according to their naturall modestie) quieted either part. In so much as Doctor Mos­senigo humbly desired to bée receiued into the grace of wo­men againe.

Nay, [quoth Quéene Aurelia] you deserue to be euermore banished the presences of women.

Alas good Madame, (quoth he) I did but your commaun­dement, and thereupon I appeale to the report of the com­pany.

Yea,A dutiful sub­iect is bound to obey his Princes words, and not linger vpon the effect. but (quoth she) my meaning was otherwise.

O Madame (quoth hee) Subiects are bound to execute their Soueraignes wordes, and are not priuiledged to inter­pret their charge to their owne fancie.

I sée well, [quoth Quéene Aurelia] that there is no dea­ling with a Lawyer, for they can defend their owne tres­passes with the same sworde,A fained frend is better then a dangerous o­pen enemy. wherewith they punish other mens offences: and therefore better to haue you a fayned friend (being so dangerous) then an open enemie: wherfore we pardon you.

By this time, Supper, and euery seruice of the Table ended. Wherupon Quéene Aurelia and the whole company rose, and saluted one another with a ciuill reuerence. The Musick summoned the young Gentlemen, and Gentlwo­men to dauncing: for (this night) they expected no other pastime, vnlesse it were dicing, carding, or such like vnthrif­ty sportes. And therfore as the night grew on, or they wax­ed weary, vntill the next morning they committed one an­other, a dio.

AVrora had no sooner forsaken her hus­band Tithons bed,A Description of the sunne rising. but that Phoebus asha­med of his ouer drowsy sléeping, in the darke Caues of Tartessus: hastely har­nesed vp his Horses, & in his fierie Cha­riot, climed the mountaine Oeta, the painfull trauel whereof made brighte Pyrois, and sparkling Phlegon, Pyrois and phlegō fained to be two of the Suns Cock horses. breath flames like the bur­ning Furnace, wherein Vnlcan forgeth the Thunderboltes of Iupiter: In so much as Phoebus golden rayes (which beau­tifieth the Heauens, and comforteth the earth) pearced through euery small passage, into Segnior Philoxenus Pal­lace: and glimmering in the young Gentlemens faces, wa­kened them, with an imaginatiō of their mistresse beauties,The bed re­sembleth the Graue. (who scorning their beds, as graues which buried y^e one half of their pleasures, & the Cannapies, as cloudes that shado­wed the brightnes of their Load Stars) now started vp, to honour and salute the Images of their hearts delight: & to waken the Ladies & gentlewomen (who of the sodaine could not be attyred) y^e tingling of a smal Bel gaue them warning of a Sermon. Insomuch as by nine of the clocke, Quéene Aurelia and her stately attendants entered the Chappell, in such Equipage, as I thinke the Preacher,Laureta, com­monly called Loretto, the great pilgri­mage of Italy, where is a small Chappel, sometimes made by the cunning of certaine Friers, and the consent of some of the Citizens of Racanati: onely to bring Fraffique to their Citie, destroyed by the Gothes and Vandals: and in the night stole it out of the towne, and spread a rumor, that our Lady by Angels had brought it out of Iury: the mansion house wherein she there liued, which Fable a number holde for a trueth. Frier Bugiardo imagined our Lady was come from Loretto, to honor Segni­or Philoxenus Altar: and therefore to welcome her the more, he so extolled our Ladies vertues, and the good and pitifull [Page]woorkes of our Cannonized Matrons, and Virgins: if the Crowne of Heauen had stoode vpon our Ladies head, and that the earth (chiefely Italy) was blessed for pittifull wo­mens sake: of which they could haue no greater testimonie, then that our Lady by miracle, had possessed them, with her earthly Mansion: which she dayly visiteth, with a thousand blessings. And therefore (quoth he) repaire her Churches, cherish her Priests, pray before her Aulters, & your finnes, whatsoeuer, shall be forgiuen: O she is pittifull, as a wo­man, and can rule her sonne as a Mother: and with such like olde tales,Ignorance Caue, the hie way to hell. & Tapers, he lighted the people, as they thought, to Heauen: but in very truth, into blinde Ignorance Caue, from whence the diuell carried them to Hell.

Ismarito smiled to heare the subtiltie of the Frier, and sor­rowed to sée the simplicitie of the people, in causes that ap­pertaine vnto the soule,Italians a most subtil kind of people. who in the affaires of the flesh, are as wilie as Serpents: whose countenance, when Philoxe­nus beheld, hée pleasantly demaunded, how Ismarito liked Frier Bugiardo his sermon.

Ismarito merely answered, it was pittie that Iudas had not heard the like, after he had betrayed his Master Christ: it might haue béen, vpon these large promises of forgiuenes, he would not so desperately haue hanged himselfe.

Then quoth Philoxenus these pleasing sermons bee not vnnecessary in this countrie, where sinne is so grose: for were not the people in hope,Sinne cannot indure to hear of Gods Iustice that our Lady of pittie would pardon them, anumber would follow Iudas in despayre: with feare, that Gods Iustice would condemne them.

It séemeth reason (quoth Ismarito) that the people be­léeue what is said in the Pulpit: for they vnderstand not what is read in the Church.A tiranny ten times more cruel then Phalaris Bull.

In this especiall case (quoth Philoxenus) all our crosses, are curses.

So that our first restraint from reading the Scriptures, could not but come from as accursed a spirit as his,Alcaron, a law that forbids the Turkes to dispute of Ma­homet. that first inuented the Turkes Alcaron, for by the paine of the one, Mahomets Idolatry is vnreprehended, and through our ignorance in the other, the Popes blasphemie, is in vs vn­espyed, [Page]and thereby, both God is dishonoured, and many a Soule destroyed: so that happie, and thrise happie,Turks to dis­pute, of Ma­homet. A diuine bles­sing. are you of England, that haue the sacred Bible, and the hard passa­ges of Scripture expounded in vulgar language: that your common sorte, howsoeuer your Prelates liue, vnderstand whether they erre or no in their doctrine.

And since the subiects of the Emperor, Alexander Seue­rus, honoured their soueraignes vertues, with these accla­mations.

Segnior Philoxenus so affected this spéech, as Ismarito could not but imagine his heart abiudged him, a strunger to grace, and vnworthie life, that was her vassaile and said not there­vnto, Amen. The end of Fryer Bugiardos clawing Sermon,Reconciliation may take a­way reuenge, but not grudge from enemies harts. broke off this priuate talke, and the Gentlewomen, proude of the commendation of their pytifull sexe, now wished, that Doctor Mossenigo had béen vnpardoned his yester-nightes trespasse towards women: y^t the holy. Frier might haue ci­ted him before our Lady of Loretto: who, the greater part of dinner time, left his victualles to inlarge his feminine praises.

In the end, tasting the goodnesse of the meate, hée found prating very vnsauerie: and therefore, to recouer his losses, his lippes laide on loade: which Faliero, and some other of the pleasant company perceiuing, assayed to reward the Frier for his good Sermon, with Tantalus dinner, and to that end, busied him with many questions,Questions an­swered by mo­nosillable. which he euer answered in a monosillable, so that his tongue hyndred not his féeding: as (quoth Faliero) a question or two, Master Frier I pray? say, quoth he: who strikes with the sharpest rod: God: of all other, who is most euill? Diuell: in distresse, who deserueth most ruth? Truth: who is charged with most crime? Tyme: what holds the world in most imprice? Vice: who is the greatest lier? Frier: desire: without flame, what maketh the greatest fire? Ire: what sin is most accurst? Lust: what bread is best to eate? Wheat: what drink is worst for the eyne? Wine: when they could deuise no talke, to put life in the Friers tongue, doctor Mossengio demaunded, why hée was so briefe in his answeres? O (quoth he) Pauca sapienti: Then (quoth the Doctor) it is good taking away, this plenty of meate, for cloying Frier Bugiardoes wit. The whole com­pany, hearing the Frier beaten with his owne sentence, tur­ned into a contrary sence, burst out into such an immoderate laughter, as choller that rose to the very throat of the Frier would not suffer him to swallowe one bit more of meate: in so much, as the boord was taken away, and the Frier driuen to say Benedicite, with an empty stomack: an intertaine­ment, as fit for a flatterer, as a reward for a faithful seruant.

The office of courteous reuerence,A good re­ward for Flat­terie. fully discharged: the company retired towards the fire, to pause a little after their dinner, obseruing therein an olde health rule.

Where the pittifull Gentlewomen, moned the disgrace of their praise master, the Friar, but murmured more that he was crossed (without a blessing) by their enemy, the Doctor. And to put them out of this matter, Bargetto said merisy, that the friar had taught him such a cunning way to woo, as [Page]to melt a woman into pitty, he would wish, but the oportu­nitie of thrée howres: two to loue, and one to praise the thing they like. Yea (quoth Franceschina Santa, his Mistres) since women are so mercifull, it is necessarie to bridle the subtilty of men: and to giue example, I enioyne you, these thrée dayes to speake no more of loue: and questionlesse, this paine set vpon Bargettos head, was no greater then his ouersight deserued: for in doing of these thrée things is great danger, and smal discretion: to play with fire, to striue with water,A profitable Note. and to giue a woman knowledge of our power: therefore, he that will discouer his owne secret aduantage, is worthie to haue his haire cut with Sampson.

Quéene Aurelia, by this time was ready to walke into the drawing chamber, to continue her established exercise: and for the execution thereof, shée called certaine of her chosen attendants, (whose appearance being made,) to obserue her former course, for ancient customes profitable, are better then new lawes incertaine, she commanded the Eunuke, to set their witts in an order, by the vertue of some swéete har­mony, who taking his Lute, after a dutifull obeysance, play­ed, and sung this following Sonnet in Italion.

The double effectes of this Sonet, made them freshly to remember the doubtes they left yesterday vnresolued. And to auoide digression, which raiseth many difficulties, and re­solueth few: Quéene Aurelia caused a repetition of Platoes opinion of Mariage, which was: She was a Paradice on earth, where her Statutes were kept: and a Hell in the House, where her lawes were broken.

Whereupon (quoth Dondolo with the libertie of Quéene Aurelias fauour) I demaunde the causes why that the Male, and Female, of bruite and wilde creatures loue, cherish and take comfort, in one anothers companie, onely by the impres­sion of nature: and man and woman, that are beautified both with the vertues of nature and reason, many times matches together, make a hell of this holy institution.

By Quéene Aurelias commaundement,Reason giueth man souerain­ty ouer al crea­tures. to answere.

Sir (quoth Faliero) the aduantage of reason, with which you haue priueledged man and woman, is the onely cause thereof: no man will denie, but that there is a difference of conditions,There is diuer­sitie of condi­tion in euery kinde. in creatures of euery kinde: some horse, an vn­skilfull horseman, can hardly disorder; and some in despite of his rider will haue a iadish tricke. Some Bauke though she be euil serued, wil not straggle forth: & some, do the Faulke­ner what he can, wil continuallie flie at checkes: some hound by no meanes will be rated from riot, and some will neuer forsake his vndertaken game: euen so some man will filch if his hands be fast bounde, and some hauing the aduantage of a bootie, will rather starue, then steale: some woman, with an houres libertie will offend, and ten yeares louing sute cannot ouercome some other.Reason fin­deth out the imperfection of nature. Cause of mis­liking in mari­age. But the vice and vertue in euery creature, by the opinions of many sage Philosophers, procéedeth from the purenesse, or the imperfection of nature: which is not to be found, but by reason: and the vse of rea­son onelie belongeth to man: now, if by ouer sight in choice, [Page]maried are deuided in desire, differ in life, and delight in nei­thers loue: Reason that findeth out this contrarietie,Causes of comfort in mariage. sow­eth contention betwéene the vnfortunate couple in Matri­monie thus matched. Againe, when betwéene the married there is equalitie, of byrth, yeres, and manners, no difference in loue, nor suspition of others behauiour: reason that deligh­teth in vnitie, maketh the ioyes of Mariage innumerable.

Therefore (think I) the opinion of Plato may be imbra­ced as a sound iudgement.

The whole assembly, allowed Falieroes reason: and Don­dolo himselfe was reasonably well satisfied. But quoth he, since Mariage bringeth with her vnspeakable ioy, or vncu­rable sorrow: how may a man assure himselfe of the one, or auoide the other? when a womans vnsearcheable heart is the only harbor both of her good & euil conditions: and (once) in appearance, the honourable, and the dishonest, the ver­tuous, & the vicious: and in briefe, euery sorte of women are naturally beautified with modestie. If the good repulse dis­honest request with chast disdaine, the badde with counterfet sobrietie, will blush at incontinent sutes: if the good vseth si­lence as a vertue, the bad with well ordered spéech, wil be as highly estéemed: if the good with the beautie and benefites of nature, delight: the bad with the florish of Art, will no lesse be fantasied. So that at the first face, the cunningest Clarke may be deceiued, in iudging who best deserueth.

The greatest Clarke (quoth Faliero) proues not alwaies the wisest man, & none more apt to be beguiled then he. He valueth all that glistereth, Golde: he estéemeth faire words,Experience is the best ludge as friendly déeds: and thinketh that louely countenances do spring from a louing condition: when experience know­ing the contrarie, will trie them all by the best.

The corruptest Canker bloometh like the swéetest Eglan­tine: the bitter Bullice, resembleth the pleasant Damson, and the sower Crah, the sauorie Pippin: Euen so good and bad, faire and fowle, chaste and vnconstant women are made of one moulde, framed of one forme,The forme deceiueth, but the qualitie sheweth the creature. & naturally gra­ced with a shamefast blushing: but as in smell the Canker, in tast the Bullice, and the Crab in relish, bewray their imper­fections, [Page]euen so with cunning vsage, the subtillest woman will shew her vnnaturall conditions: counterfeits will to kinde: copper holds print, but not touch with gold, fire hid in ashes, will breake forth in heate: water courses stopt, find out new passages: euen so the impatient woman, throughly moued, discloseth her passions: y^e proud with sufferance excée­deth in pompe, and the wanton sore charged, wil fall to folly.

Well (quoth Dondolo,) notwithstanding your directions be good, yet the path to heauen is so difficult to finde, as the ignorant passenger without direction, is like to follow the beaten way to hell, and the surest guide is Experience.

So that the direction of the Parents,The foresight of Parents. is to be imbraced of the Children in this behalfe.

Parents with regarde, foresée the euils that negligent Children féele ere they withstand: Parents prouide liuing to maintaine their Childrens loue.

Children often times by matching with beggers, diminish their parents inheritance.

Parents labour for necessaries to support an house-hould.

Children onely séeke for silken ragges, to vpholde their pride.

Parents haue care to match their Children with those of vertuous condition: and Children lightly regard no more then their louers amiable countenance.

I confesse with you (quoth Faliero) the ouersights of yong men in their choyce,A reprehensi­on of forced mariage. but I crie out vpon forcement in Mar­riage, as the extreamest bondage that is: for that the ran­some of libertie is the death of the one or the other of the ma­ried. The father thinks he hath a happie purchase, if hée get a rich yong Warde to match with his daughter: but God he knowes, and the vnfortunate couple often féele, that hée by­eth sorrow to his Childe, slander to himselfe, and perchance the ruine of an ancient Gentlemans house, by the riot of the sonne in Lawe, not louing his wife.

But admit there bée no disagréement betwéene the par­ties, which is rather fortune then foresight in parents, who regarde that the lands and goods bée great, but smally waie [Page]whether the beauty and behauiours please or no: yet loue in­forst taketh knowledg neither of friends, fauor, forme,Loue will not be constrained. goods nor good bringing vp.

Delicate meate hardly forceth an appetite vnto the sick. Pleasure yéelds no sollace to the sorrowfull, no more can forcement enforce the frée to fancie. The Lyon with gen­tlenes may bée tamed, but with curstnes neuer conquered: much more lordly is Loue, for as Petrarke defineth,

I could report many examples of large authoritie,The euill of te­diousnes. to proue this inconuenience, but to a néedelesse ende: for te­diousnes duls the remembrance of the hearer, and tyres the tongue of the reporter. In dayly action, you may view the libertie of Loue, his contempt to bée constrained, and the great compassion he vseth when he is with curtesie acqui­red, which account in forced Mariage is sildome considered. There is procurement of friends before plightment of faith: safety for liuings before assurance of loue, and clapping of hands before knitting of hearts: an occasion that the sorro­ful parties mourne when they are Married, & reioyse when by death they are seuered.

Dondolo replyed, that when there is no remedy, Reason will driue them to loue.

But Faliero maintayned, that Reason and Loue, are at deadly food: Reason bids thée loue, but where thou art liked,Reason and Loue, as enemies. and Loue bids thée fancie where thou art hated: Reason di­rects for thy benefit, and Loue allures to thy detryment: and to conclude, the office of Reason is to appease olde griefes, and the nature of Loue is to raise new debates.

Tush, tush (quoth Bargetto,) among the maried, quarrels in the day, are qualified with kisses in the night: whereupon groweth this Adage.

A witnesse that vnkindnesse inlargeth Loue, as the wrack of Winter doth the beautie of Sommer: then, although the Parents matche at first, bée without the fancie of the Chil­dren, a reconciliation (in fine) will double their comfort.

Sir (quoth Soranso, fauoring Falieros opinion) you wrest: the Adage is to a contrarie meaning:Another repre­hension of forcement in mariage. for it is to bée vsed but where there hath béen some time perfect loue, and where a grounded loue is, although the Married menace with their tounges, they malice not with their hearts: on the contrarie part: looke what rule the Louer vseth in loue, the enemie obserueth in reuenge.

Therefore if the Maried abhorre before Marriage, they may well dissemble with their tongues, but will neuer be de­lighted in their harts: & where there is such a deuision in the desires of the Married, fayre fained semblance, will soone turne to flat fowle falling out, their thrift goeth forward as the carriage drawne by two Oxen, taile to taile: the husband will haue no delight to get, nor the wise desire to saue: ser­uants with negligence will waste, and hyrelings with proli­ning, wil win: and (which is worst) the continuance of mal­lice wil custome them with mortal hatred: hatred betwéene the Married, bréedeth contention betwixt the parents, con­tention betwixt the parents, raiseth quarrels among the kin­dred, & quarrels among the kindred, occupieth all the neigh­hours with slander: so y^e for the most part, these forced mari­ages, engendereth sorrowes for the maried, disquietnesse to both their friends & kindred: but which stil renueth griefe, the scandal of enemies, endeth in neither of their wretchednesse.

This being said, little auayled the further proofes of the contrarie part, so ful was the crie: Fie of forcement in mari­age, so that to paint out the inconueniences therof in his pro­per colours, Quéene Aurelia commanded Faliero, to confirme his sufficient reasons, with the discourse of some rare Histo­rie. Whose commandement he willingly satisfied, and repor­ted as followeth.

The History in the reproch of forced Mariage, reported by Faltero.

IN the famous Cittie of Cirene in Affrick, dwelled some­tims a rich Marchant named Tryfo. This Tryfo had a wel­thy neighbour called Clearches, who of long time entertai­ned one another with a neighbourly affection: Tryfo to inhe­rite all his liuings, had but one onely Sonne, named Siche­us: and Clearches one onely Daughter called Elisa. The pa­rents to establish (as they imagined) an euerlasting amitie between their houses, concluded a mariage for their vnfor­tunate Children, making no doubt but that they would as well inherite their affections as their liuings, of which there was hope enough, if the order had béene as good to e­stablish their Lone, as the haste great to solemnize the Ma­riage: for that in their persons appéered no signe of disagrée­ment, nor in their abilities cause of exception: but loue (that beholdeth no more quicknesse in a Diamond then in a dym Saphyre) though he take impression by sight,Loue rooteth by contem­plation. rooteth in contemplation: which deuine exercise of the soule, smally delighteth gréene youth, who intertain their thoughts with a thousand vaine fancies: but to my purpose. The Mariage day drew néere, and as at the very push of Battell, the wise Captain animateth his Souldiers with some plausible ora­tion, euen so the night before the Mariage, Tryfo schooled his sonne Sicheus with this following aduertisement.

My good sonne quoth he, so great are the follies of men,Aduise to a booteles pur­pose. and so cunning the deceits of women, as they most (especially the yonger sort) will credite their lookes, without looking into their liues: beléeue their words, and lightly regarde their workes: delight to recount their entertainments, and dis­daine to reckon their shrewde paiments. For as the sick pa­tient comforted with the Phisitions woords, leaues to exa­mine y^e qualities of his receites: Euen so, the wretched louer cured with the yéelding of his beautifull Mistres,Loue yeelds neither to wit, strength, nor learning. with neg­ligence both ouerlooks his own benefite, and her behauiour. Salomon was deceiued, Sampson subdued, Aristotle derided, [Page]and Hercules murthered by the illusions of errant honest women.

King Demetrius notwithstanding he was both wise and valiant,An extreame affection. was so bewitched with the wyles of the notorions strumpet Lamia, as in open Schooles he raised disputations, whether the loue he bare Lamia, or the Iewels he bestowed vpon her were the greater: or whether her merite excéeded them both or no. Yea when she dyed he caused her to be en­tombed vnder his bed Chamber window, to the ende that with dayly teares he might worship her engraued bones, who liuing was of him intirely beloued.

If the wisest and the worthiest be thus ouertaken in their affections, what easie baites may beguile thée, who in yéeres art yong, of substance delicate and lustie, and therefore apt to loue: ready in conceit, and of consideration vnperfect, hotte in desire, and in discretion colde: My sonne, by experi­ence I know, and to prenent thy ouerlikely mischaunce in choyce, I haue chosen thée a wife, faire to please thée, rich to continue loue, her Parents my assured fréends, and she thy affected louer: loue her well, beare with her insmall faults, as a woman and the weaker, and bridle thy owne euill af­fections as a man, her head and gouernour: and in thus doo­ing, God will multiply his blessings vpon you, and make your aged Parents to die in peace, to sée you liue in prosperi­tie. Yong Sicheus regarded his Fathers tale, as Schollers doe their Tutors, who giuing them leaue to play, admoni­sheth them with all to kéep good rule, which they promise, and perferme the contrary. With the like affection Sicheus embraced mariage. He was not so soone weary of dallying with his wife, as he was ready to entertaine a Harlot: so that in short space he became a common Louer, and a care­lesse Husband: and withall grew as arrogant in defending his liberty,The title of Mariage ma­keth youth ar­rogant. as dissalute in his actions and behauiour: If his fréends did gently aduise him, he was of age to counsell him­selfe: if his Parents did sharpely reprehend him, he would impudently aunswere, he was past correction: if his Wife found her selfe agréeued with his hard vsage, she might well complaine, but he would take no time to amend; so that his [Page]dayly actions of euill tooke away all after hope of wel doing: insomuch as he became odious to his fréends that beheld his lewde inclination: and a plague vnto his Wife, who was dayly oppressed with his monstrous vices. So that the o­uercharge of sorrow made her many times passage for these and such like passions.

O vnhappy and ouer hastie Mariage, which in the pride of my youth with discontentments makest me resemble a faire Figge trée,Abuse of good things worke euill effectes. blasted with the after colde of an vntime­ly Spring: but why blame I Mariage which is honourable? alas, because the abuse of good things, worke euill effectes: Roses vnaduisedly gathered, prick our hands, Bées vngent­ly vsed sting our faces, yet the one pleasant and the other profitable: so that if there come any euill of that which is good, our folly or fortune is cause thereof: Ay me,That which is blessing to one may be a curse to an other. when I was married I was too yong to be a wife, and therfore haue no reason to exclaime on folly. But fortune fowle fall shée, which coursest me w^t curses, in possessing me w^t those things which others holde for blessings: Wealth, that bestoweth pleasures on many, is the originall of my woe. Mariage, which giueth liberty to many, inlargeth my Fetters, and demaundeth death for my raunsome: Beauty that aduaun­seth many, is to me a disgrace: for that, inioying her forme,Carelesnes of the husband breedeth in the wife. I am of Sicheus not fantasied, of whom euery foule and com­mon Trull is beloued: But therein Fortune thou doost me no wrong, for my hate towards him ouerpoyseth his light regarde of me. O but my hart is continually afflicted with his euil, and his finger neuer akes with my malice. Yea:Choller is soone quieted, but forbearāce increaseth ma­lice. but Forbearance edgeth the swoord of Reuenge, when Choller, though it often strikes, it wounds not much. Raine falleth euery where, yet beateth but the leaues, the thunder Boult lighteth in one place, but yet teareth vp the roots: so though I dissemble till oportunitie, Sicheus shall féele my hate to death: and though I endure a space, I will redéem my dying life: and perseuering in this resolution, Elisaes thoughts,The Diuell is the executio­ner of ven­geance. that were lately drowned in sorrow, now flamed with desire of Reuenge: and the Deuill, who is the Executioner of Ven­geance, presented her forth with this vngratious meane.

A yong Gentleman named Chion, among a troupe of o­ther Ladies and Gentlewomen, beheld faire Elisa with such a burning affection, as he foorthwith dispossessed his owne hart, to make his bosome the seate of her imagined Image: so that his soule that continually eyed her beauty and his hart, at the direction of his Mistresse, gaue such a heat to his desire, that had he béene sure to haue receiued Ixions tor­ments, for his ambitious attempting of Iunoes loue, he could neither haue left to loue,An extreame passion of loue. nor haue forborne to séek for grace: so that follow what would, he foorth with presented his af­fections, in this ensuing Letter.

This Letter sealed and subscribed, was deliuered to so cunning a Messenger as néeded no instructions in Chions behalfe. The letter presented, and aduisedly read by Elisa, surprised her with an vnmeasurable ioy: not so much for that she had purchased her selfe a faithful Louer, as procured her Husband a mortall enemy:A naturall feare in a wo­man, surpriseth many of their euil affections. of which Chions Letter gaue her not so great assurance, as the disposition of his counte­naunces in a former regarde: and thereupon pursuing Si­cheus with more hate, then minding Chion with affection, she mused vpon a number of mischiefes, inuented by desire to be reuenged, and suppressed by feare to be defamed.

In fine, remembring that she had read: Loue quickneth a mans wit, although it burieth Reason: To trie if he could de­fine what seruice she desired: she returned Chion a Briefe, wherein he had a light to mischiefe, and might be read, with­out blemish of her honour: the effect whereof was this.

CHION receiued this Scrowle, but yet before he presu­med to read the Contents, he kissed and rekissed the same: holding an opinion, that comming from his mistresses hands it deserued such honour (although it contained Sentence of his death:) not vnlike the foolish Mahometians, An example for Christian Subiects. who vpon their Emperours Commaundements, are ready Exerutio­ners of their owne liues.

But to my purpose:Craft hath many times his wil, with an opnion of honestie. when Chion had throughly perused this strange aunswere: were it Sicheus his heauy Destinie, or a iust scourge for his foretrespasses: (accursed that he was) he became too iust an Executioner of Elisaes wicked will: but yet with this interpretation, that the loue she bare her husband, directed her in this answere.

Insomuch, as ouercome with a furious hate towards Sicheus, as the barre of his welfare, like a Lyon that bites the Iron grate, which holdes him from his pray: sodenly with this salutation, he sheathed his Sword in Sicheus ntrailes.

The fact was so fowle and withal so publique,Wilfull faults deserue no pardon. as y^e Offi­cers of Iustice immediatly seased vpon Chion; and for that his bloodie swoord was a witnes of the trespas, there was no Plea to saue him: for wilfull faults may be pittied, but de­serueth no pardon: and to say trueth, neither did he destre to liue, because Elisa the vertue of his life, by the charge of law, was bound to sue him to death: who followed the processe, with an apparance of sorrow, such as if her Couscience had béen without scruple of guiltinesse, or her hart a thousand degrées from ioy: when God knowes she was puffed with the one, and the other: so that the wonder at her dissimula­tion, equalled the reproch of her notorious hatred.

To be short,A fauour euill bestowed. this was the Iudges sentence: Chyon should be behaded, as amends for Sicheus death, and the Widdow should be endowed with his goods, for the dam­mage done vnto her: but God which knoweth our secret faults (when Iudges though they rule as Gods, know, but what they heare and sée as men) not willing to hide such an hainous offence.This Iudge is not partiall, for fauour, gaine or feare. First, amased all the hearers with an vn­known voice, Elisaes hart is as guiltie as Chions hand: and there with all thundred this following vengeance vpon the cleared malefactor. The Infant in Elisaes wombe, as it were ingendred of the Parents malice, at the very instant not o­beying the course of Nature, so tirannised her Intrailes, as with very agony she dyed, and withall remaineth an opini­on, that the Husband, Wife and Sonne, by the appoint­ment of the Gods, were Metamorphosed into Vipers, which venimous Beastes are thrall to these curses. The female after she hath engendred, The curses gi­uen vnto a Vi­per. murdreth the Male, because she will not be ruled as an inferiour: and the yong eate them­selues forth of their Dams intrailes, because they will not be bound to the obedience of Nature.

Well (quoth Soranso) though your Metamorphosis be vnlikely, yet it is not vnnecessarily applyed. For, for the [Page]most part, those which are forced to Mariage, agrée little better then Vipers. But it séemeth to me (Segnior Faliero) you haue too fauourably reported this History in Elysaes behalfe, considering the mortall venime she tempered in her hart.

O (quoth Faliero) long fowle wayes,Breuitie is best in passionate matters, and affectation in pleasant. both tyreth the Horse and wearieth his Rider, where both the one and the other, ouercommeth the length of faire passages, with pleasure: Euen so, in a ruthfull History, ouer plenty of words both gréeueth the reporter, and giueth meane for a thousand sighes to break from the hearer, where affected circumstances giue a grace to a pleasant tale.Sorrowes cau­seth silence. Sorow to heare their kinde thus stained with crueltie, locked vp the tunges of the poore Gentlewomen a pretie while. In the end (quoth Aluisa Vechio, We are bound to shew aswell the cause as to punish the euill. a dame more olde and bolde then the rest,) me séemeth that Faliero hath but little fauored Ely­sa, for he hath showen her euill, and the scourge of her euill, and in charitie he was bound to shew the cause of her euill: I would (quoth Doctor Mossenigo) that Frier Bugiardo had heard this disputation,Good mora­litie, is better then euill doc­trine. it might haue béen the breking down of the Altar, whereupon he but lately committed blasphemy, it would haue more reformed him, thē his pleasing Sermon could haue confirmed vs. These aduantages the Doctor tooke to crosse the Gentlewomen, his late open enemies,There is no trusting of a reconciled ene­mie. and but now his fained fréends: not vnlike a sneaking dog, that neuer barkes but bites withall. And to spite them the more, quoth he, Monsier Bargetto, since you are bound from spea­king of loue, you haue both cause and oportunitie to talk of womens hate.

Pardon me (quoth Bargetto) for this penance was but a due paine for my presumption,The example of a naughty nature. which I hope to ouercome with patient suffering: and sure in this milde answere: Bar­getto shewed a morall vertue,A necessary note. and Doctor Mossenigo by his malicious question, a canckred nature: for simply to offend procéedeth of frailtie, but to perseuer in euill is a note of wilfull frowardnesse.

Well, notwithstanding Bargettos temperance, a Cauil­ler caught hold vpon this question, as a Mastiue vpon an old [Page]dry Marybone,A Cauiller hath colours for euery que­stion. and to proue a womans hatred more grea­ter then her loue, he auouched many cruell authorities. But Faliero who had done them some initirie in reporting the late history, made them part of amends, and put their aduersarie to silence in prouing the contrary: his reason was, that their hate in the extremest degrée, stretched but to the death of an other, and their loue many times hath done wilfull murder vpon them selues.

Then it followeth,Womens loue is more great then their hate. by how much we prise our selues a­boue an other, by so much their loue is greater then their hatred.

Yea (quoth the Doctor) but their loue and hatred are both violents,Women do a­mis, but men are the cause. and euery violent is an euill.

Yea Master Doctor (quoth Maria Belochy) their euils are the greater for men, for by their flattering inchauntments, women loue immoderately, and stung with mens vnsuffe­rable iniuries, they hate mortally.

The Doctor replyed,Beauty ouer­commeth the wisest. there was more power in her looks, then authority in her words: but least he should be subdued by the one, he would not contend with the other.

Why (quoth Quéene Aurelia) beauty works no more im­pression in a Doctors eye, then doth poyson in Mineruas shéelde, for he by Philosophy can subdue affection.

Madame (quoth he) you may well compare beauty and poyson together,EVRIPIDES comparison between beau­ty and loue. for their operations are alike: saue that beauty is the more extreame, in that she infects with her looks, and poyson not, vnlesse we taste it: or when it is most strong, not vnlesse we touch it: yea, Euripides compareth her inchauntment with the inticements of a kingdome, whereas he saith.

To deale in Princes affayres, the company was too gréene: but in beauties behalfe, there was neither Gentle­man, nor Gentlewoman, that was not desirous to bee re­uenged of the Doctors detraction, for he that hath a slaun­derous tongue iniurieth many,Slander is ge­nerally hated. and is himselfe hated of all men: but for that it was now too late to decide any other great question, Quéene Aurelia adiourned the ending of any controuersie, vntill the next day.

The Deuice of the second Nights Mask.

BY a secret foreknowledge of a Maske, with which So­ranso, Bargetto, Ismarito, and others, purposed to honor Segnior Philoxenus and his companie, supper was ha­stened and soone ended: and after the one had saluted the o­ther with an accustomed reuerence, while the rest of the Gentlemen entertained Time, with dauncing, or deuising with their mistresses, the Maskers withdre w^t themselues, & about nine of the clock in this disguise presented themselues agayne.

A Consort of swéete Musicke, sounded the knowledge of their comming: the Musitians, in Gyppons and Veneti­ans, A Gentleman is not to show his passions by his attire. of Russet and Black Taffata, bended with Murrey, and thereon imbrodered this Posie. Spero, Timeo, Taceo: ex­pressing thereby the sundry passions of Loue: and before them, two Torchbearers, apparelled in Yellow Taffata Sarcenet: the generall apparell of the Maskers, was shorte Millaine Clokes, Dublet and Hose of Grêene Satten, bor­dered with Siluer, Greene silke stockes, White Scarpines, Rapyers and Daggers Siluered, Men in mary case, are to be priuiledged for another; merit. Blacke Veluet Cappes and White Feathers. They agréed to be thus attyred, to shewe themselues frée in the eye of the world, and couertly bound vnto their mistresses.

Ismarito for courtesie sake, because he was a straunger, and withal, in that his Mistres was y^e most honourable, had the leading of this Maske, who lighted with a torch, by his Page, apparelled in Blew, Carnation, and White Taffata, the colours of his Mistres,Ventoy, a Fan. entered with a Ventoy in his hand, made like an Ashe tree: wrethed about with Iuy: expressing this poesie, Te stante virebo: with which, vpon fit opportu­nitie, he presented Quéene Aurelia, his Mistresse: within which were (couertly hid) these verses in English Italion.

BArgetto lighted by a Page, apparelled in his Mistresse colours, Greene, Carnation, and White, followed Ismarito, hauing the mouth of his Maske closed with a small Golden Lock, as a witnesse of the true execution of his Mistres com­mandement: and vpon his fist he carried a Parrate to prattle to his Mistres, vpō pausing betwéen euery solemne Almain, [Page]& couertly vnder the Parrates wing was hidden this passion.

SORANSO, lighted by a Page, in Orange Tawny, Wat­ched and Greene, was the next that presented himselfe: who vpon his left side had a Hart of Crimson Granado Silke, so artificially made and fastened to his dublet, as if his body had opened, and his heart appeared, which fell downe at his Mistresse féete, vpon such a Fortune as shee was bound to take it vp, which opened, she might beholde the picture of berselfe, reading this submission.

DONDOLO lighted by his Page, apparelled in Taw­ny, Blew, and Black Taffata, was the fourth: who vp­on his Breast bare a Myrrour, set the outside inward, and yet fastened so siope as it might receiue light, with an ima­gination, that he shewed his Heart, the Beauty of his Mi­stresse, and in the thought, he wrote vpon the outside: Bastache Spero: within which glasse, this Sonet was cunningly conueyed: which vpon a fit oportunitie he presented vnto his Mistresse, Lucia Bella.

FALIERO lighted by a Page, attired in Peach colour, yellow, and popeniay greene Taffata, was the fifte and last that entered: who (as if she were climing vp his Arme) ca­ried a white Turtle, so artificially made, as it deceiued no lesse, then Parrhasius paynted Table Cloth: In whese Beake, were finely rowled these Verses.

In this order, and with these deuises, the Maskers entred, and after they had saluted Quéene Aurelia, and the honou­rable of the company, they placed themselues, some of the one side of the great Chamber, and some of the other, obser­uing therein a more discréete order then the ordinary Mask­ers: who at their first enterance, either daunce with them­selues, [Page]or rudely sease vpon the Gentlewomen: but these Maskers, entertayned a small Time, with their Musicke, while they had leasure to looke about, and espie who were the worthiest among the Ladies.

In the ende, Ismarito kissing his hande, with a Counte­nance abased, humbly desired Quéene Aurelia to doe him the grace, to daunce with him. Next, Bargetto made choyce of Franceschina Santa: after him, Soranso chose Maria Belochi: Dondolo raysed Lucia Bella: and last of all, Faliero tooke his Mistresse Catherina Trista: and thus they obserued in their choyce, the same course they kept in their enterance.

After this company had performed all the ciuill Seruices of Maskers, leauing behinde them their Mistresses honou­red, and the whole company much contented: they departed in the good order they entered, sauing that their Mistresses were possessed with their seuerall Deuices.

Which done, the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen began to shrinke out of the great Chamber, as the starres séeme to shoote the Skie, towardes the breake of day.

THE Authoritie, is daylie Experience, that prooueth howe that the bitterest worldly Sorrow, [...]he vncertain­ [...] of worldly [...]ings. soone endes, either by benefite of Fortune, or violence of death: neither is the firmest worldly pleasure of more continuaunce then an Imagination, which is straight crost with a contrary Suggestion.

What difference was there betwéeue the Fortunes of Caesar and Pompey, Both Pompey and Caesar di­ [...]d violently. when their endes were both violent? [Page]saue that I holde Caesars to be the harder: for that hee was murthered in the Armes of Prosperitie, and Pompey, at the féete of Disgrace: but being both dead, vnto their Monu­ments, Writers adde this Opinion.

A proofe, that some disgrace is the ground of Good Re­porte: and some good Fortune, the Trumpe of Infamie: ther­fore, let no man yéeld to Aduersitie, nor affie too much in Pompe and paynted Prosperitie: for the one, is but vexati­on, the other vanitie, and both in short time vanish.

A sodaine alteration (as me thought) made me to contem­plate of these causes: for that (comming out of my lodging, somewhat timely) I entred the great Chamber, with as strange a regarde, as he that commeth out of a House full of Torch and Taperlights, into a darke and obscure corner: knowing that at midnight (about which time, I forsooke my company) I left the place, attyred like a second Paradise: the earthly Goddesses in brightnesse, resembled Heauenly Creatures, whose Beauties dasied mens eyes more then the Beames of the Sunne.

The swéete musicke recorded the Harmonie of Angels, the strange and curious deuices in Maskers, séemed as fi­gures of diuine Misteries.

And to be shorte, the place was a verie Sympathie of an imagined Paradise. And in the space of one slumbering stéepe, to be left like a desart wildernesse, without any crea­ture, saue sundry Sauage Beastes, portrayed in the Tapi­strie hangings, imprest such a heauy passion in my minde, as for the time, I fared as one whose sences had forgot howe to doe their bounden offices: In the ende, to recomfort my throbbing heart, I tooke my Citterne, and to a solemne Note, sung this following Sonet, which I a little before composed vpon a quiet thought, I possessed after my reading of Boetius of the consolation of Philosophie, translated into Italion by Cosimo Bartoli.

During the time that my thoughtes swounded with the charme of my passionate Musick: The Sunne decked in his most gorgious Rayes, gaue a bon Giorno to the whole troupe: and so many as were within the sound of my instru­ment, were drawen with no lesse vertue, then the Stéele vnto the Adamant. In so much, of the sodaine, to beholde thē statelines of the presence, I was driuen foorth of my muse, with a starkeling admyration, not vnlike vnto him, that [Page]sléeping ouer a dying brand, is hastelie wakened with the lightening of a thousand sparckles,

The offices of Curtesie discharged on euery part, Segnior Soranso saied: the Poets fayned not without reason, that Amphions Harp gaue sence vnto stone Walles. For so deuine (quoth he) are the operations, and vertues of Musick:A commenda­tion of Musick as he that shall be bound, to declare her particular Graces, shall be no lesse troubled then the painter Zeuxes was in the coun­terfetting of Cupid: Who after much trauell, was driuen to draw him blinde, for otherwise, he had vnder taken Sisiphus taske, because the twinckling reflections of Cupids eyes,A faining how Cupid came to be called blind. threw a thousand Beauties vpon his face, and shadowed the worke of the Painter.

Thus through ignorance, Cupid hath euer since béen re­puted blinde, and for his owne perfection, is honored with the title of the God of Loue. The name of Loue gaue a large occasion of discourse: but for that another time was appoin­ted for those disputations, and the morning was wholly de­dicated vnto the seruice of God: the question drowned in Soransos suggestion, and the whole company silent, in such affaires, attended Quéene Aurelias comming: who, in change of gorgious and rich apparrell, kept her accustomed howre, to goe vnto the Chappell. By that time seruice was ended, and euery mans deuotion done, dinner was ready to bée set vpon the Tables, with such choice of delicate Viands, as vnto the bountie of the feast, there might nothing be added.

After that Quéene Aurelia and the rest, had taken their ordinary places, euery one helped the disgestion of their meate, either in inuenting some ciuill merriment, or in hea­ring it reported by another.

Bargetto all this while, was neither heard to speake, nor séene to smile.

Which, perceiued by Franceschina Sancta his Mistres, she (moued with the spirit of compassion) studied, how with iu­stice shée might reuoke her sentence, and vnstring her ser­uants tongue: and to that end, she demanded, how thrée good turnes might be vnrewarded, thrée offences pardoned,A question to trie a quicke wit. thrée iniuries left vnreuenged, and in euery of these, Iustice pre­serued? [Page]This question passed through the table: and retur­ned without his true resolution.

In the end (quoth Segnior Philoxenus) Monsier Bergetto, what is your opinion?

Sir (quoth Bergetto) my mistresse hath locked the tongue, that should pronounce it.

Why (quoth Franceschina) these be no questions of loue, and therefore you haue libertie to speake.

No Lady (quoth Bergetto) but his vertue may appeare in the answere.

Well (quoth his Mistresse) if you can cleare your trespas, by one of these questions, I must doo no iniurie to Iustice, and therefore say your pleasure.

Vpon this warrant (quoth Bergetto) to your first thrée, I answere.Three good turnes may be receiued vnre­warded. A Captaine may betray his charge, which is a be­nefit to the enemie: but the betrayer is not to be receiued as a friend: for hée that will fell his countryman, may not bée held assured to a stranger. Secondly, a Théefe that peach­eth his fellowes, dooth good to the common wealth: and yet deserueth no reward: for he that may priuiledge his owne theft, in bewraying other mens, will euer more steale vpon presumption. Thirdly, to win a mans money is a good turne, and yet the loser is not to bée recompenced: for his intent was to win the winners.

To your second thrée questions,Three offen­cesmay with Iustice be par­doned. a man may offend through ignorance, which is excused without a pardon: for ignorance is without intent of euil: therefore to be suffered, though not to be cherished: a man may offend, through ne­cessitie, which commendeth Iustice, with the vertue to for­giue: for necessitie is bound vnto no law, and therefore de­serueth not to be punished with the rigour of law: To the third, a man may offend through rashnes, and make amends with repeutance: which Iustice may pardon, without pre­iudice to equity: and herein (faire Mistres) I haue showen my trespas, and the reparation of my trespasse.

To your third thrée questions,Three iniuries may pas vnte­uenged. a man may hurt his friend against his will, which is an iniurie: yet ought not to be re­uenged: for reneng can but afflict the trespasser, and the mis­fortune [Page]grieueth him: before the husband, a man may kisse the wife, by mistaking: which is an iniury, not to be reuen­ged: for the wife may wipe away the wrong with her hand, and the husband by reuenge, may make worke for the Chi­rurgion: and to the last, a man must be content to take good words of a beggerly debtor: which is an iniury not to be re­uenged: for a man can haue of a Cat but her skin, and of a begger, but his scrip: vnles he will sell the Apothecary the greace of the one, and the dice maker, the bones of the other.

The whole company gaue a verdict, that Bergetto had ex­pounded his Mistres doubts without blemish to Iustice: and therefore were ernest suters for his remission. Whome shée pardoned, with this prouiso, that hée should behaue himselfe honourably towards women hereafter. For his libertie, Bar­getto reuerently kissed his Mistresses hand, and thus all vn­kindnesse pacified.

Quéene Aurelia mouing a little, raisde the company from the Table, who a pretty time after dinner had respyt, to pre­pare their wits, for the accustomed exercise.

The Clocke had no sooner sounded the disputation houre, but Quéene Aurelia, and her Ladies were ready in the drawing Chamber, and vpon warning, the chosen Gen­tlemen gaue their attendance: who hauing taken their pla­ces, the Eunuck (knowing his charge) vnto the Lute sung this Sonet,

This Sonet in Beauties behalfe, put the whole compa­nie in remembrance of Doctor Mossenigoes last nights lauish spéech of Beautie, and the scandalous comparing of her to poyson, or, which is worse, a more subtill infection: and there­fore, to bée resolued of his wrong, or her gyltines, Quéene Aurelia appointed Monsier Bargétto to bée her Champion, and to assist him, (for it was agréed that frée choice of Mari­age, should (this day) be disputed: whose affection for the most procéedeth from the vertue of Beautie,) she lycensed e­uery one that fauoured her cause: which done, she willed the Doctor and his fauorers to spit their venym.

Maddame (quoth the Doctor,)Olde men are bound by their grauitie, to say no more then they will stand to. it neither beséemeth the stayednes of my yeares, nor agréeth with the grauitie of my profession, in such an assembly, to speake the thing I dare not auouch, & therefore since it cōmeth to this issue, that I must hazard vpon a charge, or shrinke away with shame: though my enemies be many, my cause is iust: vpon which warrant I am feareles of my foes, and resolute in mine opinion.

Bargetto likewise glad of this fauour, protested before Quéene Aurelia and the whole company, that in the faithfull execution of his charge, the prodigall spoyle of his life should giue contempt to death.

The Doctor,The dash of a Pen, is more grieuous then the counter­buse of a lance. that had giuen as many déepe wounds with his Pen, as euer he had done with his lance, shronke no more at these threats, then an Oke at the Helue of an Axe, but coldely willed him, to vse his pleasure, hée was ready to de­fend (or to die, in) his opinion.

Whereupon Bargetto, to strengthen himselfe the better, made this remembrance, of the yester dayes report.

It is (quoth he) already approoued,Free choise in mariage defen­ded. if the married in for­ced mariages, could as well finish with the Church, as they can account with their consciences: their ioy to be Maried was not so colde, as their destre to bée deuorsed would bée whot: therfore by this awke ward successe in forcement, a frée choise in Mariage cannot choose, but continue (as I think) as much loue betwéene the Maried, as the other sowed debate.

Rashnes and constraint (quoth the Doctor) are both vio­lents,Reproofe, &c. Defence, &c. and euery violent is a vice, then how can a vicious at­tempt [Page]haue a vertuous successe? men doo euill (quoth Barget­to) that good may come of it, and it is allowed.

And men doo good (quoth the Doctor) that euill may come of it, and it is forbidden:Reproofe, &c. for it is the intent both in good and euill, that commendeth or condemneth: and what good intent hath the foolish young man, y^t by his rashnes in mariage, rob­beth his parents of their comfort, and himselfe of his credit?

He satisfieth his fancy (quoth Bargetto) a special regarde in Mariage: & where there is a swéete accord betwéene the Ma­ried, the parents cannot but reioyce, and the neighbours are bound to speake well: and beautie in his wiues face, wil féed his heart with a thousand delights: so that he shall sustaine want with little griefe & labour to get wealth with a great desire: for where vnitie is, small things growe to great.

Such may be the vnitie (quoth the Doctor) as smal griefes may growe to great sorrowes,Reproofe, &c. when the winde is in the neck of a stooping Trée, it falleth downe right: and when the vn­thriftines of the Husband, agréeth with the euill huswiferie of the Wife, Sorrow striueth to be in the maried mans bo­some, before the maried be in his wiues bead: and what o­ther expectation may there be, either of the one or the other, when he satisfieth his fancie, before he considereth of the du­ties of Mariage? and she in taking an husband, that is igno­rant in the affaires of husbandrie, and in offices of Mariage: It is the office of the maried, to be aduised ere he loue,Duties before Mariage. and lo­uing to be reposed in his choise: It is the office of the maried to be prouide for an household, before he take possessiō of his hearts delight: and it is the office of the maried, to examine the conditions of his mistresse, before he enter into any coue­nant of mariage. And how can he be aduised, that marieth without the priuitie of his Parents? And how can he sup­port an household, that marrieth with his Parents displea­sure, vpon whose deuotion he liueth? and how can he iudge of his mistresse conditions, that wanteth discretion to consi­der of his owne estate? and where you alledge, the beauty of his wiues face, wil féede the husband with delight: his delight will starue his body, without other supplies: so that when charge shall increase, and his wealth diminish, let the foolish [Page]young maried man, impose himselfe vpon this fortune, that he cannot so oft kisse the swéete lippes of his beautifull wife, as he shalbe driuen to fetch bitter sighes, from his sorrowfull heart.

Sir (quoth Soranso, Defence, &c. taking Bergettos part:) of two euils the least is to be chosen: and it is lesse euill for a man, to liue a while hardly, and satisfie his owne fancie, then to liue euer discontented and please his friends. The good behauiour of the maried may win the parents to consent, and amend their exhibition: or death may come, and put them in possession of their parents liuing.

If either of these chance, as one is shortly like to happen, the penance that they indured, will season their prosperitie, and counsell the maried to kéepe within their teacher, to leap within their latchet, and liue within their compasse: the lo­uing aduise of the husband will reforme the disposition of e­uill in the wife.No man nor woman, but in some point deserue to be blamed, and in some other to be praised. For (as Plato saith,) there is no woman so perfect good, but in some one point may be reprehended: nor no man so faultlesse, but that some what in him may be amen­ded: so that if the Husband gently reprehend the fault of his Wife, and the Wife patiently suffer the offence of her Hus­band, the abilitie of their estate will sustaine a household, and their loue and agréement will bée an especiall comfort vnto themselues, and a commendable example vnto all the neighbours.

The best of both your euils (quoth Doctor Mossenigo) is starke naught:Reproofe, &c. but our question was not, to chuse the least of euils, but that which is simply good: not withstanding, to answer to the sequell of this rashenes in mariage, you say, their good behauiours may recouer their parents good will, but I prophesie, that their euill demeanours, are more likely to extinguish the affection of a Father: for necessitie will ac­custome the Husband with dishonest shifts, and kéepes his fayre Wife from being idle: for want must bée supplyed, what shame so euer ensue. Then is it likely, that the parents which did shut their purses in the beginning, to punish the contempt of their Children, wil now fast lock them, to be re­uenged of their infamie. And where you gaue them a hope, [Page]by their parents death: I say no man dyneth worse,Their pen­nance is great that liue in in­certaine hope. then ho­ping Tantalus, nor none are more wetshod, then they which expect dead mens shooes, and when they fall, the soules (per­haps) will bée worne: I meane the Father in his life time, may take order to die euen with the world, or at least, leaue his liuing maimed, and the most of his substance wasted: for in a tempest at Sea, what Pylot hath any care of goods, that féeth the ship at the point to sinke:An vngodly child maketh an vnthrifty father. euen so what parents can haue any ioy of worldly wealth (more then to defend ne­cessitie) when hée séeth, the heyre both of his labor and liuing, out of hope of well dooing: so that through this rashnesse many sonnes, during their fathers liues, with hard shiftes, shift of necessity, and after their deathes liue disinherited: and not altogether so much for their owne contempt,The seuerall paines of of­fences. as for their wiues incontinency: and truely in the first, although the parents may be thought cruell, yet are they not to be re­puted vnnaturall, for that euery offence hath his proper scourge: restitution is the true paine for robbery: an eye is reuenge for an eye, a hand for a hand, death challēgeth death, and disobedience in the sonne, deserueth disinheritance, by the father.Incontinency slandereth an honest mans house. Touchiug this dishonesty of the daughter in law (as it is great hazard but that necessitie thus bestowed, will bend her a little:) the seueritie is sufferable, if her husbands father shut her forth of his doores, for that the honour of a mans house is so delicate, as it can away with no staine: and (reseruing your fauours vertuous dames) where a strum­pet entereth, she stuffeth the house with slander, as carraine infected the ayre with stincke, yea the occasion is iust: if the father spare to get, and the mother cease to saue, nay if they spend that which they haue, for it were great pittie, that there should bée any thing left, either of their liuing or la­bour, to support a harlots pride. O how innumerable are the inconueniences of this temeritie in mariage? The wise by coniecture and dayly experience séeth, and the foolish (with sorrowe in their owne entrailes) féeleth: and therefore as a hainous offence, the auncient Philosophers (which without partiallitie, checked Vice, and cherrished Vertue) punished this contempt of Children. Plutarke saieth, [Page]the sonne that marieth without his Parents consent, among the Gréekes was publikely whipped:Paines for te­meritie in ma­riage. among the Lacede­monians disherited, and among the Thebanes both disinhe­rited, and of his parents openly accursed.

The yonger company, began to feare a restraint of Frée­loues libertie, and their Goddesse Beauties disgrace: The Doctor gaue Capitaine Bargetto such crosse blowes, who though he fainted in his opinion, yet (like a Cocke, that hath one of his eyes stricken out, & his head bared to the braines, yet striketh vntill he dyeth) he assayled the Doctor with this one more reason.

Master Doctor (quoth he) they goe far that neuer returne,Defence, &c. and the battaile is very cruell where none escapes: what al­though a number spéede ill in making of their owne choice, many haue prospered well. In matches of the best foresight, good Fortune hath not alwaies béen found, and yet foresight is not to be blamed, nor the other aduenture to be dispitefully condemned. Ouid saith, that Forma numen habet, then by ver­tue of her Diuinitie, it is like shée will sustaine them in ad­uersity, that in prosperity became her vowed Seruants: nei­ther dooth this stayne of the wiues behauiour often follow, for where Beautie, Loue, and Frée choise, maketh the Ma­riage, they may be crossed by Fortune, & yet continue faith­full. Piramus and Thisbie, Romeus and Iuliet, Arnalt and A­micla, and diuers others at the point to possesse their loues, were dispossest of their liues, but yet vnstained with disho­nesty. This want with which you threaten them, what is it in respect of the pleasures these Louers possesse? Wealth which is the contrary,A description of wealth abu­sed. what is it, being ill vsed? a beautie in the Chest, a bondage to the minde, and a blot in the soule: but a couple vnited by this affection, for a little Fleabiting of worldly penury, suck Nectar betwéene their lips, cram Man­na into their Bowels, & possesse heauen in their harts. How farre Master Doctor argueth from the opinion of ancient Philosophers, and famous Schoolemen, these authorities witnesseth:A ioy of true loue. Ouid, Nigidius, Samocratius, Petrarke, and o­thers in their life time, adored Beauty, with their bookes honored her, & by their deaths eternized her glory. But for [Page]that her vertues be diuine, and Maister Doctor is soyled with slannder, blasphemy and mallice, he is vnworthy to be perfected with one thought of her excellency, which ig­norance maketh him so obstinate. The yonger company be­gan to take hart in hearing of this tale, so that the Gentle­women strengthened Bargetto with good countenances, for (for modesties sake) they were silent, and the Gentlemen succoured him with their best reasons, but all this hope pro­ued but a lightning ioy: for Doctor Mossenigo double enra­ged, partly for the check he receiued, partly for the counte­nance the company gaue his aduersary, but chéefely for to beholde a new Dye set vpon a stained matter, so sharpely refuted Bargetto, as he had no delight to reply, nor his sup­porter desire to succour him. (Quoth he) Ouid dreamed of a diuinitie in beauty, but neuer tasted other then a swéete ve­nime to procéede from her: He loued Iulia, Augustus daugh­ter, and enioyed her, but with what fortune?Sundry fa­mous Philoso­phers and Po­ets punished for their loues. Cause of rash Mariages. marry he was stript of his liuing, and spoyled of his liberty for her sake. Ni­gidius an ancient Romaine and in great fauour with the people, for this folly tasted of Ouids fortune, which was, to dye in exile. Samocratius was in youth so prodigall of his Loue, as in age hated of his fréends, he died in prison with famine. And as for frantick Petrarke, I feare me Madonna Laura smiled more often in reading of his follies, then he him selfe did with the swéet recompences of his fancies. All these were men learned, wise, and in their other actions (for their grauitie) were admired, and onely for their lightnesse in loue, liue to this day defamed: For your other authori­ties, your owne remembrance of their deaths, shew a ven­geance sufficient for the contempt of their children. But where you say Beauty, Loue, and Frée-choyse lade the Maried with such pleasures, that they endure pouertie as a Fleabiting. Indéede want will so quicken them, as the hus­band will leap at a crust, and the wife trot for her dinner, But suppose the best, thus maried (whose loues are indiffe­rent) with patience doo indure the afflictions of Fortune: their agréement is no generall warrant. The greater num­ber of these Mariages are not solemnized through equali­tie [Page]of liuing. The couetous Marchant with no more delight heareth the passing bell of his rich neighbour, which promi­seth him the first loppe of his sonnes liuing, then the poore Gentleman eyeth the able heire, with desire to match him, (perhaps) with his faire proud daughter. Then as pleasant baites baineth Fish, as counterfeit Calles beguileth foules, and as Crocodiles teares intrappeth fooles: to like destruc­tion, lures are throwne to lime this gallant, fréendly vsage shall intice him, good wordes shall welcome him, curtesie shall chéere him, Beauty shall bewitch him, and faire pro­mises shall altogeather beguile him. Newe vessels are apt for any liquour, and yong heads (empty of experience) are seduced with easie subtilties: to be short, he shalbe betrothed by cunning:An vnfortu­nate Mariage. his promise once past (for that in delay is dan­ger) the Mariage must be in poste haste, and the misliking at leasure: but in most of these matches, the sorrow beginneth before the solemnity of the Mariage endeth. The father hearing of the indiscretion of his sonne, galleth his hart with gréefe: the mother spoyleth her eyes with teares, and the fréend occupieth his tung, in bemoning of his kinsemans folly. There is yet a further sorrow, bitter to the father, and vnbeneffciall to the sonne. The father that thought to be­stowe his daughter with the Mariage money of his sonne, is forced to diminish his inheritance, for her aduauncement, and by this meanes the ioy which begun in the beauty of his wife, is like to ende in the beggerye of himselfe: and since these vnsauery effects growe from the vertue of beauties di­uinitie, let Mounsier Bargetto burne in his heresie.

But Doctor Mossenigo will holde himselfe happie, neuer to be warined by her fire.

Bargetto had not a woord more to say,A Gentleman in his reuenge ought not to offend a ciuill company, but angerly looked vpon his swoord, with a countenance that promised ven­geance vpon the Doctors blasphemous tung, had he not béen staied with a reuerent consideration of the company.

In the end, because Maister Doctor should not be too proud of his conquest, nor Bargetto ouermuch apalled with his de­feate, quoth Segnior Fabritio Iudge of the controuersies, in a single controuersie the argument of the one is to be allow­ed [Page]as truth, and the cauilling of the other to be reiected as error: but for that this hath béene a double contention, as in defence and reproofe, both of Beauty and Frée-choise of ma­riage, Madona Isabella and I, pronounce sentence with Bar­getto, in the behalfe of Beauty, for Beauty is a blessing, and if she worke euill effects in some, their naughty disposition and not Beauty is to be blamed: and with Doctor Mosse­nigo we likewise giue iudgement in reproofe of rashnes in Mariage.

This iudgement pleased Quéene Aurelia, and the whole company, who were glad that they were thus forewarned of y^e inconuenience of Frée-choyse in Loue, which they a lit­tle fauoured, but yet were moreglad of the triumph of beau­ty, whom they all affectedly honoured,Vertue commendeth he­selfe. and therefore quoth Quéene Aurelia, good wine néed no Iuie Bush, fine Marchā ­dise are sold without a Signe, and beauty is sufficienly com­mended by her own excellency, and therefore we will spare Bargettos ready seruice, vntill oportunitie present further imployment.

But for that your triumph shal haue his full right, we li­cence you to tel some one historie to confirme your reasons.

The Doctor glad of this liberty, who (although he had receiued no disgrace: yet he repined that he had not y^t whole honour of the disputation) determined in his history a little more to nettle y^t fauourers of beauty, with which intent vpō Quéen Aurelias commaundement, he reported as foloweth.

The History in reproofe of rash Mariages, reported by Doctor Mossenigo.

BEsides Capo Verdo in times past, the capitall Citie with­in the kingdome of Naples, sometime dwelled a forward yong Gentleman called Marco Malipiero, Beauty, half a Dowry in a woman. the sonne & heire of Caualiero Antonio Malipiero, in his youth renowned, for many valiant seruices. This yong Gentleman in the pride of his youth, became inamoured of a most faire Gentlewo­man named Felice, the Daughter of Philippo Prouolo, an auncient Gentleman, by harde aduenture decaied. [Page]But yet in despite of Fortunes iniurie, who disabled him with many losses, and thereby of small wealth to aduance his Daughter: Felice her selfe was inriched with such per­fections of nature, that the fréends lamented, but could not blame the affection of yong Malipiero: which in very déede grewe so great, as it contemned the dutie of a childe, and scorned the aduise of a Father: Felice alone gouerned him, and none but Felice he obeyed.

Prouolo intertained Malipiero with y^e curtesie of a fréend,The poore see­keth to match with wealthy. as the good partes he possessed: as for the possibilitie of li­uing he stood in, who (striking the iron while it was hotte) secretly fianced Malipiero to his faire Daughter. The olde Knight stormed at these newes, and notwithstanding this knowne contract, if by any perswasions he could haue reuo­ked his sonnes consent, he would haue caused the Pope to haue dispensed with his conscience: and to that effect he cau­sed sundry of his fréends to deale with him in these affaires. And among many an auncient Gentleman, his Gouernour and sometimes his Schoolemaister (whose grauitie Malipie­ro reuerenced) in a milde order commoned with him, and a­mong other questions demaūded with what reason he could iustifie his light affections, and cōdemne the sound aduice of fréends.

Malipiero resolute in his loue boldely answered,A rash an­swere. that Feli­ces deuine beauty, was a sufficient warrant for either.

This wise Gouernour would not harden his hart with obstinacy,The wordes sheweth the wit of the re­porter, but his gesture cau­seth attention in the hearer. in a sharpe reprehension of his publike arrogant answere, but with an affable countenance coniured him to listen vnto his graue sayings.

O (quoth he) is she beautiful? then you haue work inough to watch her, and mischaunce sufficient to suspect her.

Is she beautifull? then her rashnes in consent sheweth that she is indiscréete: so that the diuersitie of qualities will soone finde out a diuision in your desires.

Is she beautifull? then it is like (by her quick agréement) that she is poore, then is her loue fastened on your riches: so that when you lack money to maintain her pomp, she leaues to make much of your person.

Is she beautifull? then she is withall (lightly) proud,The nature of Pride. and the pride of a woman (saith Periander) is like vnto a Drop­sey: for as drinke encreaseth the drouth of the one, so (saith he) Cost enlargeth the expence of the other: then if your pursse be not open to féede her folly, she will pawne her ho­nour to please her fancy.

Is she beautifull? then her indiscretion in this hastinesse, shewes her but a slender huswife, so that the charge of your house shall eate and consume your gaines abroad.

Is she beautifull? then your dispence must be in her dispo­sition, or else her lookes will little repose you: if she order your goods, her expences will be great, and her gettings small, your house shall be stored with costly stuffe, and your seruants starued with lack of meat, she will goe like a Pea­cock, and you like a meacock: what followeth? in her braue­ry she must be séene: if she take the libertie to walke, she giueth other occasion to speak, and your selfe to sigh. A faire picture set in the market place, moueth many to gase: if the counterfeit giueth contentment, the creature must néeds de­light: and if any vie we your wife with vnlawfull affection, his practises will be many to winne his desire. Take héede, you vndertake an intising course, which without good order will make you breathelesse before the midst of your race: you enter into great charge, sée meanes to support it. Your Father liues, and must maintin his accustomed reputation: if he spare to sustaine you, it is much: to defray the charge of your Wife and housholde, he cannot: therfore so loue, that this dispence may be shared betweene you and your wiues Parents: and as far foorth as I can sée, Felices Father hath much adoe, to kéepe raine out of his house top: then if with difficultie he lieth dry in his Bed, it is impossible he should haue any great cheare at his Boorde: what reckoning can you make, to be supported by him that hath it not? and how can you dare presume to be supplyed by your owne Father? when the temeritie of your mariage displeaseth him to death. Look into these mischéefes, before you féele the mise­series they presage: looke before you leape, least you be wet, before you be aware: your fréendes hath a comfort, but [Page]you the benefite of well dooing.

The Schoolemaister gaue Malipiero this aduice, with such a temperate gesture:Loue enioy­neth vs to doe what we know is amis. that (although good counsell pre­uasled not,) yet he reuerently tolde him, that his experience knew more, then his gréene imagination could attaine: and therefore he would meditate of his louing admonition, and procéede no further without his priaitie. But ah, these were but swéet words to betray himselfe, and to blinde his fréend. For vpon the first oportunitie Malipiero spéedes vnto PHI­LIPPO PROVOLO, and recountes the importuny­ties of his fréends, with a desire to haue the Mariage priuily solemnised, since that he could not obtaine the open consent of his parents.

Prouolo fearing the danger of delay, was as ready to sa­tisfie, as Malipiero was earnest to request: insomuch as ear­ly in a morning,An early mari­age worketh a late repentāce. Marco Malipiero was set in possession of his harts delight: and before night was dispossessed of his whole bodies welfare: for his sorowful Father, and heauy fréends hearing of this suddaine Mariage, after they had a while be­moned the rashnes of Malipiero, with the affection of Pa­rents, menaced to punish his ouersight (in not regarding him) as Strangers.

Prouolo on y^e other side, to giue knowledge to his Sonne in lawes fréends,The reward of pride is pouer­tie. that although Fortune had crossed him, she had not wholy consumed him: set out his ability to the most aduantage, much like vnto a market Marchant, that on a New yéeres day morning exposeth his painted tokens to the richest shew: his Sonne (in law) was accommodated with the attire and furniture of a Gentleman, and his wife was set foorth with the shew of rich Malipieroes Heires Espouse, and not as poore Prouoloes daughter:The common sort iudge as they affect. Insomuch as the com­mon sort blinded with shewes, iudged after their eyes affec­tion, and reputed old Malipiero a cruel couetous Churle, for dealing with Prouolo so frowardly, that had intreated his Sonne so honourably. But these murmurings little moued the good ancient knight: for wel he wist, this brauery was but a blase, as soone ended as the flame of a dry Faggot. And which should auenge him, this pride promised a change, at­tired [Page]with as much pennurie as the other with pompe.

The following effect, confirmed olde Malipieros opinion: for Prouolo spent so largely at the beginning, in hope with this florish, to make accorde betwéen the Sonne and the fa­ther, as now his Table was furnished with emptie plat­ters,The misery of want. and his Audit bags with a set of Counters. So that Want, that will make a toothlesse woman to bite at Brasen walles, entred into Prouolos House, and swore both him and his whole houshold vnto the statutes of necessity, whose lawes were so straite, that although they all had great occa­sion of sorowe, they had no leasure for shifting to supply their wants: insomuch as in short time there was no Neighbour that Prouolo was not in his debt or danger, and no good na­tured youth there abouts, that Marco Malipiero had not boorded or coosoned.

And what should faire Felice doo in this extremetie? liue vpon her husbands trauell, and be idle her selfe? that were no good Huswiferie: and yet poore Malipiero loued her so déerly, that he would haue ventured vpon a thousand infamies, to maintain her in the state of an honest Gentlewoman, but although his shifts helped, they defraied not her desire to be braue. A Diamond hath not his grace but in gold, nor a faire Woman her full commendation but in the ornamentes of brauerie. So that attired to her best aduantage,Brauery belen­geth to Beuty. Piatso a mar­ket place, or a place of assem­bly. faire Felice would many times walk vnto y^t Piatso Richio, a place where the brauest Gentlemen assembled, and where the finest de­uices were solde, she taking this liberty to walk, bound y^e gal lant yong gentlemen in eurteste to Court her: curteous ser­uice is to be accepted with thanks: acceptance of seruice in­largeth acquaintance: acquaintance ingendreth familiarity: and familiarity setteth all follies abroach: So that let other Maried men take warning by Malipieros hard Fortune,A necessary note. for if their wiues loue gadding like faire Felice, & be inconstant, do want, or finde in their husbands miscontentmēt, twenty to one they will pawn their honors to please their fancies.

Well, Felice lost nothing by these iournies, for some one Gallant would present her with a Ventoie, to coole her selfe: some other with a mirrour to beholde her selfe: [Page]and some with Lawnes,Curtesie done with an euill intent. Ruffes, Coyfes, and such necessa­ries to set out her selfe: and yet vpon no dishonorable condi­tion, but (by your leaue) with hope of an after fauour.

This trafique faire Felice vsed, vntill (among a number that temperately affected her,) Marino Giorgio the rich Or­phant of Capo verdo immoderately loued her, and withall the honors of curtesie serued her: But notwithstanding his lusty personage might please: his louely countenance might intice: and his rare wit, passing through a swéet tung, might be witch a woman in loue: for that Malipiero was inriched with these perfections: Felice regarded Marino Georgio, but with an ordinary grace:Disdaine haunteth desire. and had it not béene for that Arch­inchaunter, Golde (perhaps) would neuer haue béene in­constant.

This light account of Felice inlarged the affection of Ma­rino, The fire of loue. for as drinke increaseth the dropsies drouth, so disdaine heapeth coles vpon desire: whereof Marino (Teste seipso) hath left an infallible authoritie: whose torments were so gréeuous, as the fire, which of all flames burneth most, and appearesh least, burst out of his mouth the smoake of such furious sighes, that where he was but late of a pure San­guine Complection, he séemed now nothing but Choller adust: So that his fréends mourned, and many moned his strange alteration, who counselled him to take the Phisiti­ans aduice: But neither Galen, Hipocrates, nor their enemy Paracelsus, could skill of his cure, so that he was in danger to haue consumed to Cinders, had not Macrello the Phisiti­on of Loue vndertaken his health, who comforted him with many swéet words of hope:Phisick cureth not loue. but Marino continually afflic­ted himselfe in recounting an impossibility of fauour.

Why (quoth Macrello) is not your personage séemely? Yes, but it doth not please. Is not your face louely? Yes, but it doth not allure. Is not your wit quick and good? Yes, but it can not perswade. Is not Felice a woman? Yes, and more, an Angell.

Well, then (quoth Macrello) be of good comfort, Angels be not cruell nor stéely harted.

O (quoth Marino) but Felice is constant and true to he [Page]husband, who to continue her affection, is graced with these and many more perfections.

Yea (quoth Macrello) but hee wanted one of your chiefest beauties.

What one is that (quoth Marino?) Euen that,The force of Golde. that o­pened the double locked doore of Acrisius brasen Tower, and put Iupiter in possession of his daughter Danais loue. And thinke you this golden Beauty will not make a passage in­to poore Malipieros bed-chamber? I warrant you yeas: you haue Golde more at commaundement than I, but I know the vertue better then you.

This short tale quickned dying Marino, as the flashe of Rose water doth a sullen swounding childe.

Whereupon (quoth he) Macrello, if your medicine bee of no lesse vertue to restore my life, then your wordes to giue me hope: the fortune shall be your profite, as wel as my pleasure.Hope comfor­teth, but Loue cureth the Lo­uer.

Well (quoth Macrello) sustaine your selfe with hope, and for that your inuention is delicate, deuise you some cu­rious rich Iewel, & let me alone (quoth hée) both to charme and to present it: and so with a remembrance in the hande, he left Marino to contemplate of his loue, and to consider how to recouer his life: who in the end, concluded to sende faire Felice, the Image of himselfe in Golde, inameled black, his face meagre and pale, and by a deuice, the blacke mantle throwen aside, for to appeare the bared Carkasse of Death, with the intrayles consumed, and in the seate of his life,Marinoes pre­sent to his Mistresse. to place Felice, attyred with Diamonds, Rubies, Emrods, and other precious Stones, looking vpon his smoking heart, whereupon was written these two briefes.

This Image made vnto his fancie, he wrote this follow­ing Letter.

THis letter Sealed, and Subscribed, To the handes of the most faire Felice: Macrello was sent for: to whom Mari­no deliuered both the Iewell, & the letter, without instructi­ons to doe his message: for Protheus could not change him­selfe into moe shapes then Macrello: as well to auoyd sus­pition, as to compasse his purpose: who behaued himselfe so cūningly in Marinoes errand, as (to be short, vertues dames) after many perswasions, Felice returned him with this an­swere.

THis Letter was subscribed, Life to Marino Georgio: and deliuered to the faithfull Macrello: with charge, that he should make knowen his great importunities, be­fore Felice would graunt so hie a fauour: which Prouiso, might haue béen spared: for Macrello (partely for his glory, but chiefly for his owne benefite) vpon deliuery of this Let­ter, willed Marino to receiue it, as a Conquest as hardly gotten, as Hercules labours: & if (quoth he) I had indured not your torments (by Imagination) it had not béen impossible to haue mooued Felice to rueth: Marino heard these circum­stances, with no better remembrance,Sodaine ioy or sorrow dulleth our sences. than if he had béen in an Extasie: The Subscription, Life to Marino, ouercame him with such a sodaine passion of Ioy, who read, and a hundred times ouer read this Life letter: and for that it came from Felices swéet hand, he a thousand times kissed the Paper.

Which done, by the direction of Macrello, this Conque­rour Golde, made such a passage, into a reputed honest Citi­zens house, as without suspition, Marino Georgio, and fayre Felice, there (many times) mette, but to what purpose,Gold maketh passage into difficult places. I leaue to your constructions: and yet thus much I say, this Fortune followed: Marino in shorte space recouered his former Complexion: and it was not long before Felice was richer then either Father or Husband.

But, O that Furie Ielousie, enuying this Accord, sent slie Suspition, to infect Malipieroes heart: who prying with Lynx his eyes, presented him a thousand causes of mistrust,Thevenemous nature of Ie­lousy. which loue straite supprest with as many contrarie imaginations of his Wiues good behauiour: insomuch, that with the sharpe uicounter of Loue, and mistrust, poore man, he was continually afflicted.A shrewd sus­pition.

In conclusion, séeing his Wife to excéede in brauery, and knowing himselfe, to decline with pouerty, be resolued vpon [Page]this certainty: this cost could not come from the empty Coffers of her vndone Parents:Suspect is more cunning then Argus was wary. and then procéeding from others, it was impossible to be the fauoures of honest curte­sie: so that armed with furie, he deferred reuenge, but to in­trap the friend of his wiues follies, and the enemie both of her honour, and his delight.

In fine, as héedeful, as these Louers were in their dea­lings, Ielousie directed suspecte to Marino Georgio: and moreouer,Neapolitans are most seuere in reuenge. made him an eye witnesse of the iniuries done vn­to Malipiero: which when he assuredly knew, hee studied a while of a torture, equall to this trecherie: for who hath not heard the Neapolitan to be the seuerest reuenger of dishonor in the world? To be briefe, his bait was this, hee fayned a iourney far from home, and furnished himselfe, with such an apparance of trueth,A Iudas kisse. as tooke a way all colour of suspition: which done, with a dissembling kisse, he committed his wife to God, and the charge of his house to her good gouerne­ment: and so set forward towardes Rome.

Malipiero was no sooner a mile on his way, then Macrel­lo certified Marino of this wished opportunitic: and Loue made both him and Felice so bolde, as in his owne house they determined the following night, to exercise vpon Malipiero their wonted iniurie:A fit time to deceiue mi­strust. but about midnight when mistrust was at repose, Malipiero entered the house with such a so­daine violence, as these two vnfortunate friends, were sur­prised amids their imbracements, before they had warning to shifte: I sorrowe to tell the rest, but trueth will haue passage.

Malipiero, in his reuenge like a Lyon hungring after his praye: with his Rapyer and these bitter wordes nayled Marino vnto the Bed.

But holding death too easie a scourge of his wiues tres­passe, he condemned her to this torture, more extreme then death: He made an Anatomie of her welbeloued Marino, and set him in a fayre Chamber, within which, hee inclosed his wife, without dooing her any bodily iniurie; saue the cut­ting [Page]of her haire, and to say trueth,Haire, the or­naments of Chastitie. this beautiful ornament of haire, beséemeth not an Adultresse head. And to punish her the more, Malipiero caused her euery dinner and supper to take her accustomed place, that at meales she might bee tor­mented with the sight of her liuing enemie, and all the day with the bones of her martyred friend: neither could shée quench her thirst, but out of a Mazar, made of Marinoes skul. But (to tell her vertue,The bounden office of a Writer. with her vice) her patience was such, as she was neuer heard to complain of this cruelty: and yet her penitent sorrow so great, as the plenty of her teares, sometimes moued her iniured Husband to pittie.

But least he should be ouercome with compassion,Iustice must not yeeld to the teares of Trespassers. ma­ny times from dinner, hee commaunded her to her prison: who after an humble reuerence, went behinde the Tapestry hangings, and so vnto her solitary Chamber, barred from other company thē the gastly bones of vnfortunate Marino: which penance she patiently indured, vntil God, who saw that her repentance was vnfayned, sent Segnior Cornaro to be a peace maker betwéene her husbands iniurie,God regardeth repentance. and her offence: who (when Supper was set vpon the Boorde) sée­ing from behinde the Tapistrie Hangings, a fayre Gentle­woman to appeare, somewhat pale with sorrow, her head bare, both of attyre and hayre, apparelled all in black, and in her hand, her drinking Boule of Marinoes skull, and saying neuer a word, with a sober reuerence sitting downe in the chiefest place: was stroken with such amaze, as on the so­dayne he wist not what to say.

Dinner being ended, which was longer than pleasant, ei­ther to husband, wife, or friend: Felice, as she entered, so de­parted, Who not withstanding left part of her sorrow be­hinde in Cornaros heart, whose cheareles countenance, whē Malipiero perceiued (quoth hee) let not the martyrdome of this woman afflict you: for her fault deserueth this venge­aunce, and so recounted the reported aduenture. And in ad­uantage, she wed him her prison,A honourable fauour. and the Anatomie of her dishonour, and withall licensed him to talke with Felice, to heare what plea shee had for her discharge. Vppon which warrant, quoth Cornaro, Madame, if your patience bee e­quall [Page]with your torment, I holde you the most happy Wo­man of the world. Felice with a countenance abased, and Chéeks dewed with teares tolde him in humble words,The true en­signe of sor­row. that her trespasse was ten times greater then the torment which the Lord of the house, whome shee was not worthy to call husband, had appoynted her. And therewithall the sorrow of her heart tooke away the vse of her tongue. Whereupon Malipiero led the Gentleman away, who rendred him af­fected thankes, in that besides his good entertaynment, hée witsafed him the honour to know so great a secresie: with­all, moued with compassion, he effectually intreated Malipi­ero to accept Felices sorrow,True repen­tance, is to be receiued in sa­tisfaction of offences. the true witnesse of grace and amendment, as satisfaction of her offence, which pro­céeded of frailtie, and withall importuned him with such earnest reasons, as Malipiero mas content to send bath for her and his owne friends.Perfect loue, cannot be so iniured, but it will alwaies re­taine some affection. To be partly ruled, and partly aduised by them in her behalfe.

The parentes and friends of euery side séeing the humi­litie, sorrow, and patience of poore Felice, were all earnest sutors for her remission.

The roote of auncient loue not altogether dead in Mali­piero, was comforted with their intercessions, and quickned with the hope of amendment: in so much, as vpon solemne promise to be henceforth of good behauiour, hee receiued her to grace: and to repayre her crased honour, with the fauour of both their parents, he new maried fayre Felice, in which holie estate,A reparation of dishonour. they liued, loued, and agréed many happie yeares afterward together: And with the bones of Marino Georgio buried the remembrance of former iniuries.

Master Doctor, quoth Fabritio, you haue reported a ve­ry necessary historie: for it contayneth many héedfull notes both of admonition and aduise. Besides the due punishment of rashnes in Marriage. For therein we may sée how hun­gerstarued want, compelleth the best natured man to de­ceiue his friend, and yéelde vnto his owne slaunder. Againe, how that monster, Golde, conquereth the honour of the fayrest. Yea, quoth Isabella, & corrupteth y^t conscience of the [Page]wisest: so that this is no example of any honour to you men, because Golde inticed Felice to be disloyall to her husband, for it draweth many of you both from the feare and loue of God.

Well, quoth Soranso, let it passe, Felice in her repentance hath made a large amends of her trespasse, and I feare me, if euerie like offence were so sharpely punished, wee should haue Mazers of mens Skuls more ordinary then sil­uer Boules, and pouled women more common than balde men.

Not so, quoth Quéene Aurelia, Feare of corre­ction brideleth the affections of the euill. for a few of these exam­ples would bridle the incontinent affections both of man and woman, if not for the loue of vertue, for the feare of correcti­on. After these and a fewe other Moral notes were culled out of Doctor Mossenigoes History.What hurteth one, instru­cteth the other

Madame, quoth Dondolo, if we continue this course, it will be a good while before we doo finde out the Paradise that Plato speaketh of.

Be it so, quoth Quéene Aurelia: but if we still continue the way to his house Hell, our errour will instruct others: and since we haue yet long respite, it shall not bée amisse e­uery day to take a sundry hie way, vntil we find out the true passage: And for that our Question is concluded, and our houre glasse run, we wil (for this Day) make here an end.

The Question that arose by beholding the Mountebanks, in the third Nights Pastime.

AT the accustomed houre, Supper was serued in, with manie dayntie Dishes, which were sauced with sundry short ciuill, and pleasant euents of the Gentlemen and Gen­tlewomens wits: For he, or she, was held of weake capa­citie that either of forestudy, or vpon offered occasion, could say nothing of good regarde.

In the ende, when supper was done,Breuitie is best for Table talke and Quéene Aurelia, and the most Honourable of the company had ta­ken their places vpon a Scaffold made for the nonce, there mounted a Mountebanke, his neck bechayned with liue Ad­ders, [Page]Snakes,Mountebanks of Italie are in a maner as English pedlers Eau'ts, and twentie sundry kinde of veny­mous vermines, whose mortall stinges were taken away by Arte, and with him a Zanni, and other Actors of pleasure: who presented themselues onely with a single desire to re­create Segnior Philoxenus, and his worthy company: and not with the intent of common Mountibankers, to deceiue the people with some vnprofitable Marchandise.

In the middest of this pastime, an ancient Gentleman (of the Societie) séeing these Viperous Beasts, by cunning vsage, to be made so Domesticke and affable, whether it were vpon an impression of his owne griefe, or of the expe­rience he had of another mans Plague, I knowe not: but sure I am, he burst into these passions.

O God,The strange nature of [...] womans tung. (quoth he) of what mettal is a womans toung, which correction cannot chastise, nor lenitie quiet, when these dumb Serpents by the one or the other are tamed?

Marie (quoth a pleasant companion) it is made of the same mettall, that Virgils Brasen Flayle was of, which strooke both his friends and foes.

But (quoth the Gentleman) Virgil knew, and taught others how to pacifie this engine.

It is true (quoth the other) but in teaching the secrete vnto his scruant, cost him his own life. So a womā knowes how to holde her tongue, by hauing of her will, but if a man thinke to stay it, he must beate her to death.

A young youth named Phrisio, thinking to winne the Spurres,Defences for a chiding wife. by building a Fortresse for women, who haue no weapons but their tongues, to defend and offend, tooke vp­on him, to prooue a chiding wife, though she bee a little vn­pleasant, both profitable and necessary: his reasons were these.

Vnsauourie receits turne to holsome effectes: The strongest Poyson is pleasant in taste, and the remedie for the poysoned, offendeth the mouth with tartenesse: Net­tles that stinges the hande, maketh Pottage to comfort the heart: the blood of the Scorpion cureth the biting of the Vi­per. If poysoned, vnpleasant, and bitter thinges retayne a vertue for the benefite of man: in my imagination (quoth [Page]he) an vnquiet wife is not vnprofitable though she be a lit­tle vnpleasant: Her anger kéepeth seruants in awe, and her quicknesse ouerséeth their negligence: if her tung runne at riot, where she hunts there is store of abuse, which must be chased either with blowes or words: if y^• fury of her spéech offend her Husband, it is like that her outrage groweth from his fault: and where an iniury is offered, it is suffera­ble, if the wrong be blamed: but which maketh a ful amends for her furious mood: as the clowdy and rainy day lightly cléereth towards night: euen so, though she bitterly scowld at boord, she wil be sure to kisse swéetly a bed.

The auncient Gentlemen commending the quick wit of this yong Gentleman,In blaming, mildens is to be vsed. vsed this circumstance before he re­felled his error.

Ah (quoth he) if wit were as aduised in Iudgement, as he is ready in conceite, his imaginations would turne to won­derfull effects: but as fairest colours soonest staine, as swée­test flowers are blasted with a breath: as beautifull crea­tures, are blemished with a little care, as the brightest Sun threatneth suddaine raine: yea, as euery mortall thing hath his imperfection: euen so, wit being mortall,Wit simply in imperfect. and assigned by Nature, to make man glorious aboue other creatures, by rashnes corrupts the ripenes of his conceites, and to good purpose, his pride is thus abated: for other wise, man which inioyeth wit to worship his Creator, and to liue content with the liberties of the sea, and to kéepe him within the li­mits of the earth, would search the secrets of heauen: and I think dispossesse Pluto of hell.

Yong Gentleman (quoth he) I vse not this ceremony to represse your liberty of spéech: for the errour of your rash­nes, I will refell with reason and experience: but least héer­aftèr you should be as arrogant in opinion, as you are ripe in conceite: I haue thought good, fréendly and bréefely to signifie your imperfection: and now to answere your late suggestion.

I affirme that Nature hath created nothing to a néedlesse purpose, but not withstanding our abuse, or mischance, chan­geth hurtfull things into occasions of our help: surfite, and [Page]sicknes only, commendeth Medicine: and as you affirme, the bloud of a Scorpion, cureth the biting of the Viper.

But take away the cause, which procéedeth from our gréefe, and you shall finde medicine an enemy to health: and the stinge of a Scorpion no better then death: and trust me, he is to be reckoned a foole, and his misfortune to passe vnre­léeued, that wilfully indammageth his health in hope of re­medy. In like sort, let him liue vnpittied, to ouersée the slack­nesse of his seruants, who will marry a wife, whose tung shall ouer-rule himselfe. But more particularly to describe the properties of an vnquiet wife, and more largely to dis­course the displeasures of her vnfortunate husband: I will approoue her lowrings as vnprofitable, as his life is vnplea­sant: you say her quicknesse ouerséeth the negligence of ser­nants: but I affirme, that her curstnesse maketh them as swift to runne away,Shift is vnpro­fitable for Maister and Seruant. as they were slowe to serue her, and common vse auowes, that often shift is neither beneficiall for Maister nor seruant: for proofe, as the rowling Stone gathereth no Mosse, and want of vse canckereth Iron, in likewise thrift flyeth the fléeting Seruant, and idlenes con­sumeth his ability of seruice. Now touching the euill recko­ning of those which are serued: their wandering seruants not onely charge their common accounts, with double wa­ges, but with secret pilfering, they set their maisters in more déepe arrerages. The Grecians that in times past neither vsed medicine for sicknesse,Gienta a ve­nemous herb, one sort wher­of is supposed to be Hem­locke. nor patience in aduersitie, but vpon euery great veration, poisoned themselues with venemous Cienta. In their Histories remember more, that haue voluntarily died, through the violence their Wiues tunges, then of any other calamity. Diogenes being de­maunded the diuersity of an euill, betwéene ascold & a har­lot? answered: They differ as the Viper doth from y^t croc­kadill: for the scolde saith he, with outrage destroyeth her Husband,A needfull re­garde for yong Gentlemen. and the other with dissembling loue, consumeth him to death. And so concluded thē both enemies to life, and quiet liuing of man. Phrisio, being both modestly warned, and throughly answered, with a blushful grace replyed: y^e the grauity of his person, and y^e sound reason in his wordes, had [Page]taken from him al occasion of further Question, vnles that women were his Iudges.An ill cause asketh a parti­all iudge. This wittie shift moued such as were within the hearing to smile, for where the cause is ill, it is necessary to séeke a Iudge that is partiall, and which commended Phrisios gouernment, vpon a small check he left to contend with this ancient Gentleman: for yong men al­though their wittes be good, are not priuiledged to dispute with the grauer sort, without licence, intreatie, or great re­nerence.

By this time the Mountibanke with describing the qua­lities of his vermin, and the Zanni in shewing the knauish conditions of his Maister, had wasted a good part of y^e night, and wearied the most part of the company, so that desire of repose, summoned them vnto their lodgings.

SO déepe are the impressions of sor­row,The great im­pression. as the faining of Poets may be helde for Morall truthes, where as they affirme, that the bitter mone of Orpheus tung, together with the passionate sound of his Instrument, moued such ruth in infernall crea­tures, as while he was a suter to Pluto, for the restitution of his wife Euridice: his plaints so charmed the torments of Hell, as for the time, the Gripe forbare to teare vpon Titius growing hart, Tantalus indeuoured not to drinke, Danais daughters leste filling of their brincklesse Tub: toyling Sisiphus sate and eased himselfe vpon his rowling Stone: yea and Plu­to ouercharged with pitie, made restitution of Euridice. [Page]This sorrow to heare, that Quéene Aurelia by some distem­perature, was sick and kept her Chamber, wrought such gréefes in the hartes of the whole company, that they hung their heads in disgrace, like Garden Flowers: which (sée­ming as teares) are cloyed with the dewe of a foule mi­stie day.True sorrow is knowne ra­ther by sighes then words. Among the rest, Ismarito although he vsed not so many words of lamēt as some other did, yet with the teares of his hart he solemnifed the true rites of a Mourner: and to say truth, where the tung hath frée passage to talke, the hart is occupied with no great gréefe.

Segnior Phyloxenus séeing Ismarito in this passion, and that occasion entertained him with no other busines, while the rest of the company were hearing of a little superstiti­ous seruice,The Pope hath begun, and not yet finished a most rare Gallerie. Beautifull at­tires for a Gallerie. lead him into a very faire beautifull Gallerie, where the Maps of the worlde were so artificially set foorth in painting, as I doubt the Popes Microcosmos at Latteran, which hath béene this sixtéene yéeres a making, will be en­ded with no more perfection. In this Gallerie were the Pictures of all Christian Princes: and in an other place by themselues the pictures of cērtain heathen rulers: & in ano­ther rank the Pictures of so many learned men & graue ma­gistrats, as he could through fréendship or reward obtaine.

After much discourse of the especiall Monuments, where­with this pleasant gallerie was attired,An especiall Booke of de­uises. Segnior Phyloxenus brought Ismarito a faire booke, wherein were diuers rare de­uises, and (directing hun to Pensils, colours, and other ne­cessaryes of Harrowldry) requested that he would helpe to beautifie the said booke, with some ingenious remembrance.

Sir (quoth Ismarito) I haue already recorded your good fa­uours in the table of my hart, and I beséeche you that this faire booke may not be blemished by me, or remaine a wit­nes to you of my indiscretion.

This nicenesse (quoth Philoxenus) professeth more then ordinary knowledge, and therfore I coniure you, by the af­fection you beare me, to satisfie my request.

Ismarito vpon this importunitie, because he would not leaue a suspition,Ismaritos de­uise, Pharos, a Lanterne or light, deuised by King Pto­lemie, sur­named Philadelphus, for the benefit of Nauigation in those parts, which cost 800. talents. that his curiositie grew rather of simplici­tie then discretion: and missing among the Moderne Monu­ments, [Page]their Pictures, the vertues of whose fame, are blazed in the Capitols of the whole world: he tooke a Pensill, and with the same drewe an Iland, and ouer the midst thereof made a Pharos, which shined like the Sunne, and therein a Phenix bathing of her selfe, whose gleaming reflexions shi­ned ouer all Loegria, Cambria, and the greatest part of Alba­nia, and extended vnto a great parte of the Continent, espe­cially vnto that part that lay betwéen the Ocean, the Me­diterrane, and the great Sea called Euxinus Pontus, and vn­derneath writ: ‘Pharos Europae, non Africae.’

Philoxenus aduisedly regarded this deuise, before he would either require Ismaritos intent, or giue his owne iudgement. In the end deuining what should be the secret meaning of this Simbole or Ensigne: quoth he, Segnior Ismarito, this Cognizance of your quick wit, pleaseth me much, and with­all remembreth me of a neglected curtesie, which (I thinke) will shew you the Image of your Phenix, and blason the se­crecie of your whole deuise: and thereupon he lead Ismarito into a most curious priuie Gallerie, where (drawing a faire Curtaine, and reuerently kissing his hand) he shewed Isma­rito the Picture of a Royall Princesse,An honourble fauour. most richly and liuely set foorth, with which a Marchant of Venice who traffiqued toward the Westerne Islands, presented him: which Isma­rito behelde, with a regarde so dutifull, as there néeded no glose to expound the zealous affection of his hart. The coun­terfeits of other Potentates there were, which Philoxenus placed in the ranck of these Princes, for some regarded ver­tues knowne vnto himselfe. And by his owne testimonie, he prised these counterfeites, aboue all the Monuments (an­cient or Moderne) which beautified his Pallace.

Vpon which warrant, Sir quoth Ismarito, A regarde in strangers, to teach subiecte [...] their dutie. the honorable regarde that you haue of these Princes shadowes, being a stranger, prescribeth rules of dutie, vnto their Subiectes, humbly to reuerence their sacred persons.

Indéede (quoth he) it is but iust, their tungs cry, God saue their hignesse, and their harts answere, So be it.

After Segnior Philoxenus and Ismarito had had some con­ference, as well touching the meaning of this Pharos, as of some other deuises figured in Philoxenus Book: the Trum­pets sound gaue knowledge of Dinner: so that this priuate conference was adiorned, till Segnior Philoxenus pleasure should renue it. When Ismarito entered into y^• great cham­ber, and among so many faire Flowers,The Rose is the most glori­ous of flowers. missing the glorious Rose, his countenance well showed, that his mornings sor­row had béene but a sléepe, which new awakened, streaked with the increase of passion, yea such was the pensiuenesse of the whole company,An vnexpec­ted good newes, is dou­ble welcome. as the first seruice represented ra­ther a Funerall dinner, then a Christmas feast. But in the middest of a storme, as Phoebus sometimes beholdeth the Earth, with a chéerefull countenance, so in the deapth of this heauines, there was newes brought of Queene Aureli­as amendment, who commaunded the chosen company after Dinner to attend her comming in the Chamber of plea­sure. This knowledge so quickened the dulled spirites of the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen,Myrth cureth as much as Medicine, where the ma­ladie is not mortall. as they agréed for one day (if Quéene Aurelia pleased) to alter y^e solemne course in their ordinary exercise: for where the malladie is not mortall, mirth cureth as much as medicine, and holding this deter­mination, they, the rest of Dinner, in actions of pleasure, ful­ly auenge themselues of the iniurie of former sorrow: After Dinner was ended, and the company had a while pawsed, to set themselues in good order: vpon a new summons, the appointed number,A sumptuous Tapistrie. marched into this Chamber of Plea­sures, which was hanged with a rich Tapistrie of volunta­ry deuise, euery Trée, Flower, Birde, Beast, or whatso­euer was therein resembled, in his proper colours of Silke, was portraied. The Shéepe with their Fléeces fryzeled, the Beastes curiously raysed with rawe Silke, like vnto their naturall haire, the Trées beautified with proper leaues and fruite, the Rose with his buds, sprigs, and other attire: and to be bréefe, euery other Flower was counterfaited with such Arte, as they séemed to be naturall. Yea a man might haue béene indifferently wise enough,Men may be deceiued with­out the sl [...]un­der of simply­citie in other ordinarie matter, and yet haue aduentured to haue gathered a flower, [Page]or haue plucked an Apple in these hangings, and who so was best acquainted, could not wearie his eyes, in the be­holding of them: so that the very attire of this Chamber walles, had an intertaining vertue, were there no other creature in the place.Curious sights please more then vnciuill people.

Quéene Aurelia attended with the Ladies and Gentle­women, presented her selfe before the yong Gentlemen had halfe gazed their will. The company saluted their Soue­raigne with a reuerent curtesie, whose chéekes some what more bleake then ordinary, with this distemperature, re­sembled in colour the perfect white Gilliflowre,A little sicknes maketh an al­teration in beautie. a little streaked with Carnation.

After some priuate talke betwéene her and one or two of her fauoured Seruants, she tooke her place where she plea­sed, and the rest as they were accustomed, which done, the Eunuch with a well tuned voice, vnto the Lute sung this fol­lowing, Care away,

The note of this Song was farre better then the ditty, [Page]but for that it answered the determination of the company, it passed for currant. Whereupon Madame (quoth Fabri­tio) if it be your pleasure,One square breaketh no custome. we will this day varry from our wonted course, and according to our Theame begin with some mirth, to sharpen our wittes for grauer discourses, we haue time enough besides, to beate out the passage to Platoes Paradise.

Vse your discretions (quoth Quéene Aurelia) and by her commaundement Bargetto was appointed to begin the exer­cise, who obeying, reported this following aduenture of Frier Inganno.

The aduenture of Frier inganno, reported by Mounsier Bargetto.

IN a Village among the Appenine Mountaines, not farre from the place where S. Frauncis lyeth intombed, there sometimes dwelled a faire yong countrey woman named Farina: and for that her house was in the hye way to S. Frauncis holy Reliques, she was many times visited with Friers of his order, who were intertained rather for their habite the their honestie, for the poore ignorant people reue­renced Saint Frauncis as a second Christ, for whose sake they holde his Disciples, not inferiour to Saints: among many that visited Farinas house, Fryer Inganno a smugge Chaplaine, euer sealed his blessings vpon his dames lippes, and yet without suspition of the husband, or dishonest intent of the wife: for such gréeting was euer taken for a holy fauour.

Vpon a time after Frier Inganno had well beaked him­selfe, with a warme fire,It is saide S. Francis subdu­ed incontinent desires, by tumbling na­ked in frost and Snowe. and a good breakfast, the spirite that Saint Frauncis was driuen to coniure downe, by tumbling naked in the frost and snow, tempted his Disciple with such swéete motions, as he was minded wilfully to abiure hea­uen, rather then to deale so roughly with y^e deuil. And taking aduantage of the good opinion the ignorant held of his holy­nes, and was so bolde with Saint Frauncis (his Maister) as to make a wanton match in his name:A premidita­ted sinne. so that after he had a [Page]while considered of his perswasion,The trick of a knauish ser­uant. vpon a quiet opportu­nitie: Blessed art thou (quoth he) among the Appenine coun­trie women, for Saint Frances from heauen hath beheld thy charitable vsage of his Disciples, and the last Night,A gentle per­swasion. after I had prayed with great deuotion before his Image, I be­helde him in the Maiestie of an Angell, fayre, young, lustie, and in euery proportion like my selfe, and nothing at all, like his meagre Cripple Image: So that I was in doubt of being transformed out of my selfe, till with a méeke voice, he sayd: Be not dismayed, I am thy Maister, Inganno, and am come to bestowe my blessings vpon the good Appenine dames, that for my sake cherish you my Disciples: But with an especiall Affection, I will visite the good Dame Farina: And for that her Feminine weaknes can not indure my heauenly presence, I will many times borrow thy earthly shape: and in my name go salute Farina, and shew her that this night, in that her Husband is from home, I meane to visite her: will her to leaue open the Doores, because I pur­pose to come as Fryer Inganno, and not as Saint Fraun­ces.

This is his message, therefore as I began, I end:Ignorance hea­reth euery tale as trueth. bles­sed art thou among the Appenine countrie Dames: The poore woman, as apparant as this trecherie was, had not the power to mistrust,Flattery eate [...] the bread o [...] the Iust. but gaue the Frier a good almes for his newes, and sayd she would attend Saint Francis blessed will.

Away goeth the Fryer, with a light heart, and a heauy Cowle: but God, to punish his lewd intent, and to preserue her from sinning through ignorance, so tickled her heart with ioy of this blessing at hand,A note of little secresie in a woman. as to welcome Saint Fran­ces she must néedes haue y^e Belles rung: The Priest of the Parish hearing the cause, smelt out the Fryers cunning, and was glad to take one of those Beggers in a Pitfal,Enuy setteth hatred be­tween fellowes of euery voca­tion. that with glorious lyes had robbed him of his Parishioners deuoti­ons, and withall, perswaded her with such reasons, as she was fully resolued of the Friers deceit: And to bee auen­ged, by the Parsons direction, she caused Leayda to lye in her Bed, a Mayde so ougly, sluttish and deformed, as through the [Page]Parish, she was called the Furie of Lothsomenesse. A­bout ten of the clocke, finding the doores open, Frier In­ganno mounts into Farinaes Chamber, and without light or leaue,An vnwel­come salutatiō leapes into her bed: but he had not blessed Leay­daes lippes, before the Priest, Farina, and others entered with Taper and Torch-light, singing Salue Sancte Francis­ce: And knéeling about the Bedsides, sung Sancte Francisce ora pro nobis.

The poore Fryer,Pleasure in o­thers increaseth sorrow in the afflicted. like a Foxe in a grin, being both in­trapt, and imbrast by a Hag of hel, cryed from his heart: ‘A dolore inferni, libera me Domine.’

After the Priest and the rest of the company, were wea­ry of laughing, and the Fryer almost dead with wéeping: It is an office of charitie (quoth the Priest) to put Saint Frances againe in his Toombe: for it is so long since he was in the world,Enuy & rude people are not pacified with prayers of the afflicted. that he hath forgot the way back into heauen.

The Fryer leering like the thiefe that hung on the left side of Christ, tooke all with patience: for well hée wist, Prayer booted not.

Well, for that night, they bound and stript him, like a dead Coarse:Rude people, extreme reuen­gers. and in stead of swéete Flowers, laid him in a bundle of Nettles.

The next morning the rude countrie people (who in re­uenge are without ciuilitie or order) cruelly scourged the poore Frier. And (setting him the forenoone naked in the Sunne) anointed his body with honey: so that the Hornets, Wasps and Flyes, tormented him with the paynes of hell.

In the afternoone, with a hundred Torches, Tapers, and other waxen lights, this rustick multitude caried se­cond Saint Frances vnto his Toombe:The best way to win the communalty. and had not other Fryers vsed milde and plawsible requests, in his behalfe, they would surely haue buried him aliue: for threatning, in­creaseth a tumult: whē faire words, may peraduēture stay it.

The poore Fryer discharged from the hands of these vn­gentle people, learned afterwardes to be more warie: but for al this punishmēt was nothing the honester. For among men of his Habit, remayneth an opinion, that the faultes, which the Worlde séeth not, God punisheth not.

After the company had well laughed at Fryer Ingannoes penance, Quéene Aurelia asked master Doctor, the Archde­tracter of Women, how many such stories he had read of the religious Dames?

None (quoth he) that hath béen so sorely punished, but of a number that haue as highly trespassed.

What (quoth Helena Dulce) by such subtil practises?Men offend subtilly, & wo­men simply.

No (quoth the Doctor) but through simple affection.

Well (quoth Aluiso Vechio) their euils are written in their foreheads,Womens euils are writ in their foreheads. that slanderous mens tongues may reade and inlarge them. And your great euils are buried in the bottome of your heartes, that vnlesse the Diuel meane to shame you, the world knoweth not how to blame you.Mens faults lie hid in their hearts.

This was the Gentlewomens day, wherefore the ci­uill Gentlemen would not offer to crosse them much: so that following their aduantage,A ciuil curtesie in a Gentlemā. Madame (quoth Isabella) with your fauour and patience, I will reporte an Historie, that open such a haynous trecherie done by a man as shal take away all possibility from a woman to commit so impious an Act.

Quéene Aurelia willed her to procéede, and the whole cō ­pany séemed to be attentiue: whereupon Isabella reported as followeth.

The rare History of Promos and Cassandra, reported by Madame Isabella.

AT what time Coruinus, the scourge of the Turkes,This history for rarenes thereof is liuely set out in a Comedy, by the reporter of the whole worke, but yet neuer presented vpon stage. rayg­ned as King of Bohemia, for to well gouerne the Cities of his Realme, he sent diuers worthy Magistrates: Among the rest, he gaue the Lord Promos the Lieutenantship of Iu­lio: who in the beginning of his gouerment, purged y^e Citie of many auncient vices, and seuerely punished new offen­ders.

In this Citie there was an olde custome (by the suffe­ring of some Magistrates growen out of vse) that what man soeuer committed Adultery, should lose his head:A hard lawe for inconti­nent persons. & the wo­mā offender shuld euer after be infamously noted by y^e wea­ring [Page]of some disguised apparell: For the man was helde to be the greatest offender, and therefore had the seuerest pu­nishment.

Lord Promos with a rough execution, reuiued this Sta­tute, and in the highest degrée of iniurie, brake it himselfe, as shall appeare by the sequell of Andrugioes aduentures.

This Andrugio by the yéelding fauour of fayre Polina, trespassed against this ordinance, who through enuie, was accused, & by Lorde Promos condemned to suffer execution.

The wofull Cassandra Andrugios Sister, prostrates her self at Lord Promos féete, and with more teares then words, thus pleaded for her brothers life.

Most noble Lord, and worthy Iudge, vouchsafed, me the fauour to speake, whose case is so desperate, as vnlesse you beholde mée with the eyes of mercie, the frayle trespasse of condemned Andrugio my Brother will be the death of sor­rowfull Cassandra, his innocent Sister I wil not presume, to excuse his offence, or reproch the Law of rigor: for in the generall construction,Lawe adiudg­eth, by the generall offēce hée hath done most euill, and the Law hath iudged but what is right: But (reuerent Iudge, par­don that necessitie maketh me here tell, that your wisdome already knoweth.) The most Soueraigne Iustice is crow­ned with Laurell, although she be girt with a Sword: And this priuiledge she giueth vnto her Administrators: that they shall mitigate the seueritie of the Law,Iustice is more renowmed by lenitie, then seueritie. according to the qualitie of the offence. Then, that Iustice be not rob­bed of her gratious pittie, listen good Lord Promos, to the nature of my Brothers offence, and his able meanes to re­payre the iniurie. He hath defiled no nuptiall Beb, the stain whereof dishonoureth the guiltlesse Husband: He hath committed no violent Rape. In which Act the iniured maid can haue no amends. But with yéelding consent of his Mi­stresse, Andrugio hath onely sinned through Loue, and ne­uer ment but with Mariage to make amendes.

I humbly beséech you to accept his satisfaction,A good cause to moue pittie. and by this Example you shal be as much beloued for your clemen­cie, as feared for your seueritie. Andrugio shalbe well war­ned, and he with his Sister wofull Cassandra, shall euer re­maine [Page]your Lordships true Seruants.

Promos eares were not so attentiue to heare Cassandras ruethful tale, as his eyes were settled to regarde her excel­lent Beauty. And Loue,Loue fauou­reth no degree that was appoynted Headsman of Andrugio, became nowe the Soueraigne of his Iudges thought. But because he would séeme to bridle his passions he answered: fayre Damsel, haue patience, you importune me with an impossibilitie: he is condemned by Lawe, then without iniurie to Lawe, he cannot be saued.Princes prero­gatiues are a­boue Law.

Princes and their Deputies Prerogatiues (quoth shée) are aboue the Lawe. Besides Law, truelie construed, is but the amends of iniurie: and where the fault may be valued, and amends had,The true intét of the Law. the breach of the law is sufficiently repayred.

Quoth Lord Promos, your passions mooueth more then your proofes: and for your sake, I will repréeue Andrugio, A good turne vpon an euill cause. and studie how to doe you ease, without apparant breach of Law.

Cassandra recomforted,Authority in euil Magi­strates is a scourge vnto the good. with humble thankes recei­ued his fauour, and in great hast goeth to participate this hope, with her dying Brother: But oh that Authoritie should haue power to make the vertuous to doe amisse, as well as through correction to inforce the vicious to fall vnto goodnesse.

Promos is a witnes of this priuiledge, who not able to subdue his incontinent loue, and withall, resolued that Cas­sandra would neuer be ouercome with fayre wordes,A monstrous request. large promises, or rich rewards: demaunded the spoyle of her Vir­ginitie, for raunsome of her Brothers libertie.Vnlesse they be reprobate, good example may reforme the wicked.

Cassandra imagined at the first, that Lord Promos, vsed this spéech but to trie her behauiour: Answered him so wise­ly, as if he had not béen the Riuall of vertue, he could not but haue suppressed his lewde Affection, and haue subscribed to her iust petition: But to leaue circumstances, Promos was fiered with a dicious desire, which must be quenched with Cassandraes yéelding loue, or Andrugio must die.

Cassandra moued with a chast disdaine, departed with the resolution rather to dye her selfe then to stayne her ho­nour: [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page]And with this heauie newes, gréeted her condemned Brother: poore man, alas, what should hee doe? Life was swéet: but to be redéemed with his sisters Infamie, could not but be alwayes vnsauerie.

To perswade her to consent, was vnnaturall: to yéelde to death was more grieuous.

To choose the least of these euils,A hard choice of two euils. was difficult: to stu­die long was dangerous.

Fayne would he liue, but shame closed his mouth when he attempted to perswade his Sister.

But Necessitie, that mastreth both shame & feare, brake a passage for his imprisoned intent.

Swéete Cassandra (quoth he) that men loue, is vsual, but to subdue affection, is impossible: and so thorny are the moti­ons of incontinent desire,The force of necessitie. as to finde ease, the tongue is on­ly occupied to perswade. The purse is euer open to entice, and where neither words nor Giftes can corrupt (with the mighty) force shall constraine,The force of Loue. or dispight auenge. That Promos doe loue is but iust, thy beauty commaunds him. That Promos be refused is more iust, because consent is thy Shame.

Thou mayst refuse and liue: but hée being reiected, I die: For wanting his will in thée, he will wreake his téene on me.

This is my hard estate: My life lyeth in thy Infamie, and thy honour in my death. Which of these euilles be least, I leaue for thée to iudge.

The wofull Cassandra answered,A hard fortune that death was the least, whose darte we cannot shunne, when Honour in deaths despight outliueth time.

It is true (quoth Andrugio) but thy trespasse will be in the least degrée of blame:Death is to bee preferred be­fore dishonou­rable life. For, in forced faultes, Iustice sayth, there is no intent of euill.

Oh Andrugio (quoth she) intent is now adayes little considered: thou art not condemned by y^e intent, but by the strickt word of the Law:The vene­mous nature of Enuy. so shal my cryme be reproched, and the forced cause passe vnexcused: and such is the venome of Enuy, one euil déede shal disgrace tenne good turnes: and in [Page]this yéelding, so shall I be valued: Enuy, Disdayne, Spight,The vertuous are assured of many enemies, and incertaine of any frendes. Malice, Slaunder, and many moe furies will endeuour to shame me, and the meanest vertue will blush to help to sup­port my honor: so that I sée no liberty for thée but death, nor no ease for me but to hasten my end.

O yes (quoth Andrugio) for if this offence be knowne, thy fame wil be enlarged, because it will likewise be knowne,A cause that may excuse the breach of ho­nour. that thou receiuedst dishonr to giue thy brother life: If it be seceret, thy conscience will be without scruple of guiltinesse. Thus, knowne, or vnknowen, thou shalt be deflowred, but not dishonested, and for amends we both shall liue.

This further hope remayneth, that as the Gilliflower both pleaseth the eye and f [...]edeth the sence: euen so the ver­tue of thy chast behauiour may so grace thy beauty,A faint hope. as Pro­mos filthy lust, may be turned into faythfull loue: and so moue him to salue thy honour in making thée his wife. Or for conscience, for beare to doe so heynous an iniurie.

Soueraigne Madame, and you fayre Gentlewomen, (quoth Isabella) I intreate you in Cassandraes behalfe, these reasons well weyed, to iudge her yéelding, a constraynt, and no consent: who weary of her owne life, and tender ouer her brothers, with teares of her louely eyes, bathed his chéekes, with this comfortable sentence.

The sharpe incounters betwéene life and death so occu­pied Andrugioes sences, that his tongue had not the vertue to bid her farewel. To gréeue you with the hearing of Cassan­draes secret playnts, were an iniurie, vertuous Ladies, for they concluded with their good Fortune, and euerlasting fame: But for that her offence grew neither of frayltie,A good con­sideration in Cassandra. frée will, or any motion of a woman, but by the méere inforce­ment of a man, because she would not stayne the modest wéedes of her kinde, she attyred her felfe in the habite of a Page, and with the bashfull grace of a pure Virgine, she pre­sented wicked Promos Andrugioes precious ransome.

This diuel, in humane shape, more vicious then Helio­gabalus [Page]of Rome, A damnable offence. and withall as cruell as Denis of Sycil, re­ceiued this Iewell with a thousand protestations of fa­uour. But what should I say? In the beginning of his loue, Promos was Metamorphosed into Priapus: and of a Féende what may we expect, but vengeance heaped vpon villany? And therefore let it not séem straunge, y^e after this Hel hoūd had dishonored Cassandra he sent his warrant to the Gayler priuily, to execute Andrugio, & with his head crowned with these two Briefes,A villainous ingratitude. in Promos name to present Cassandra.

This was his Charge, whose cursed will had béen ex­ecuted, had not God by an especial prouidence, at the houre of his Death,An especiall prouidence of God. possessed Andugio with the vertues of the two braue Romanes, Marcus Crassus, and Marius, the one of which, by the force of his tongue, and the other by the mo­tions of his eyes, caused she Axe to fal out of the Headsmans hand, and mollified his cruel minde.

With like compassion the Gayler (in hearing Andrugi­oes hard aduenture) left his resolution: And vpon a solemne oath, to liue vnknowen, yea to his deare Sister, hee gaue him life, and in the dead of the night, betooke him to God, and to good fortune:A signe of an honest nature. which done, this good Gayler tooke the head of a young man new executed, who some what resem­bled Andrugio: and according to leawd Promos commaun­dement made a present thereof to Cassandra. How vnwel­come this Present was,An vnwelcom present. the testimonie of her former sor­rowes some what discouer: but to giue her present passion a true grace, were the talke of Prometheus, or such a one as hath had experience of the anguishes of hel.

O quoth she, swéete Andrugio, whether shall I first la­ment thy death, exclayme of Promos iniurie, or bemone my owne estate, depriued of honour? and which is worse, can­not die, but by the violence of my owne handes. Alas, the least of these griefes are too heauy a burden for a man, then all ioyned in one poore womans heart, cannot bee eased but by death: and to be auenged of iniurious Fortune, I will foorth with cut my Fillet of life. But so shall Promos lewd­nesse [Page]escape vnpunished: what remedie? I am not of power to reuenge: to complaine, I expresse my owne infamie, but withall, proclaime his villanie: and to heare his lewdenes reproued, would take away the bitternesse of my death. I will goe vnto the king, who is iust and mercifull, he shall heare the ruthfull euents of Promos Tiranny: and to giue him example of vengeance, I will seale my complaints with my déerest blood.

Continuing this determination, Cassandra buried her imagined brothers head, and with spéede iornyed vnto king Coruinus Court: before whose presence when she arriued, her mourning Attire, but especially her modest countenāce moued him to beholde her with an especiall regarde.

Cassandra (vpon the graunt of audience) with her eyes ouercharged with teares,A mischeefe wel preuented. reported the already discoursed ac­cidents, with such an apparance of gréefe, as the King and his Attendants were astonied to heare her: and sure had she not béen happily preuented, she had concluded her determi­nation, with chaste Lucretias destinie.A noble fa­uour. The King comfor­ted her with many gratious wordes, and promised to take such order, that (although he could not be reuiued) her Bro­thers death, should fully be reuenged, and her crased honour repaired, without blemish of her former reputation.

Cassandra vpon these comfortable words, a little succou­red her afflicted hart, with patience attended the Iustice of the King: who with a chosen companie, made a Progresse to Iulio, and entred the Towne with a semblance of great fa­nour towards Promos: A necessary pollicy. by that colour, to learne what other corrupt Magistrates ruled in this Cittie: for well he knew that Birdes of a feather would flie together, and wicked men would ioyne in affection, to boulster eche others euill.

After this gratious King had by héedfull intelligence vn­derstoode the factions of the people, vnlooked for of the Magistrates, he caused a proclamation to be published: in which was a clause, that if any person could charge any Magistrate or Officer with any notable or hainous offence,A royall grace. Treason, Murder, Rape, Sedition, or with any such notori­ous Crime: where they were the Iudges of the multitude, [Page]he would himselfe be the Iudge of them, and doe iustice vnto the meanest.The clamors of the poore, and the consci­ences of the rich, like Hell. Sorrowe and Shame, the at­tendants of Cassandra.

Vpon this Proclamation it was a hell to heare the excla­mations of the poore, and the festered consciences of the rich appéered as loathsome as the Riuer of Stix.

Among many that complained and receiued iudgement of comfort, Cassandras Processe was presented, who lead be­twéene sorrow and shame, accused Promos to his face.

The euidence was so plaine, as the horrour of a guiltie conscience reaued Promos of all motions of excuse: so that holding vp his hand,An vnusuall place for a Iudge. amongst the worst degrée of théeues, the little hope that was left, moued him to confesse y^e crime, and with repentance to sue for mercy.

O (quoth the King) such especiall mercy were tiranny to a common wealth.A necessary re­garde in a Prince. No Promos no, Hoc facias alteri, quod tibi vis fieri. You shall be measured with the grace you be­stowed on Andrugio.

O God (quoth he) if men durst barke as dogges, many a Iudge in the worlde would be bewrayed for a théefe: It be­houeth a Prince to know to whom he committeth Authori­tie, least the Swoord of Iustice, appointed to chasten the lewde,Princes beares the blame of euill Officers extortion. wound the good: and where good subiects are wron­ged, euill Officers receiue the the benefit, and their Soue­raignes beareth the blame.

Well,A iust iudge­ment. wicked Promos, to scourge thy impious offences, I héere giue sentence, that thou foorth with marry Cassan­dia, to repaire her honour by thée violated, and that the next day thou lose thy head, to make satisfaction for her Brothers death.

This iust iudgement of the good king, in the first point, was foorth with executed:The good pro­rect the lewde. But sacred is the authoritie, that the vertues of the good are a Shielde vnto the lewde. So swéete Cassandra, who (simply) by vertue ouercame y^e spight of Fortune:The duetie of a wife, truely shewen. in this mariage was charged with a new as­sault of sorrow, and preferring the dutie of a wife, before the naturall zeale of a Sister, where she before prosecuted the reuenge of her brothers death, she now was an humble su­ter to the King for her Husbands life.

The gracious King sought to appease her with good words, but he could not doo her this priuate fauour,The common weale, is to be regarded be­fore priuate honour. without iniurie vnto the publike weale: for though (quoth he) your sute be iust, and the bounden duety of a wife, yet I in fulfil­ling the same, should do vniustly, and (generally) iniure my Subiects: and therefore good Gentlewoman haue patience, and no doubt vertue in the end will giue you power ouer all your affections.

There was no remedy, Cassandra must departe, cut of hope to obtaine her sute.Siue bonum. siue malum, Fama est. But as the experience is in dayly vse, the dooings of Princes post through the world on Pega­sus back: And as their actions are good or badde, so is their same. With the like spéede, the Kings iustice, and Promos execution was spread abroad: and by the tung of a Clowne was blowen into Andrugios eares, who till then liued like an Outlawe in the Desart woods.

But vpon these newes, couertly in the habite of an Her­mit,Good moti­ons, proceede frō the soule, and euill from the flesh. by the diuine motion of the Soule, who directs vs in things that be good, and the Flesh in actions that be euill: Andrugio goes to sée the Death of his Capitall enemy: But on the other parte, regarding the sorrow of his sister, he wi­shed him life as a fréend.

To conclude, as well to giue terrour to the lewd, as com­fort to his good subiects, the King (personally) came to sée the execution of Promos: who, garded with Officers, and strēg­thened with the comfortable perswasions of his Ghostly fa­thers: Among whom Andrugio was, méekely offered his life, as a satisfaction for his offences,A gratefull parte. which were many more then the Law tooke knowledge of, and yet to say the truth, such was his Repentance, as the multitude did both for giue and pittie him: yea, the King wondred that his life was go­uerned with no more vertue, considering the grace he shew­ed at his death.

Andrugio beholding this ruthfull Spectackle, was so ouercome with loue towards his Sister, as to giue her comfort, he franckly consented a new to emperill his own life: And followinge this Resolution, in his Hermits wéede, vpon his knées, hee humblye desired the Kinge [Page]to speake: The King (graciously) graunted him Audience. Whereupon (quoth he) regarded Soueraigne, if Lawe may (possibly be satistied) Promos true Repentance meri­teth pardon.

Good Father (quoth the King) he cannot liue,Murther as­keth death, and no other satisfaction. and the law satistied, vnlesse (by miracle) Andrugio be reuiued.

Then (quoth the Hermite) if Andrugio liue, the law is sa­tissied, and Promos discharged.

I (quoth the King) if your praier can reuiue the one, my mercie shall acquit the other.

I humbly thank your Maiestie (quoth Andrugio) and dis­conering himselfe, shewed the preuidence of God, and the meane of his escape: and tendring his Sisters comfort a­boue his owne safetie, he prostrated him selfe at his Maie­sties féete, humbly to obey the sentence of his pleasure. The King vpon the report of this strange aduenture,Princes are bound to their word after good deliberation, pardoned Promos, to kéep his word, and with­all, holding an opinion, that it was more beneficiall for the Citizens,Of two, the least euill is least dange­rous. to be ruled by their olde euill Gouernour new re­formed, then, to aduenture vpon a newe, whose behaui­ours were vnknowne: And to perfect Cassandras ioye, he pardoned her brother Andrugio, with condition, that he should marrie Polina. Thus, from betwéene the téeth of danger, euery partie was preserued, and in the end establi­shed in their harts desire.

Madame (quoth Soranso) your good conclusion hath like­wise preserued vs from a great danger,Ruthfull tales, raiseth re­morce in the hearers. for had you ended with the sorrow you began, we had béen al like to haue béen drowned in teares.

Indéed (quoth Katharina Trista) you men haue had cause sufficient of sorrowe, by hearing your kinde reproched with such monstrous euils:By example of euill, the euill are feared. By example of the good, the good are strengthened. and we women frée passage to lament in beholding none but crosse fortunes to succéed the good in­deuours of a vertuous Lady.

It is true (quoth Fabritio) but to participate of their ioye, we men haue learned out of Promos example of euill, for feare of his like punishment of euill, to doo well: and you women by example of Polinas vice, and Cassandras ver­tue, [Page]are both warned and incouraged to weldooing.

Indéede (quoth Quéene Aurelia) there are many Morall precepts in either Historie to be considered:Good order is to be kept a­mong such as haue beene late sick. which I hope the company haue so regarded, as there néedeth no repetiti­tion And further, because I will not be too bolde of the vic­tory, ouer my late distemperature: we will héere end: And therewith she arose, and retired into her Chamber: with charge that the company should attend her in the same place vntill Supper, who obeying, intertained time euery one with their speciall fancy.

The question that arose at Supper vpon the fourth daies exercise.

MAny prettie nippes, passed betwéene the retyred Com­pany, this night at Supper, as well on the Gentlewo­mens parte, as of the Gentlemens, insomuch as presu­ming vpon this Daies honour (when the Table was readie to be taken away)

Aluisa Vechio tooke vpon her to maintaine a woman to be a creature euery way, as excellent and perfect as man.Comparison breedeth con­tention. For naturall shape (quoth she) they are more beautifull, of a bet­ter temperature, and complection then men. In valiant ex­ploytes, what difference was there betwéen Semiramis and her Husband Ninus? betwéene the Amazon women and A­lexander. For constancie of minde,Excellent vertues in women did not Loadice imbrace death? with lesse feare then Mithridates her Husband? Asdru­balles Wife, then Asdruball himselfe? And what man hath kept a constant resolution of death, so long as Lucretia. In Vertues, you men that read Histories and Cronicles of all ages, shall finde women renowmed for learning, gouern­ment, and pollicie. In Mecanicall Artes, there are Women likewise experienced. In the vertue of Diuining, what man hath come néere the Sibils? To be short, what man hath béen so perfect in any vertue, but histories make mention of a wo­man as perfect?

Yea (quoth Dondolo) but there be so fewe of these wo­men,Cauillers ne­uer answere directly. as an easie wit may remember them.

But it will cumber your tung to report them, quoth Ka­tharina Trista.

The other Gentlemen although they were willing to giue place vnto the Gentlewomen in small matters,A disgrace in honour, a Gentleman may not beare with. yet this comparison of equall soueraignty, nettled them a little. In as much, as Soranso answered, Madame Aluisa, you haue made a bolde comparison, and but a bare proofe: Where you vaunte to be more excellent in shape and more delicate in substance then men.

It is an ouer ruled question, that Women receiue perfec­tion by Men,Aristotles pro­blemes. and Men imperfection by Women: then by how much the vertue is of more emprise, that is simply of it selfe, then that which is compound of an other: by so far we excéede you in this perfection.

Your honour of valiātnes died with your examples, and although there hath béen Women learned, and experienced in Mecanicall craftes,Extraordinary things, are not to be compa­red with ordi­nary. yet to heare a Woman plead at the Barre, preach in a Pulpit, or to sée her builde a house, is a wonder and no example in vse. How short your diuining Sybels come of the credit of the Prophets in the olde Testa­ment, is no question disputable:Life is preci­ous. For your constancie at death, you know not how precious life is, which maketh you rash and not constant: and in truth what you haue fro­wardly determined, you will not be forbidden. As she that had her Tung cut, for calling of her husband Théefe, would yet notwithstanding, make the signe of the gallows.

Well sir (quoth Quéene Aurelia) Epicarias obstinacy,Epicaria in the trembling pas, sage of death, was constant. who endured to be rent in péeces, before she would confesse the conspiracy against Nero, would haue béene holden for a ver­tue of staidenesse in a man.

And what say you of Leena, PLIN. Lib. 34. Cap. 2. that bit off her tung, and spit it in the Tirant Hippias face, because she would not bewray a conspiracy against him.

Madame (with your fauour, quoth y^e Doctor) had she not had this foresight,An enuious Suggestion. it had béen like the Athenians should haue béene driuen to haue made a brazen bell, as a Monument of her talk: rather thē a tungles Liōnes, as they did in honour of her silence, for had she not mistrusted her imperfection, [Page]she would neuer haue committed that tiranny vpon her self.

Had her tung béene venomed with your mallice, it is like (quoth Quéene Aurelia) that the Athenians had verified your slaunderous opinion: herewith she looked a skawse, vpon her fauoured seruants, as who would say, I check the omis­sion of your dutie, in not defending of my right. Vpon which warning, and especially, for the excellencie of this sex,A man may praise a wo­man without reproching a man. quoth Ismarito, a man may doo iustice vnto an other, without iniury to himselfe: and sure without y^e reproche of men, a man may commēd y^e excellencie of women: in whose behalf (although I wil not cōdemne Sir Soransos reasons) yet in my opinion, he erred in the first Article, where he toucheth the perfection of Men, and the imperfection of Women: for neither of them­selues are perfect,Chaste talke ought especi­ally to be vsed in the presence of women. Aris. Prob. nor may haue essentiall substance with­out the other: But to dispute of this secret in nature at large, were vnpleasing to their chast eares, and bréefey too mistical for their vnderstandings. But who so is so curious in search, let him read y^t Philosophers probleames, with an vnpartiall iudgement, and he shal finde thē in substance euery way as perfect as meu: and in y^t opinion of the eye,The quality, and not the quantity com­mends. of al y^t sences who is y^e most perfect iudge, they far excel man in purenes of com­plection: where exception is taken to y^e few in number, of fin­gulerly wel qualified women, I affirme y^t it is not the quā ­tity, but the quality y^t commends: a little salt relisheth more then a great deale of sugar, Iudith with her owne hands, at­chiued a more honorable conquest, then all the Cilisions be­sides.

Alexandra y^e wife of Alexander king of y^e Iewes, (whē y^e vnci­uill multitude were ready for his tiranny) to make y^e intrails of dogs, a sepulture for his dead body, yea & to be further auē ­ged, to murther his two Sonnes: by her swéet behauiour so mollified their cruell harts, as loosing their resolutions, they gaue her husband an honorable burial; & prostrated thēselues at her childrens féete: which pacification y^e strength nor wis­dom of her counsel could not obtain.Eua. By what instrumēt did God first show y^e vigor of his vēgance? by a woman. And by what instrumēt did he show y^e vertue of his mercy?Our Lady. by a wo­man. [Page]Soueraigne vertue is Femenine, and (I blush to tel it) Yrkesome Vice is Masculine. The Ladies laughed out­right, to heare Ismaritos difference. But Soranso halfe angry answered, that if Ismaritos countrymen were of his minde, they might be ashamed that they were so effeminate.

Pardon me,Where an in­iury in words, may be reuen­ged in words, a Gentleman is not bound to his swoord. quoth Ismarito, it is their commendation to yéelde vnto women, and to conquer men.

Tush, tush (quoth Bargetto) to nip himselfe by the nose, Ismarito is to be pardoned, for his Captaine S. George, is shackled in a womans garter.

It is true (quoth Ismarito) but thus fettered, he hath ma­ny times chased S. Michael to his Mount.

Fabritio fearing that these crosses would turne to the Deuils blessing,Discreete stan­ders by pacifi­eth contenti­ons. studied how to accorde this contention, and with that intent (quoth he) Ismarito, you haue well deserued to kisse these Ladies hands, for your honourable commen­dation of their sexe:Vertue and vice, both Fe­minine and Mesculine. But where you say Vertue is the Fe­minine, and vice the Masculine, both men and women are vnderstoode in either. The olde Diuines, tooke Vertue to be God, and Vice the Diuell, and either to be both Feminine and Masculine. Orpheus saide, that Iupiter and Pluto were both Male and Female. It is also read in Scripture: That God fashioned both man and woman to his owne likenes. Moreouer this word Homo, signifieth both kindes: so that since Man and Woman, are not simply of themselues, but compounded one of an other, I blame this vnnaturall con­tention, for excellencie, for neither can obtaine Soueraigne victorie, without dooing iniury to themselues. The head a­mong some is taken for the Man,Note. and the hart for the wo­man, (for both are of an indifferent gender) and al the other members indifferently at their commandement.

Quéene Aurelia, with a smiling countenance, answered that she was content, that a Man should gouerne as y^e head, and women direct as the hart, and because we will not doo iniury vnto our naturall vertue of Modesty, we will giue place to you,Modesty an naturall vertue in a woman. in contention for Soueraignties, and binde you to serue vs for our vertues, and therewithall in rising, she broke of this controuersie.

After Supper, there was a little time bestowed in hea­ring of swéete musicke, but for that Quéene Aureliaes late distemperature grew of ouer watching: the company this night went vnto their lodging in a good houre.

THe last nights good houre of repose, was the cause of the companies this dayes early rising: who by nine of the clock entered the great Chamber, ar­med for any lawdable exercise. And af­ter an accustomed dutie of salutation discharged, euery man bethought him­selfe of some pleasing matter, to entertayne the present time. Soranso & Ismarito were seuered from the rest of the cō ­pany, vpon priuate discourse: which being ended, Soranso casting his eye aside, beheld in the hangings, the picture of Ixion, herdled to his tormenting whéele. Sée yonder,The Fable of Ixion. quoth he, the worthy scourge of Ambition, and withall reported the Fable, of his presumptuous making of loue to Iuno.

Nay, quoth Ismarito, Ixion is rather the example of Vayne-glorie punished:To be proud in vertues, is commendable. for Iupiter so well allowed of Ixions hie minde (in that he represented his Image) as hée raysed him from Earth to Heauen, and because he should not perish in his affection, he satisfied his desire with the embracement of a counterfeit Iuno, The scourge of vainglory. and so sent him backe vnto the Earth: where vaine glorious Ixion Proclaymed, that he was the Minion of Iuno, and had Acteoned Iupiter: for which arrogancie, Iupiter threw him to hell, with this pictured vengeance.

Questionlesse, quoth Soranso, this imagination of the Heathen Poet, could not but be the trauell of a diuine spirit, it exposeth such néedfull matter, for Christians to contem­plate of.

You néede not doubt of your opinion,The soule tra­uaileth to bring forth diuine monuments in the heathen. quoth Ismarito, for after God had created Adam after his owne Image, he scattered the séede of Adam vpon the face of the whole world, and wheresoeuer the essentiall forme of Adam was, there was also the Image of God, which in the most barba­rous & Heathen creature, laboureth to bring out hie and ex­cellent things.

I beséech you, quoth Soranso, to enlarge this discourse. I am not so simple to beléeue that we are like the Image of God in our outward shape: yet my knowledge is not per­fect, in what vertues we resemble the Image of God.

Referring you,A discreete ex­ordium, for young men that argue. for your better knowledge, to grauer iudgements (quoth Ismarito) I will only to satisfie your re­quest, say what I haue read, and what in my opinion, stan­deth with reason.

In our exterior body, to say we resemble God, were a grose ignorance:The excellency of man throgh the vertue of the soule. but in that our soule is closed within our body, and giueth life, and mouing, to the whole body: it is no absurdity to conclude the lesse within the greater, to shewe how the soule resembleth God: who consisteth in a Trinitie. Notwithstanding she is but one; yet she comprehendeth in her thrée dignities, to wit, Intendment, Wit, and Memorie, And as the sonne is ingenered of the Father,Three dignities of the soule. and the holy Ghost procéedeth from both: euen so Will is ingendered of Intendment, and Memorie procéedeth from both: and as the thrée persons of the Trinitie, are but one GOD, so the thrée powers of the soule, are but one soule: and in that man is created in this sort,Man is formed straight, be­cause he should behold heauen and contem­plate on great matters. according to the Image of God, because he should resemble his creator in excellencie, hee is formed straight and not curbed: to behold the earth, not thereby to shew a difference betwéene him and other brute Beastes, but only because he should rayse his spirite, and heaue his eyes to heauen, his originall, to contemplate of diuine and durable thinges, and not of earthly and such as perishe. [Page]And sure the Monuments, that to this day renowme heathē Alexander, Iulius Caesar, Scipio, Haniball, and many other stout warriours, Plato, Pythagoras, Socrates, Solon, and ma­ny thousand graue Philosophers, were the exercises of the soule, who in her function is alwayes occupied, to make men shine like Angels. And doubtlesse the exploits of man would be wonderfull, and glorious,Three euils or defects of the body. were not the passages of the thrée powers of the soule, Intendment, Will, and Memorie, stopped with these thrée euils or defects of the body: Igno­rance, of that which is good; Couetousnes, of that which is euil; and the Infirmitie and languor of the body. These be the euils that eclipse the excellencie of many, who other wise would appeare more glorious then the Sunne, Moone, Starres, and Christall Firmament, into whose motions, reuolutions, and influences, his knowledge foreséeth: or the earth with all her fayre furniture which he gouerneth, and therefore he is called Microcosmos, for that in excellencie, he egalleth the beauty of the whole worlde.

Sir, quoth Soranso, you haue enchaunted my eares with such a pleasing regarde, as if you were as tedious in dis­course, as I would be attentiue in hearing, we should both lose our dinners, without any great repining: but in ad­nantage I beséech you, what may bee the remedie of these thrée euils, which thus obscure the excellencie of man?

Thrée soueraigne remedies, quoth Ismarito, to witte,Three remedies against the 3. euils of the bo­dy. Wisedome, Vertue, and Necessitie, which to chase the other thrée euils, are thus ordered: Wisdome against Ignorance, Vertue against Vice, and Necessitie agaynst Infirmitie. Wisdome is to be vnderstoode according to the condition of the things wherein we be ignorant. Vertue is an habite of the soule, which without great difficultie cannot be shaken out of his place and subiect: By Necessitie, The original of al Artes and Sciences. absolutely is in­tended, a supplie against those wants, with which Infirmity hath charged vs, as if we be lame, to haue horse to ride: if we be sicke, to haue medicine: if our bodies be weake, to haue nourishing meates, &c. And by these thrée remedies, all Artes and Disciplines haue béene inuented, to acquire Wisdome: Theorique, which is contemplatiue,Theorique. and consists [Page]in these thrée partes,Practise. Theologie, Phisicke, and Mathema­tique, was found for Vertue. Practise, which is actiue, and deuided,Mechanichall craftes. into Solitarie, Priuate, and Publike, was put in vse. And for Necessitie, all Mecanicall craftes were inuented. These thrée vertues if we imbrace them, will chase the o­ther thrée both out of our body, soule and remembrance. You haue giuen me a short swéete reason quoth Soranso. And a long remēbrance of my weak vnderstanding quoth Ismarito: but for that I haue made this Sermon, vpon your importu­nitie, your courtesie I hope will pardon me, as well as your wisedome will correct my errours.

I had thought Ceremonies had béen in disgrace,Curtesie is commēdable, but superflu­ous sauours of flatterie. among you Englishmen, quoth Soranso: but I finde you superstiti­ous in courtesie, and therefore will take no example by you: but let it suffice, I am your friend, and will deserue this fa­uour, in any resonable seruice.

By this time, Dinner was ready to bée set vpon the Boorde, and Quéene Aurelia came agayne vnto the open view, whose presence was as welcome vnto the generall company, as the cleare Sunne (after rough stormes) to the wether-wearied Saylour. After she had acquited the cour­teous salutations of the whole troup, she first took her place, & then the rest as they pleased, or were accustomed. At this Dinner there passed much pleasant Table talke, imperti­nent for this reporte: which being done, at the accustomed houre, Quéene Aurelia sent for the chosen cōpany, who pla­ced in y^e drawing chamber: the Eunuch knowing his charge, tuned his Lute, and sung this following Sonet.

Whoso inuented this Sonet, quoth Quéene Aurelia, de­serueth to be well fauoured of his Mistresse, in that hee kept her so carefully in his bosome.

Nay quoth Dondolo, if his eyes were so subtil, as absent, he could sée her behauiour, his affection were more dange­rous then his seruice necessary.

We giue you to know, quoth Isabella, that we wey not though our Husbands, a hundred miles off, know our beha­uiours at home.

I thinke so, quoth the playne Doctor, for so farre off they may (sigh at their owne mischance, but) not chasten your amisse. Perchance they should not be charged with such iniurie, as this company should be (quoth Maria Belochi) if we would offer to answere your enuious suggestions.

Ladies I speak not with intent (quoth Soranso) to make a question of your behauiours, but admit you of al creatures the most perfect: yet for that you haue motions, as wel bad, as good, you may many times make shew of euill, and yet not doe amisse, which if your husbands be so quick sighted, as to perceiue, they will iudge by their owne eyes, and not by your heartes, and so from shadowes may growe euill ef­fects.

If their sight bée so quicke (quoth Francheschina Sancta) then, though by anegligent trespas, their wiues sometime giue them cause to sigh, with a number of louing vsages, they will giue them dayly occasion of reioycing.

I graunt as much (quoth Soranso) but this will follow,The euil of Ie­lousie. the Husband will turne his owne mistrust, to his Wines sorrow, and receiue her good vsage to his owne priuate comfort.

Indéede (quoth Aluisa Vechio) the loue of a ielous hus­band, is sauced with such froward motions, as I had rather be matched with him that regardeth me not at al, then with him that loueth me too much: for of the one, though I am not beloued, yet I shall not be much crossed: of the other, I being too much beloued, I shall neuer be in quiet.

I am not of your minde (quoth Helena Dulce) I had ra­ther haue my Husband ielous,Hard is the difference, be­tweene a care­lesse and a ie­lous Husband. then carelesse: for being care­lesse, no good vsage will reconcile him: and being ielous, the wife may study out how to please him.

Yea, but (quoth Katharina Trista) Men are so easie con­ceited, that if they perceiue a woman studieth how to please them, they straightwayes imagine, she will likewise study how to deceiue them: and therefore, God shielde me from a ielous husband. I haue heard, the white streaked Carna­tion Gilleflower was the Metamorphos of a fayre Gentle­woman, beheaded by her husband vpon this ielous thought, that his wife being so fayre, could not but bee beloued of the Gods,Ouid. Metam. lib. 10. although he had no cause to suspect men. And where haue yée a larger example of Loue then the aduenture of Orpheus, who by extreame sorrow and sute, recouered his Wife out of hell,Eurydice. and by ouer ielous Loue sent her thither agayne?

Doctor Mossonigo was smiling out a scoffe,Preuent a scof­fer, and he be­commeth a Sotte. vpon this tale, which Quéene Aurelia intercepted, by ending of the Gentlewomens contention. By your talke of hell (quoth she) I sée we are out of the way to Platoes Paradise: & there­fore, good, we turne back agayne.

Indéede Madame (quoth Fabritio) if we trauell still, to choose the least of euils, it will be long before we come to the Fountaine of goodnesse.

Me thinkes (quoth Isabella) the Sonet, which moued the late Question,A Commen­dation of lofty Loue. directs a fayre way to happinesse in ma­riage: for it commēdeth lofty Loue, And if, according to the [Page]olde Prouerbe, The best is best cheape: this aduenture giueth hope, and promiseth good Fortune.

It is true (quoth Soranso) and I dare vndertake to ap­prooue it, the happiest estate in mariage.

Dondolo, because he would not be disgraced, by marying a Burgoys fayre Daughter of Rauenna, offered to prooue the contrary.

Quéene Aurelia licensed them to shew their reasons.

Whereupon, quoth Soranso, to giue great Ladies and Gentlewomen of calling, their true right and honour, who lightly marry not their Inferiours in reputation, but for some especial vertue that doth commend their choyce, and cleareth the blemish of her husbands basenesse? I must con­fesse, hat he which raiseth his thought so hie vndertaketh (no doubt) a tedious suite: his delaies will bee grieuous, and his Soliciters will be well rewarded, in what sorte so euer he be regarded. But what of this? Quo quid difficilius, eo pulchrius: Perill maketh honor perfect: the stinging of the Bée mends the swéetenes of Honie: Roses best refreshe oursences, when we prick our hands to reach them:The euill of a thing, com­mendeth the goodnesse. He that crackes the Nut, thinkes the kernell swéetest. The reason is, not for that the goodnesse of a thing, is the better, for the euil thereunto belonging: but, for that the remembrance of the euill, maketh vs holde the good in more reputation: es­pecially in loue. The affection which is forced with teares, wonne with sighes, gaynd with expence, & compassed with sorrow, is held most pleasant, most perfect and of longest continuance. Againe, easie gotten good-wil, becommeth in a while lothsome: the cause is, as I conceiue, for that the pleasure was neuer seasoned with paine. Once a man, in lo­uing his better, to increase his passion, shal lack no occasion, both to séeke, sue, sigh & serue: and yet, to féede his hope, hée shall want neither faire lookes, good words, nor possibility of fauour. For, for to obtain a great Lady, acquireth many cir­cumstances, not for that she is precise to loue, but for that she is wise, (or would be so thought) in her procéedinges. But whether shee loue or no, Ouid sayth, there is no womā, but will indure the demand: she is contēted w^e seruice [Page]to be courted:Loue spareth no degree. and in recompence rewardeth with good coun­tenance. But which most sustayneth hope, the example is in continuall vse: that loue spareth no degrée, transgresseth euery law, & bringeth the mightiest in bondage to the mea­nest. King Cofetua, the Affrican, became enamoured of a Begger: fayre Venus espoused ill fauoured Vukane: Pigma­lion doted vpon an Image: Narcissus was drowned in em­bracing his owne shadow, and mighty Ioue, many times, cast aside his diuinitie, to dally with simple country trulles: then, why should the affected (how bace soeuer his estate be) despayre to attempt a great Lady, when his warrant is signed with so large Authorities? But whether he spéede or faile: be accepted or reiected, well entertained, or ill intrea­ted: the imagination, that time will inuest his desire with delight,Hope to com­passe great matters com­forteth more then the pos­session of tri­fles. is to the affected a Paradise, farre excelling the possession of equall loue: But if in the end, her affection, or his good fortune, concludeth his wish in desire: her loue, which cannot choose but be great: in that she marieth be­neth her calling: And her Abilitie, which allured at the first, with his inabilitie: to realish both, cannot but make the Husband fortunate, and the Wife well pleased: for that in recompence of this aduancement, she may presume som­what to rule her head:Reproofe of lofty Loue. but, which most contents, she shall haue the satisfaction of her fancie a bed.

If a house were as soon builded, as the Plot is drawen (qd Dondolo) Shepheards would disdain to liue in Cotages: euē so, if euery man could as soone compasse a Lady for himselfe, as he can reporte the fortune of other: there must be an Act to make Ladies; or Lords must be glad of meane women. But admit, by the example of other mens aduancements, y^t the meanest may be raysed, by the yéelding fancie of y^e migh­ty: I prophesie that such an vpstart, had more néede of ten eyes, toward the malice of his Wiues kindred, thē one tung to moue her to kindnesse. A woman cannot mislike affectio­nated proffers,One kinsman hath an interest in anothers honor. because they procéede of loue: But her kin­dred disdaineth his attempt, for that the conclusion tendeth both to their & her dishonour: A woman séeing her seruants passions, cannot but sustaine him with pittie, her kindred [Page]séeing him in good way to be beloued, wil lye in waite for his life: For though she may dispose of her affection, her kin­dred hath an interrest in her honour, which if shee consent to staine, or deminish, she doth iniurie to her whole house.

The Cardinal of Aragon, An inhumain parte. aduenged the base choice of his Sister, the Duchesse of Malfy, with the death of her selfe, her Children, and her Husband: and alleaged in defence, that he had done no iniurie to Nature, but purged his House of dis­honour: for Nature (quoth he) is perfect, and who blemisheth her is a monster in Nature, whose head, without wrong to Nature may be cut off.

Yea (quoth Soranso) but, this Cardinall, for all his habit,Defence, &c. and glose of Iustice, is for this act so often regestred for a Tirant, as I feare me hée will neuer come among the num­ber of Saints: but the example of these mariages are vsuall,Reproofe, &c. and such ensuing vengeance is but rare, and besides her espe­ciall contentment, a woman looseth none of her generall ti­tles of dignitie by matching with her inferior.

In déede (quoth Dondolo) in common curtesie she enioy­eth them,A womā that abaseth her selfe in Mari­age, in law lo­seth her repu­tation, but not in curtesie. but in the strickt construction of the law, she is de­graded. And by this meane is bound to intertaine the mea­ner, with familiaritie, least they (being proude, or reputing her scornefully) doo crosse her ouer the thumbes with the fol­lies of her fancy. But admit the meane seruant marry his Mistresse, and escapeth the mallice of her friends: which suc­cesse, one among ten such suters hardly attaineth.The naturall desires of a woman. Let him yéeld to pay this rent for his good fortune: to suffer his wife, to rule, to direct, and to command his owne determinations. And where she ordereth: the vncontrouled Wife, desireth to bée serued with pompe, and to bée set forth with pride: which the ruling Husband would represse, as well for sa­uing his wiues honour, as for sparing his owne pursse.

The vncontrouled wife desireth to walke at libertie, and to be visited of many: of which the ruling Husband, would barre her: as well to preserue his minde from mistrust, as to kéepe his Chimney from being fired.

The vncontrouled wife disdayneth the Countrie, and de­streth the Citie: which the ruling Husband would mislike, [Page]for that in the Countrie, the exercise of huswiferie inlargeth his Wiues estunation, and in the Citie, idlenesse hazardeth her reputation.

The vncontrouled Wife desireth without checke to prattle, & without discretion to gouerne: which the ruling Husband in no wise would allowe, for that many wordes is a blemish to his wiues modesty, and the rule of his Wife is warrant sufficient, for the wise to ouerrule him for a Woodcocke.

Many other vanities follow the desires of Women: which a man thus aduanc'st, must forbeare to chasten, least hée expose himselfe to a thousand dangers: for the wife ta­king pepper in the nose, will suffer him, (yea perchaunce, a­grée to make him) a pray, to the displeasure of his enemies: I meane her able friends and kindred: which bondage is not within the Paradice Plato speaketh of: For according to the opinion of sundrie Philosophers, as Nature will not bée controuled, for that she createth: as Fortune is wonne with no praiers, because she is blinde, and shooteth at aduenture: no more dooth mariage allow of inequallitie, because her wil is to deuide her benefits, and blessings among the married with indifferencie.

To this end Mariage is likened to Sienes grafted in a stocke of contrarie qualitie: for as by growth and good order,Iudgement in reproofe of lofty loue. they both become of one nature, euen so, man and wo­man vnited in this honourable estate, with good vsage, become of one disposition. Againe, as Sienes thus grafted without speciall Husbandrie, while they be tender, come to no proofe: euen so man and woman, thus ioyned in Matri­monie: vnlesse in the prime of their Mariage, with equall care, they loue and cherish one another, in the waine of their yeares, the swéete Fruites of wedsock will be blasted with repentance.

Segnior Fabritio, to conclude Dondolos opinion, with his own iudgement, said in truth, that Mariage could not away with such seruitude: as the Husband, who is wise and the chiefe, should obay the wife, who in common construction, is simple, weake, and the inferiour. And where a rich woman [Page](as Dondolo hath said) Marieth her poore Seruant, because she is the cause of his aduancement, she wil looke to gouerne: which if she doo, her indiscretion will moue others to speake, and her husband to sorrow: & if he challenge the priueledge of a husband to direct, he shall be bound to a life more bitter then Death. Not, but that in respect of his former estate, he may endure these crossings of his wife, but because, as he is growne in estimatiō: so is he growne in hautines of minde, and can now worse brooke an vnkinde word, then in times past, an imurious déede. And therefore in Dondolos behalfe, I doo iudge Soranso to be in an errour.

I wil not dispute against the authoritie of your iudgment (quoth Soranso) but at aduenture if yonger brethren erre in mariage, God send thē to stumble vpon no worser fortune.Men must haue regarde how they blame, least they bite thē selues.

Quéene Aurelia, who regarded, that Dondolo was some­what too lauish, in painting out of the naturall desires of a woman, knew as well how to set forth his follies and ouer­sight: and therefore to take a modest reuenge (quoth shée) If happinesse in Mariage consisteth so much in the Lordly rule of the husband, then where a man marieth his inferior in reputation, there is a likelyhood of good agréement: where­fore Segnior Dondolo, because I think you maried your wife, with the same Iudgement, with which you manife­sted the inconueniences of loftie Loue: I beséech you, shew vs the blessings of this inferiour choyce.

Soranso, and the rest began to smile, to heare this com­mandement: for wel they knew Dondolo was intrapt with a slaunder of his owne reputation: but Dondolo, although he were a little gauled, set a reasonable florish vpon his bace fancie: & therefore (quoth he) as it is alreadie adiudged,Defence of bace loue. if a man marrie aboue his calling, he must beare with his Wife in folly, as much as shée was blinded in fancying of him: which bondage mariage can hardly endure: then if hée match with his inferiour, if contraries haue contrarie qua­lities, per consequence: she will be as lowly, as the other is loftie: as pacient, as the other is proude: and as dutiful, as the other is disoainfull: if the other prodisgally spond, because her portion is large, she wil w^e huswiferie spare, because her [Page]substance was small: if the other presume, because of her Gentrie, shée will séeke reputation, with her good conditi­ons: and if the other bolster her faultes, with the counte­nance of her able Friends,A rich dowrie with a wo­man. shée dooing amisse, will crie her husband mercie, because she lackes succorers, to sustains her euill: a course, as Plato saieth, that maketh the dowrie of the poore virgine of greater vallue then the possesions of a rich Lady.

You are nothing deceiued in the course (quoth Faliero) but much mistaken in the creature.Reproofe, &c. As touching your Con­traries, I mislike your Consequent: for fire and Water haue contrarie working, and vnorderly vsed, both hurtfull: prodigallitie, and couetousnesse, are contraries, and necessa­rie: euen so, the courtly dame, and the Countrey droyle, as they are contrary in calling, so are they contrary in conditi­ons: and so they may be matched, neither profitable.

A Diamond is blemisht, by the setting in Brasse, and a Flynt not the beautifuller, for being garnisht with Golde: euen so, the honour of a woman, is Cclipst, in matching with her Seruant, her slaue, or her inferior: for that Strangers will valew her by her Fortune, although her haughtie na­ture, will not lose the name of her reputation: neither is the estimation of a Kitchinstuffe inlarged, by marrying with a Courtier: for that the best will d [...]aine her basenes, not so much for her byrth, as her bringing vp: yet, presuming on her Husbands calling,Kytte will to kinde. in pride she will pearch with the highest: which Soueraigntie in the one, and saucines in the other, se­parats pleasantnesse from their husbands, and quietnes both from themselues and their households: where, as if the Gen­tlewoman marrie with a Gentleman, and a Kitchinstuffe with a Cooke: the one with duetifull regarde of her husband may hold her reputation, and the other shall not be driuen, to dissemble with their kinde.

Wel, let this suffice, to refell their suggestions, that think pleasantly to spend their dayes, by marrying either their bet­ter or inferiour.

Now, touching the generall disposition of such women, as from the cart, are raysed vnto this account: they will vse the [Page]better sorte with strangenesse, because they lacke the order of honest curtesie to entertaine them, and with the basest wil be familiar, because the rudenes of the one answereth the ig­norance of the other: so that it is more requisite for him that is thus maried, to watch his wiues going into the Stable, for feare of his horsekéeper, then in her Parlor, to eye her be­hauiour, in entertaining the Gallant.

Examine King Astolphus, what constancie he found in his thrée halpenie Iuell, whom he had turned out of Shéeps russet, into Cloth of Siluer: in such honours, had no other­wise altered her manners, but that she thought the lippes of a Captaine was as swéete as a Kings, and therefore in al her brauerie, she fell to her kinde.

If this suffice not, heare the vsage of Bianca Maria, The fall of Maria Bianca is written by the Author in his booke, in­tituled, the Rocke of Re­garde. daugh­ter and onely Heire of Giaccomos Scapardon, a notable V­surer of Baetta. Biancas beautie made her sufficiently known, but her Fathers bagges made her wonderfully desired: so that both ioyned together, aduanst her from a shop Maide, first, to be the wife of Vicount Hermes: after whose death, clyming vp to further honor, and declining in honestie, shée esppused the Counte of Zeland. Long after the second Ma­riage, she dailyed not with her disposition, which was rather in an open shop, to be courted with men, then in a secret chamber to be accompanied with waiting women: so that following her vnmodest fancy, with a few Prentices, shée fled from her husband to Padua, where she set vp for herselfe: and thus she vnworthely raised to be a Countesse, wicked­ly, and wilfully fell to be a Eourtesan.

Andrea Zeno, a Gentleman of Venice, was as fluttishly serued with Via a Cookes daughter, who vpon her Mariage day, made an easie way for her husband, with no better man, then a Carpenter.

If you couet more Authorities, to approue so common a mischiefe, read Ouid Metamorphosis in Latine, Segnior Lodo­uicus Regesterin Italian. Amadis de Gaule in French,Aucthorities for amorous Histories. and the Pallace of pleasure in English, where you shall finde store of Histories to the like purpose.

Sir (quoth Dondola) without offence, either to your per­son [Page]or your proofes (for that the one I loue,Defence. and the other I allowe) to confirme my opinion, I can likewise summon women as base as these in birth, and as high as these in for­tune, which with their good behauiours gaue a grace to their reputation Chaste Epethia, the well beloued wife of Harmo Prince of Garthage, was a Saylers daughter. The vertuous Virginia, espoused to Sextillius a worthie Senator of Rome, was a Laundres. Both these were beautified with such singuler vertues, as while they liued, their honest liues instructed the greatest Lady, in points of honor: and being dead, the remembrance of their worthinesse is a special com­mendation to the whole sexe of women.

Sir (quoth Faliero) as the Prouerbe goeth:Reproofe, &c. One or two Swallowes prooues not Summer: two or thrée may thriue by Dice, yet is dycing ill husbandrie: because for the inriching of a few, it beggereth many: so, though two or thrée wor­thy Parsonages were well wiued out of worthles parenta­ges; a thousand, following the same course, haue had a con­trary fortune: and where the knowledge of euill is more then the possibility of good: vertue warrants not the venter: In warre, the miraculous escape of two or thrée rash per­sons, is no safeconduct, for euery man to run vpon the pikes: yet I grant that in war, desperate men are néedefull, for the safetie of the discreate, and so are homely women necessaris for their seruice: but if you will vse either to your benefit, incourage the one with great pay, and the other with good wages: for if you commit a charge to a harebraine Souldior, his temerity in one houre will hinder more, then his yeares hazard did further. And as I haue said, if you make of your Kitchen-maide, a companion, her pride in one dayes liberty will anoy more, then her seauen yeares loue will comfort.

Séeing the company begin to smile, I am satisfied quoth Dondolo.

But how? quoth Aluisa Vechio: doo you repent you of your bargaine, or disallow of Falieros proofes?

Neither quoth Dondolo: For in generall choyce, this course is out of the way to Platos Paradice: but for that my especiall Fortune is good, I am pleased.

Yea, quoth Soranso, or if the contrary had happened, this might haue comforted you, that your wife should not haue béen the only blamed woman in the Parish, nor you the sole vnfortunate man.

Well, quoth Fabritio and Isabella: A confession is a prety Iudge­ment. There néedes no further iudgement in this question, then Dondolos confes­sion and his yéelding to Falieros proofes.

We haue in this exercise taken thrée sundrie wayes, (quoth Quéene Aurelia) and yet neuer a one the right way to our Paradice: and now it is too late to trauel any further. Therefore we will refresh our spirits with a little Musick, and so adiourne our further controuersies vntil to morrow: but as the Eunuche was a tuning his voyce, to haue fulfil­led his Ladies commaundement, knowledge was giuen of certaine honourable Personages ariuall: by occasion whereof, the company left their determination to furnish the great Chamber.

The wittie deuice of Segnior Philoxenus, to giue certaine Comedians a Theame, to present some pastime in action, the fift night after Supper.

BY that time Supper was done, certaine Commedians of Reuenna, presented their seruice to Segnior Philoxenus, and his honourable companie, who are not tied to a written deuice, as our English Players are, but hauing certaine grounds or principles of their owne will, Extempore, make a pleasant showe of other mens fantasies: so that to trie the quicknes of the Gentlemen, and Gentlewomens wittes, to giue the Comedians a theame, Segnior Philoxenus, deman­ded the meaning of certaine Questions.

Segnior Soranso, quoth he: what passion is that, that tor­menteth a man most, and hath least power to ouercome?

To thinke of a Womans Inconstancie, quoth Soranso: 1. Incōstancy. which grieueth euery man, and cannot bée subdued by wo­men themselues.

Madam Aurelia, (quoth Philoxenus:) What thing is that, which most delighteth, and most deceiueth a Woman?

A mans dissimulation (quoth Quéene Aurelia:) Which hath such a swéete passage,2. Dissimula­tion. through his Tongue, as it deligh­teth like the Sirens Songs, and yet turneth to as deceitefull a conclusion, as the Crocadiles Teares.

This yet was but quid pro quo: so that neither one part nor the other was displeased.

The modest laughter being ceased, Segnior Philoxenus de­maunded of Ismarito, what was the cause of most Deuotion? and yet the greatest replenisher of Hell.

Ignorance [quoth Soranso] which causeth men to worship Stones,3. Ignorance. and dishonour God.

Madam Maria, what is that (quoth Seginor Philoxenus) that of men is least estéemed, and of God most regarded?

Chastitie [quoth Maria Belochy] which is precious before God,4. Chastitie. and a laughing stock among men.

Doctor Mossenigo [quoth Segnior Philoxenus] among men who is the most cruell?

A Dycer [quoth the Doctor] for he teareth God inpéeces.5. A Dicer. This answere, was both true, and moued newe laughter: although it were propounded to discouer the nature of the Enuious,6. Enuie. who murthereth the liuing, and the fame of the dead.

Madam Lucia [quoth Segnior Philoxenus] wherein doth a man please a woman best, and displease himselfe most?

The modest Gentlewoman began to blush, & with great difficultie resolued this Question.

In the end, by the tongue of Aluisa Vechio (quoth she) in giuing of her,7. Will. her Wyll.

It is true (quoth the Doctor) for her delight is to gouern, wherein her discretion giueth others cause to laugh, and her husband to hang the lyp.

Segnior Dondolo [quoth Segnior Philoxenus] what is the greatest friend to men at liberty, and the most enemie to such as are condemned?

Hope [quoth Dondolo,] which incourageth men at liber­tie, to attempt great matters,8. Hope. and maketh such as are con­demned, vnprepared for death.

Madam Helena [quoth Seignior Philoxenus] what is that [Page]which woundeth the heart, and yet is worshipped of the eye?

Beauty, quoth Helena Dulce, for it pleaseth a mans eye,9 Beauty. and pearceth his heart.

Segnior Bargetto, quoth Segnior Philoxenus, What is that which oweth most and payeth least, and of all euils is the worst.

Ingratitude: (quoth Bargetto) For that Monster recei­ueth good turnes, and payeth vengeance.10. Ingratitude

Madame Franceschina, (qd Segnior Philoxenus) What is that, which in louing too much, baneth with Hate?

Ielousie, (quoth Franceschina Sancta) which by ouer­much louing raiseth Suspition: Suspition moueth Contention: 11. Ielousie. and Contention turneth to mortall hatred.

Segnior Faliero, I demaund (quoth Philoxenus) who he is, that profiteth his friends, but by death: is a Steward for other men: and maketh his account (onely) with God?

A Couetous man, (quoth Faliero) who while he liueth, is enemie vnto himselfe,12. Couetous­nes. and therefore vnlikely to be friend to others: also is but a Steward of his goods he gathereth, for he spareth for others, and spendeth little or nothing vp­on himselfe: and at the iudgement day, before GOD, must make account of all his deceit.

Madame Katharina, quoth Segnior Philoxenus: what is that, which is coldest clad in Friese, and warmest tired in precious stones?

Pride, quoth Katharina Trista, which hath no grace but in brauerie.

Louely guests, quoth Segnior Philoxenus, you haue so liuely diuined my meaning in your sharpe answeres: as I expect wonders of your dayly disputation.

Sir, quoth Fabritio, we hitherto haue but exposed, and refelled errours.

If you haue done so much (quoth Philoxenus) you haue made a fayre passage for the glorie of Trueth, Vertue is com­mended by vice. which by the refelling of Error, you shall finde: for euery vertue is com­mended by his contrary. A Diamond séemeth the fayrer, for his foyle. Black best fetteth forth White: Good is most [Page]praysed in the reprehension of euill: and Trueth in the high­est degrée is renowmed by the refelling of errour: and ther­fore follow your purpose, the conclusion cannot but be pro­fitable.

Here Segnior Philoxenus stopped his digression, and com­maunded the Comedians to bethinke themselues of some action, that should liuely expresse the nature of Inconstancy, Dissimulation, Ignorance, and the rest of the passions be­fore named: Which charge being giuen, while the Ac­tors were attyring themselues for the Stage, Quéene Au­relia, and her attendants, tooke their places, with such ad­uantage, as euery Gentleman had liberty to deuise with his Mistresse.

After the Comedians had put themselues in order, they patched a Comedie together, and vnder the recited names, shewed some matter of Morality, but a great deal of mirth: who with their pastime, kept the company vp so long, as drowsie sléepe, which delighteth in nothing but silence, ar­rested the greater parte of them, and caried them close priso­ners vnto their chambers.

THe chearefull Sun which comforteth euery earthly Creature, as the Lan­terne of broade day, so enlightened e­uery Chamber of Segnior Philoxenus Pallace: as the Gentlemen and Gen­tlewomen, to be auenged of the iniurie of Night, (who being the mother of cō ­fusion, had separated them from their companions of plea­sure) [Page]hastily rose & attyred themselues: & (like vnto Partrid­ges, that howsoeuer they are seuered, know (& retire vnto) their méeting places) presented themselues in the great Chamber. The offce of ciuill courtesie discharged, such as were coupled, entertained Time, with the deuice of their e­speciall fancies: others, contemplated of their priuate af­fayres: and Ismarito among the rest, in a quiet place, was reading in Peter Mesier his Cronicle of Memorable things: The rare Historie of Tamberlaine the Great,Tamberlaine the great, in the beginning a Pesaunt. surnamed Flagellum Dei, where he much admired the vertues of the man, who of alabouring Pesant, or (in the best degrée) of a poore Souldier, by his vertues and inuincible valour, be­came a great Monarch: Yea, and while Tamberlaine liued, was as much feared as Alexander. But Ismarito, more la­mented, that so mighty a Monarchie, erected by the Father, should end by the enuie, and ciuill dissention of the children.

Segnior Philoxenus (after he had giuen a Bongiorno, to the company, séeing Ismarito, not chayned to a companyon, determined to giue his solitarinesse, a disgrace, by cōuersing with him, in some Gentlemanly Discourse:He is not alone that hath good Bookes. but finding him accompanied with so swéete a companion, as Mesiers Cro­nicles, Segnior Ismarito, (quoth he) you haue deceiued my i­magination, which perswaded me that you were solitarie, and therefore bound me (in courtesie) to visite you. But sée­ing the great personages, with whome you deuise, I enuie your happy contemplation.

But your Enuie (quoth Ismarito) is like that of Mutius Sceuola, desirous to excel the better sort in vertue, as you ex­céede the Rakehell multitude in courtesie.

This incounter, and a little other priuate talke ended,A most famous library in the Dukes Pallace at Florence, left by Cosmos de Medicis. Segnior Philoxenus lead Ismarito into a fayre Librarie, beautified with such a number of goodly Bookes, of all Sciences, Lawes, Customes, Gouerments, and memoriall Monuments, as well ancient as moderne, as it came very néere in excellency, to y^e famous Library of Cosmos de Medi­cis, in Florence: who imitated in his Monument, Ptolemey, surnamed Philadelphus: who had y^e seuenty interpreters of y^e Iewes to trāstate the sacred Bible, into y^e Egyptian language, [Page]and with great diligence, sought to haue the seuerall Copies of all Bookes.

After Ismarito had well regarded the orderly sorting of of these Bookes, and how by a short Kalender, a Man with­out great paine, might turne vnto any harde Question, in any Science, and haue large resolutions, and had taken a note of the title of certaine Bookes that he had not séene, and yet necessary to be reade.

Segnior Philoxenus lead him into his owne priuate study,It belongeth to a Gentleman to be seuere in many things. which was furnished with Summaries, or abridgements of all Sciences: which he studied with such a iudgement, as there was no Arte, wherein he had not a speciall knowledge which in argument he exposed, with so good a wit and memo­rie, as many times, hee grounded Masters in that Science. And for that in all his actions he was the true patterne for a Gentleman to imitate, in honour of whome, and for the benefite of such Gentlemen, as will follow his example, in vertue I am bound to set briefly downe, the chiefest cause of his studie.

First and principally,Diuinitie. for the comfort both of his bo­die and soule. In Theologie, he read those bookes, that clea­red the mistes of Ignorance, and vnmasked the deceipts of the superstitious Monkes, Friers, &c. And contemplated in the swéete comfort of those Authors, that expounded the hard passages of the Scripture.

And for that Health is the most precious Iuell of the worlde,Phisicke. knowing the Constitution of his owne bodye, hee studied so much in Phisick, as without the direction of Do­ctors, he knew what meate and Medicine agréed with his nature.

To minister Iustice vnto the ignorant multitude, and to kéepe himselfe out of the Forfeits of Law,Lawe. he studied the ciuill Law, and specially, the Statutes of his Countrey: And (questionlesse) the Gentleman, that is ignorant in the Lawes of his Countrey, is an enemie to himselfe, and a Ci­pher in the common weale.

In Militarie knowledge he was experienced, as well by seruice in the Fielde,Arte Militarie. as in reading Vegetius and other [Page]Authors in his study. And some trauel in this Arteie néed­full, as well as commendable for a Gentleman: for it is not in ough for him, to be Togatus, as a Romane Orator, nor Pa­liatus, as a Grecian Philosopher: in that he must as wel in the fielde looke his enemie in the face, as imbrace his friend in the house: and therefore, though he bare a Pen in his eare, to write his owne commentaries, he is bound to weare a Sworde by his side, to doo his Countrey seruice.

For Gouerment and Ciuill behauiours,Moralitie. he read Plu­tarches Morals: Gueuaraes Diall of Princes: the Courti­er of Count Baldazar, Castillio: and others. And (in trueth) it is not so necessary, to be well borne, as to be wel quallited, and of good behauiour: wherefore, the studie of Moralitie is very néedfull for a Gentleman.

Hee (likewise) studied Cosmographie, Cosmography and had therein commendable knowledge: which studie cannot but much please and commend a braue minded Gentleman: For by the vertue thereof, he shalbe in his Study, able to suruaye the whole worlde: and with an agréeable discourse, shall bound out a Stranger his owne Countrey.

He was a good Historiographer, Historiogra­phie. and had read many rare Chronicles. How pleasing this studie is to a Gentleman, is liuely expressed in his owne nature, greedy of newes. And where may he haue better intelligence, then Cronicles? in which quietly in his owne Studie, he may receiue know­ledge of Actes done throughout the whole worlde.

He was a good Herauld, and had read much in Armorie:Armorie. an Arte most néedfull for a Gentleman, in that it is the cog­nisance of himselfe. And in my opinion, he that is not able to blason his owne Armes, is not worthy to beare them.

These Gentlemanly studies he vsed, intermedled with others of more pleasure, which I had not leasure to regarde, nor memorie to beare away: but in all: is actions, and be­hauiours, he exposed a Gentleman so perfect, as in regar­ding of him, but one halfe yeare,Segnior Phi­loxenus a per­fect Courner a man might haue noted downe a Courtier, not inferiour to that of Count Baldezar.

By that time Segnior Philoxenus had sufficiently fed Is­maritoes eyes, with this honourable fauour: y^e sound of the [Page]Trumpet gaue knowledge of dinner, so y^e Ismarito was dri­uen to leaue that earthly Paradise, to attend honorable Phi­loxenus into the great Chamber: against whose comming, the Table stoode furnished with many dainty dishes. And Quéene Aurelia, and the rest of the company were readie to salute him: which courtesie perfourmed, she tooke her ap­pointed place, and the rest as they pleased.

Towards the latter end of this dinner, a meane fellow, guarded betwéene two Furies of the Kitchin, was brought coram nobis, for some pettie pilfering in the Scullerie.

Segnior Philoxenus referred his payne to the iudgement of the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen there present.

Some of the Gentlemen appoynted him some pleasaunt payne in the office where he did the trespasse: some other of the Gentlewomen, ouercome with a natural pitie, accepted his teares in satisfaction,Women are too pitiful to be Iudges. and so discharged him: But the Doctor more rougher then the rest, tooke him vp so shorte, as the poore fellow was driuen to say, Sir, where you may helpe, hurte not: The Doctor, to satisfie his request, and to kéepe his first determination,A scoffer is many times smit­ten with his own weapon. answered, To help to hang a Thiefe, is no hurte to the common weale, your petition shall be signed. The rascall Théefe hearing this seuere iudgement (as the Italians are naturally quick witted) replyed: If chiefe Ma­gistrates should set their hands to this Iustice, There would be more Lawyers hanged for stealing of houses, then Rogues for robbing of hedges. The answere of the Doctor, and the replie of the poore fellow made the company so merry, that for the pastime the trespasser had made them, they remitted the punishment of his offence.

The laughter quieted: in the commendation of his coun­treymans capacitie (quoth Soranso) Master Doctor, this poore Snake, spake true Italian.

Yea (quoth the Doctor) but he lackes the vertues of the ancient Romanes: Italians are wise, but euill conditioned. couertly expressing thereby, that their wits were good, but their conditions were euill.

Bargetto enuying the fauours Ismarito receiued, and for some priuate grudge,Enuy euer­more quarel­leth with those that are fauou­red. about crossing in argument, sought by some pleasant scoffe, to raise an vnkind quarel: and with [Page]that intent (quoth he) Segnior Ismarito, I drinke vnto you, with a better affection, than I bare you in my sléepe, for I dreamed, with my Rapier drawne, I chased you to your Chamber.

Ismarito, quickly answered,Quarellers seek their owne miscerefe. I pleadge you (Segnior Bargetto) but with lesse feare then you supposed to be in mée when you were asléepe: for men after they are awake, ex­pound dreames by contraries.

Bargetto deceiued of his expectation, was driuen by pa­tience to salue the wound he had giuen himselfe.

But Segnior Philoxenus, A wise fore­sight in a Gen­tleman. to take away the cause of after kindnesse, reaued the company of leasure to iudge of Bar­gettoes quarelling dreame, or of Ismaritoes crosse exposition, by kéeping of them exercised with a new deuice.

Indéede (quoth he) Dreames are vncertaine, and ther­fore not to be regarded, but there is a true kinde of diuina­tion in Palmestrie, and so in looking in Maria Belochies hand,Palmestrie, a prety idle qua­litie for a Gen­tleman. he vsed certaine names of Arte, and gaue a voluntarie plea­sing Iudgement: which fiered all the Ladies and Gentle­women, with an earnest desire to know their fortune: and by this meanes, theremembrance of former questions was taken away. Wherein Segnior Philoxenus wisdome may be a president for other Gentlemen that heare quarels a brée­ding, to smoulder them in the shell: for men that bee angry,A necessary note for a Gentleman. are bound to their passion, when such as are not moued, haue liberty to pacifie with discretion.

Thus, with their spirites well pleased, Quéene Aurelia and the rest of the companie, rose from the Table, and after ordinarie curtesie ended, they paused a time by the Fire to put their wits in order, for the following disputation: who at the ordinary houre entered the drawing Chamber, where the Eunuch ready to discharge his duety, vnto the Lute sung this following Sonet.

This Sonet, moued the company to smile, not because the inuention was vnwittie, but in that it was the fruits of Doctor Mossenigoes Muse, who to reuenge vpon himselfe all the iniurie, which he had done to the sexe of Women, be­came enamoured of Katherina Trista, the waspishest Damosel among the whole troupe of Gentlewomen: But knowing the Doctors Philosophie, could not so subdue his affection, but that time would make them all sporte and him smarte, they dissembled their knowledge of his folly, as déepely as he couered the passions of his fancy: notwithstanding to raise some spéech, and to set the Doctor a worke with hope:

Quoth Aluisa Vechio, this Sonet prophesieth a happie life to a young woman, and much comfort to an olde man if their fortunes be so good as to be maried together. And if I had as good a passage for my opinion, as I haue Reason to mayntayne the same: I would thinke to prooue this couple worthy of a place in Platoes Paradise.

Among so many good Orators (quoth Quéene Aurelia) you cannot want an aduocate.

Whereupon Katharina Trista, with a false eye, coniured the Doctor in this question, to maintaine his Lone: who thus enioyned, tooke vpon him to maintaine Aluisa Vechi­oes opinion.

Quéene Aurelia licensed him, and no aduersary appeared to discourage him: whereupon (quoth he) where an old man marieth a yong woman, the contentment séemes to be much,Defences where an olde man marieth a yong wo­man. and the comfort more: my reason is, the olde man hath not onely chosen a wife, to recreate him as a companion, but a Cooke to prepare chosen meates for his impaired appetite, and a Staffe to sustaine his Age. The yong wife also may holde her selfe happie in this fortune: for she hath chosen one whom she may not onely rule, but commaund: and for a lit­tle paines, who will leaue her possest of a great deale of li­uing. And this is most certaine, that cruel and wilde Crea­tures do most hurt, where their will is most resisted: and haue great compassion, where they finde no proffer of re­pulse: The Lyon in his greatest hunger, hurts not the wounded Shéepe: the Crocadile with teares washeth the blood from a murthered man, and the raging Sea refresheth the yéelding Réede: much more, a woman (that by nature is beautified with pittie) if she rule without checke, will glory in the good vsage of her Husband: and this is in dayly vse, that the olde man in assemblies, findes his yong wife modest in her spéech, bashfull in her lookes, and nice in occasion of suspition: and whether this behauiour procéeds of desire to be praised, or of feare to be blamed, I conclude the cause with her commendation: for that to do well in hope of praise, comes of the incouragement of vertue: and to do well for feare of reprehension, is the signe of a good inclination.

By Saint Anne Sir (quoth Soranso,) you well deserue a Fée, (especially,Reproofe, &c. of the yong wife) in that you so cunningly haue coloured her ouersight, and so Clarkely haue commen­ded her good vsage of her olde Husband: but your Suggesti­on tends to as small effect, as the Fortune is euill, of a couple thus vnequally matched: for that common reason will re­fute your weake opinion, and dayly experience recordes the miseries of the other.

What likelyhoode of continuance, hath the House whose ground worke is rotten, although the prospect be beautifull and strong? God wot the féeblenes of the Foundation will ouerthrowe the firmenesse of the vpper frame.

Compare this vnequall estate in Mariage, with this o­uersight in building, and you shall finde the discorde as great betwéen the one, as the ruine and decay spéedie in the other. The good and able Gouernment of the Husband, is the foū ­dation and ground worke of Mariage, and the beauty of the Wife, the blessing in hauing of Children, and the benefite of possessing liuings are the outward buildings of mariage: And as they are pleasant in the eye of the world, euen so they greatly please the mindes of the maried, and giue a singuler grace to this honourable vocation. But, if the Gouernment of the Husband be inabled with age: (as in truth) Olde Age is no other then a second Infancie:

In whose desire, direction, discretion, and delight, there are imperfections: The beautie of the wife will be blasted with sorrow, for the insufficiencie of her Husband: euill Education will accurse their blessing in hauing of children: and negligence will waste their benefites of liuing. You holde a yong wife a companion to recreate an olde man, but he shall finde her a corsiue that will consume him to death. A yong man concludeth, the swéetest solace in loue with sighes: it is thē like, an olde man endes it with teares: And God he knowes, he often wéepeth more of desire to please his wife, then of any deuotion he hath to wantonnesse: yet is all his paines to a fruitlesse purpose, for that the Game finisheth in his gréefe, and neither began nor endes in his wiues contentment.

You are too quick in aduantage Segnior Soranso, Defence, &c. (quoth the Doctor) olde Wine though it be dead in the mouth, yet is it warme in the Stomack, when the new fumes in the head, but comforteth not the hart. Dry wood maketh a bright fire, where gréene bowes consume halfe away in Fume and Smoake.

The Sunne riseth watrishly, and is long before it giueth heate, where, in the afternoone it scorcheth the face: So a yong man deuideth his loue into a hundreth affections, and euery fancy pleased, there will but a little fall to his wiues share: where an old mans loue is setled and his fancy is fix­ed vpon one: And as the recited examples, in age are in [Page]best hart: so to proue an olde mans sufficiencie, there is a cō ­mō Prouerb: Graie haires are nourished with green thoughts.

Now, to content his yong wife, she shal haue no cause to suspect his Affection abroad, and shall not lack to be beloued at home.

Moreouer, which delighteth a yong woman, (who na­turally is ambitious) she shal take her place, according to the grauitie of her Husband, and not as her yong yéeres re­quireth.

And to conclude, to giue her an honourable name, the most precious Iuell with which a woman may be beautified, she shal receiue graue directions from her husband: and through the swéete delight she taketh in hearing her good gouermēt commended, we will put them in execution.

Doctor Mossenigo replyed not with this vehemencie, for any delight he had to commend this vnequall estate in Mari­age, but to flatter Katharina Trista with an Ambitious hope of great reputation, in matching with his aged selfe: but she (that knew a legge of a Larke, was better then the whole carkasse of a Kite) would none, God thank him.

And to make him horn wood (if he perseuered in his opini­on) in Soransoes behalfe (quoth Bargetto his ancient crosser) Maister Doctor, there is more pride in your words, thē sub­stance in your proofes: your hartie olde Wine must be dra­wen out when it is broached, your dry wood is but a blaze, and your hotte Sunne doth but sweat for sorrow, that he is going to cowche in the darke Caues of Tartessus. Reproofe, &c. But as touching olde men, they may well be sufficient in gréene thoughts as you terme them, but I am assured that in déeds they are weake and withered, and therefore a man cannot speake too much euill of this excesse in dotage: withered Flowers are more fit for a Dunghill, then méete to decke a house: olde rotten Trées are néedefull for the fire, but vnne­cessary to stand in an Orchard: euen so, olde decaied crea­tures are comely in the Church, but vnséemely by a yong womans side.

The olde man which marrieth a yong Wife is sure of this sowre sauce, to rellish his swéet imaginations:The mischan­ces of an olde man yōg­ly maried. his belo­ued [Page]wife (howsoeuer she dissembleth) disdaineth him: his neighbours all to beflouteth him, and soothing Parasites be­guileth him: common opinion will counterfeit him like Ac­teon, not so much for the ficklenesse they sée in his wife, as for the infirmities they know in himselfe. And bréefely, to conclude his ioy:A yong wife is death to an olde man. he may (perchaunce) liue two yéeres with his faire wife: but the mischaunce of his Children, will re­member his infamie, for euer: Gréene Iuy, which catcheth an olde Trée, maketh quick worke for the fire: and the im­bracements of a faire woman, hastneth an olde man to his Graue. And although it be a hainous wrōg, causelesse to cō ­demne the wife:An honest wo­man is lightly slaundered by the imperfecti­ons of her Husband. yet this will be the opinion, she killed her Husband with thought, to heare and sée how she trespassed, both against his and her owne honour.

Foule fall such a Mariage (quoth Maria Belochy) where the vertuous Wife shall be slaundered, through the imper­fections of her Husband.

It is some wrong (quoth Fabritio) but shee might haue foreséene the mischiefe,Repentance to late. while she was frée.

Well (quoth Quéene Aurelia) vpon this knowledge of mischaunce,The wise are warned by the mischances of others. our companie, are sufficiently warned. Pro­céede in iudgement, as you allow eithers opinion.

Whereupon, Fabritio with Isabella, with one accord, gaue sentence against Doctor Mossenigo, in these wordes, An olde man amourous of a yong woman, is an enemy both to his health and reputation, for the causes aforesaide.

The rest of the company smyled to heare this iudgement, but the Doctor brake foorth many a secret sigh, not for y^e dis­grace he tooke in his pleading (for he defended an ill matter, with colour sufficiēt) but in that he knew this verdict would alwaies be a barre in his sute.

While the Doctor and Soranso argued: Quéene Aurelia espied in the Cloth of Arras,A Rhinocerot. a beast fourmed like an Vni­corne, saue that he bare his horn in his nose: which beast slée­ping, laid his murthering horne in a yong Maidens lap: and after the question was decided, she demaunded what y^e beast was? and what the misterie signified: but the meaning was as strange as the sight, to most of the company.

In the end (quoth Ismarito) Madame,The Meta­morphose of Rinauius, a Gentleman of Naples. I haue read of a gallant yong Gentleman of Naples, named Rinautus, that was Metamorphosed into such a Beast, by this aduenture: passing through the Iland of Circeiū [that Homer speaketh of] which is now annexed vnto the Continent, he was espi­ed of Circes, who inhabited that Iland. This wrinckled ill-fauoured witch, at the first sight was surprised in loue, with the goodly shape and beauty of this séemely Gentleman, but for all her charmes and inchauntments, her art failed, either to force him to loue, or to frée her selfe from louing: for, not­withstanding she was a Goddesse, he disdained her ouer­worne foule, and withered visage, and she presuming of her sorcerie, powred fresh Coles vpon her kindled desire, in hope that necessitie would force him to consent to the request, frée will contemned: but Cupid (to whom such power onely be­longeth) to scourge her presumption, in such sorte hardened Rinautus hart, that all Circes sute and sorceries tended vnto a fruitlesse successe. Insomuch, as in her rage she turned him into a Rhinocerot, a beast of vnconquerable force, who in his nose beareth a horne much like to the Vnicorne: But not­withstanding he was thus transfourmed (as King Nabu­chadonizer, in the fourme of an Oxe, retained the spirite of a man) so he in his altered shape nourished his ancient disdaine of ill fauoured Circes, and to be fully auenged, with all his force pursueth olde Creatures, and such as he ouertaketh he goreth to death, yet is he by this pollicie subdued: Place a faire Maide in his walke, and foorth with he will with a lo­uing countenance repaire vnto her, and in her bosome gent­ly bestowe his murthering horne, and sodainly, (as one ra­uished with cōtentment) he falleth a sléep, by which meanes he is slaine before he recouereth the vse of his force.

The company laughed well to heare this strange Meta­morphosis.

In the ende (quoth Quéene Aurelia) I would Maister Doctor had heard this historie, when he so inuayed against Beautie, perhaps he would haue béene afraide of her ven­geance, séeing her power able to conquere sauadge and wilde beastes.

But the Doctor glad of this aduantage,Euill men care not for conscience, so they haue a colour for their offences. not vnlike the cunning Lawyer y^e buyeth Robin hoodes penniworthes, and yet with some nice forfeitures, threatneth y^e seller with con­tinuall bondage, and many times bringeth back his money, and kéepeth his bargaine, not caring for his Conscience, so that he haue a colour for his offence: or as the wisest sort of Atheists, that (liue as though they hoped neither after Hea­uen, nor feared Hell) yet confesse God with their mouth, be­cause the contrary would make them hated of men: so he by this tale found out both a warrant to maintaine his former blasphemie, and to excuse his present follie in Loue: And to authorise either: Madame (quoth he) the inchaunted Beast approueth mine opinion of Beauties power, and his Death is a greater witnesse of her cruelty, then is Doctor Mosseni­go, The force of Beautie. who confesseth that men in vaine prescribe remedies for the Affected, or receites to preserue men from the infections of Beautie.

You are welcome vnder our Lée [quoth Aluisa Vechio.]

But to take away all hope of good intertainment, (quoth Catharina Trista) no,No affliction, but hath his remedie. no, Maister Doctor, you deceiue your selfe: Beauty, neither retaineth the power nor poyson which you speake of, and with you, Ouid and all the amo­rous Poets are mistaken: who say, Affection ariseth from Beautie, and not of the frée will of man. But say you all what you please, good foresight will contrary your opinions. There is no sore, but hath his salue: no gréefe, but hath his remedie: nor no danger, but may be forstoode, either by prai­er or good indeuour.

Indéede (quoth Faliero) Socrates altred his inclination by studie of Philosophie:Examples to be regarded. The Niniuites preserued their Cit­tie by praier: and Virbius doubled his life by mastering of his disposition.

Floradin be witched with the loue of faire Persida, Idlenes nouri­sheth, and ex­ercise remedi­eth loue. his déere fréend Pericles Wife, worte in a Table booke, fie Flo­radin, fie, she is thy fréend Pericles Wife: and so often as idlenes presented him with this passion, he read his writ­ten remembrance: and by some honest exercise, remoued his imagination.

This is not your day Maister Doctor (quoth Soranso) I beléeue there is some vnkindenes betwéene Saturne and Venus, by the enuious aspect of some other Plannet this howre.

It may be (quoth the Doctor) by the flatterie of Mercurie, Flatterie, the e­nemie of truth. who is euermore enemy to the plainenes of truth.

Well (quoth Quéene Aurelia) let vs leaue this by-mat­ter, and consider better of Ismaritos Metamorphosis, me thinkes it prophesieth much mischaunce to an olde widdow, which marieth a yong man, and no great pleasure to y^e yong maried Bacheler.

Mariage com­mended be­tween an olde woman and a yong man.O good Madame, say not so (quoth Soranso) for in this fortune, lyeth a yonger Brothers welfare: and the cause that maketh happinesse accompanie olde women to their Graue.

Reproofe, &c.It may well be to their Graue (quoth the Doctor) but it bringeth sorrow into their House, and maketh their life more impleasant then death: and if Soranso followe this course, perhaps his day will be no better then Doctor Mossenigos.

Quéene Aurelia smiling, saide, she feared this contenti­on would bring the company to hell gates. Yet quoth she, in that I imagine the way wil be pleasant, I licence you to per­seuer in your purpose.

Vpon which warrant (quoth Soranso) to maintaine that to be true,Defence, &c. which I haue already alleadged in the commenda­tion of this estate in Mariage. This further reason (in my conceite) you will neither disallowe, nor the maried couple shal haue cause to mislike: which is where a fresh yong gen­tleman, either of small liuing, or farre spent with lustines,A good ex­change of Marchandise. lightes of a rich olde widdow, for that both their desires in this fortune shalbe satisfied. He shall haue plenty of Coyne, the onely Grace he lacked, and she the possession of a goodly Personage, the chéefest Iewel▪ she loueth: which exchange of Marchandise cannot chuse but continue their liking, and raise much contentment.

Clean contrary (quoth the Doctor) for y^e follies of a yong man is sufficiently punished, by marying an olde woman: [Page]and the sinnes of an olde widdowe are fully plagued, in mat­ching with a yong man: for that (contrary to your suggesti­on) neither can inioye the cause of their Mariage, without annoyance to their mindes: for his liking is fastned on her riches, which she will not but by necessitie leaue: and her loue is setled on his person, which for her pleasure he disdai­neth to punish.The euils in an olde widdow. The vnfortunate yongman knowes not what gréefe he ioynes to his gaine, in matching with an olde widdow, till that experience breakes them foorth in sighes: If his wife be rich, she will looke to gouerne: if she be poore, he is plagued both with beggerie & bondage: if she be proud, she will hide her abilitie to maintaine her pompe: if she be te­stie, he is forst to patience: if she be ielous, he can hardly in­dure her rages. And to conclude, if the olde doting widdowe be frée from one of these faultes, she is tied to forty euils of lesse sufferance: for if her Husband commaund her will, she straightwaies saieth, her other Husband was more kinde: if he chaunce to dine from home, she willes him to sup with his harlots: if he spend beyond her allowance, thus she re­uiles him: A Begger I found thee, and so thou wilt leaue me.

To chastice her talke, setteth an edge of her tung: to suf­fer her in her rage, maketh her railings irreuocable.

By your words, Maister Doctor [quoth Lucia Bella] the wife is the greatest cause of this contention, aad yet in com­mon opinion, the Husband is most blamed.

Madame, you are too hastie in an aduauntage, I ment no such partiallity (quoth the Doctor)

Yea Madame (quoth Bargetto) Maister Doctor is now so conquered, as his tung is the Trumpet of your pleasure.

It is so (quoth the Doctor) to sound out those thinges which are true:PLATOES Hell in Mari­age. and in truth the yong Husband often times maketh the euils good in déedes, which the olde wife vseth but in words: for no longer then she féedeth him with Coyne, shall she enioy his companie: if she rob not her Children to inrich him, she shal lack no froward lookes, nor fowle vsage: if she put him in possession of her liuing, he straightwaies dispossesseth her of his loue, for hauing what he sought, he will els where be enamoured. And vprightly to speake, she [Page]lacketh neither occasion to lament, nor cause to be inraged: for who is so patient, as can dissemble her vnsufferable pas­sions? both to bée spoyled of her liuing, and to bée eryled from that shée loueth. And in very truth, so egall are their euills, as it were a hard matter to iudge, who deserueth least blame, or most excuse: she reproacheth him of Beggerie, whoredome, Vnthriftines, ill vsage: and of the ruine both of berselfe and her Children. He blameth her of olde age, ielo­sie, curstnesse, scowlding: and for hiding of her goods, which he hath bought, with dooing iniurie vnto his person. If shée be determined to be merie, he (scornfully) telleth her, that it is as sightly, for a toothelesse Mare to eate Marchpane, as for such a wrinckled Mumpes to fall a bylling. If he come in well disposed, and affably intreateth her, she calleth him dis­sembling hipocrite, & saith, he saluteth her with his tongue, but his heart imagineth of his minions abroade: shée run­neth to the neighbors to complaine: in the meane while hée sendeth her corne to the Market, and her cattel to the Faire. If the friends of good will, or neighbours of charitie, la­bour to accord their contention (as she imagineth to shame him) shée thundreth out a thousand iniuries that hée dooth her: for her owne praise, she saith, that of pure loue she ma­ried him with nothing: and to reproach him, she sweares, hée hath spent her substance, and hateth her person: To shew her owne good huswiferie, shée tels that she worketh all day at her Distaffe: and to blase his vnthriftinesse, she she weth how he plaieth away her gaines at Dice: she crieth out, that (perforce) hée taketh what hée openly findeth, and priuilie stealeth what she secretly hideth.

These, and many moe complaints, she preferreth against her husband, with the vehemencie of a womans passion.

Her husband, that knoweth how to bée reuenged in déedes, (for his owne credit) is more milde in words: hée layeth all these blames vpon her owne crooked disposition: who though she be so olde, as a man can hardly loue her, yet with a cankred ielous froward nature, shée would force a man to hate her: but what remedy, since his fortune was so hard? hée would starue her with patience: and onely adde [Page]this S [...]age to his L [...]ta [...]: A praua muliere, good Lord, [...].

These dr [...]e scoffes sets her heart in a light fire, and (saue that she hath not so many colours like) vnto Iris, thundreth out the venome of her cankred Spirit in reuilings, and ray­lings against her husband: and (to say truth) her case is to be pittied, as much as her tongue is to be blamed: for iniutie is not so grieuous vnto [...], as to sie his aduersarie soothe his trespasse with an honest [...]ho [...].

But to my purpose,A great cause of impatience. her husband crosseth her with a qui­et answere: you may sée friends, saith hée, wilde fire will burne in water, drink will make the Dropsie drie, and mild­nes in me, moueth madnesse in my wife: by her example here you sée my life at home, as tedious as hell: then (perhaps) some [...]lou [...]ing Marchant saith: like enough, and the she di­uell weareth the houres.

Thus with their owne mischiefes, they grieue their friends, delight their foes, and weary their Neighbors, in ac­cording their debates: and if they be in the morning quieted, and goe home: in peace, at Noone like enemies they are redy to throwe the house out at the window: a slut like the furie of lothsomnes, shal bring in dinner, because the ielous wife, dare not trust her husband with any maide that is hansome: the husband offended; throweth the Platters at her head, and asketh if she meane to p [...]yson him: the wife taketh pep­per in the nose, and saith, if he had not married her, he would haue béen glad of the worst morsell there.

The husband replieth, that if he had not béen so mad, the diuell would not haue married her.

Then beginneth the olde Musick, tu [...]ed perchance with a rap or two of the lippes, and when they haue brawled their fill, shée runneth and bemoneth her selfe at her neigh­bours, and hée goeth and maketh himselfe merrie with his Mistresses.

In sooth,Defence, &c. master Doctor, it féemeth to mée (quoth Sir So­ranso) that you haue very substancially proued my opinion: for Mariage equally deuideth her blessings, and mischan­ces, betwéene the maried: and as farre as I can sée, neither [Page]of these knoweth, who hath the better or worse bargen: there are raylings and vnquietnesse of both sides but what of that, pleasure is best seasoned with paine: and though they sometimes iarre at home, they agrée well when they are seperated among their neighbours. And although you haue stretched their debates, vpon the rack of vengeance: yet at aduenture, I wish my selfe no worse bestowed, then murie an olde wealthy Widdow, I doo not thinke, but by good v­sage, to continue her first affection giuen, euen vnto dir very Graue.

You will kill her with kindnesse, (quoth Maria Belochie.)

Yea, Madam, (quoth Soranso) if her nature be so froward, as to die with good vsage.

In déede Ladyes quoth the Doctor, there are some men, that entertaine their olde wiues, with such a faire showe of flattering loue, as they be witch them euen to their latter gasps. But at what rate dooth she purchase this kindenesse? O euen with the vndooing of her selfe and Children: yea,A most wicked pollicie. and which is worse, it is the pollitie of Father in lawes, to dandle the infancie of their wiues Children, in the lap of ig­norance, to this ende, that being of lawfull age, they may with lesse fetches boguile them of their liuing: so that the vn­fortunate child knowes not whether he may more bemone his losse of liuing, or lacke of good bringing vp:Senecas opini­on that chil­dren were bet­ter to be dead borne then ig­norant of good letters. and in my iudgement, of both the euils, want of education is the grea­test: for learning and vertue purchaseth liuing, and liuing corrupteth, but coyneth not good conditions: and as Se­neca saith, libertie without learning is a bondage to the minde: and further, the Child were better to be dead borne, then barren of good Letters, for that ignorance is a graue which burieth life.

Master Doctor (quoth Quéene Aurelia.) me thinketh your words doo too much wrong to the wife, though they can­not sufficiently blame the husband. I graunt that father in lawes estéeme their owne profites, before their wiues chil­drens preferments: but yet (I suppose) Nature dooth di­rect the naturall Mother, to eye their good bringing vp,Things that are best estee­med. who with much sorrowe brought them foo [...]th: for as the [Page]Prouerbe géeth) things that are dearely bought, are of vs intirely beloued, and nothing is more dearely purchased, then what is attained with the hazard of life, which venter the Mother maketh, before she is assured of her Childe: then this crueltie to wards her Children, to satisfie the wil of her second husband, will make indifferent men holde her an vn­naturall Mother, whether her husband estéeme her a dutiful wife or no.

Oh good Madam,Reproose, &c. quoth the Doctor, how can the hen suc­cour her Chickens, when she her selfe is at the mercy of the Kite? how can the Conny preserue her Rabets, when the Ferret is in possession of her Burrowe? and how may the vnfortunate Mother, Foster her shiftlesse Children, either as she should or would, whē her fancy or folly hath enthral­led her to a second husband, whose power is to direct, and dis­pleased, to check? This seueritie of Father in lawes, hath bred much diuision in mariage: but stil the quarrels are con­cluded, with the detriment of the Children: for the vnhap­pie wife, is bound to one of these two euils, either to agrée to the tyrannizing of her entrailes,A hard extre­mitie. or to yéeld to her owne continuall sorrow and quietnesse: and where the case is so desperate, it may be lamented, but not wondred at, that ne­cessitie breake the boundes of nature.

To stay this mischiefe (quoth Helena Dulce) honorable is the custome of Spaine, An honorable custome of Spaine. where the vertuous dame holdeth the second mariage, a retrograding of her reputation, & a wrong to her deceased husband: for by this staiednesse, shée is in pos­session of her libertie, and hath the disposing of her liuing.

I holde this precise custome (quoth Dondolo) more pro­fitable then necessarie: for the penance were too hard, yea, vnpossible to bée indured, that the lusty young Widdow, should bée constrained to a Virgins chastitie, for as Ouid deuineth:

But if the aged widdow, could liue within this lawe, it would bring honor to her yeares, and happinesse to the end of her life. What better husbands may shée haue, then her owne Children, whome she may both commaund and con­troule,Meete hus­bands for aged widdowe. whose dueties are to labour in her causes, and to vn­burden her heart of cares? And when shée departeth this life, where may shée better dispose her liuing, then vpon her owne Children, whome to relieue, she is coniured by na­ture, and to bring vp in good nurture, bound in conscience: But from the beginning so rife hath béen the dotage of wid­dowes, that when their féeble legges faintely supporte their consumed bodies, when at high noone, their mistie eyes hardly discerneth the high way, and when (forst) through lack of téeth, they swallowe their meate, their lippes not­withstanding, take delight in kisses, and their mindes thirst after wantonnesse.

Mens follies are as great as Womens simplicities, in this ouersight in dotage (quoth Quéene Aurelia) but I think it necessarie, that héere wée stay our iourney, least wée en­ter into hell before we be a ware: and therefore Segnior Fa­britio, I pray you let vs haue your sentence, to ouerrule this question.

Madam (quoth Fabritio) the euill of this inequallitie in Mariage, is both so auncient and so common in vse,Experience is a iudgement it selfe. as there néedeth no other iudgement, then experience of our neigh­bours mischaunces, but to succour the iniured Children,A worthy law, made by La­ertius. I would that one of Laertius lawes were common to the whole world: which is, where the Tenant sued his Lord, Seruant his Master, or the Childe his Parents, that Iud­ges themselues, should forth with looke into the Processe, and determine the same, for it is vehemently to be supposed, that these sutes are forced vpon vehement iniuries, other­wise the Seruant would feare to sue his Master, who hath pówer moderately to chasten him: the Tenant would quake to vnquiet his Lorde, who hath many meanes to crosse him, and without whose grace hée may neuer liue in peace. Shame and duety (in any sufferable matter) would make the childe forbeare to molest his Parents, for (but [Page]where his cause is knowne) Reporte like a two edged Knife, would (besides his iniurie) wound him with blame, and omission of dutie. Therefore, where the least of two dangerous euils, foreeth the aboue said to sue, it is much to be lamented, that delay, countenance of friends, corruption with bribes, and other supporters, which the rich hath, should torment the poore complainant, more then his origi­nall iniurie.

Your reason is but iust, quoth Quéene Aurelia, and the rest of the companie: who wearie with the multitude of the recited mischances, here broke off the disputation, and went and reposed themselues in the great Chamber.

The speeche which passed the sixt night at Supper, betweene Segnior Philoxenus, and his Honourable Guestes.

ACcording to the order of Merchaunts, who at the latter enoe of the yeare, suruey their accountes, to sée what fortune and mischaunce they haue receiued through the whole yeare past. Segnior Philoxenus (towards the latter ende of Supper) smilinglie demaunded an ac­count of the benefite of the chosen companies sixe dayes Disputation.

Sir (quoth Soranso, It is no stri­uing against the streame. with a modest merrie countenance) we are like to present you a Banckrupts reckoning, who the longer he occupieth, the worse he thriueth: so wée these sixe dayes, haue trauailed to finde out a way, to the Para­dise in mariage, and euery day we haue béen further and fur­ther off, of our determination, one day we thought that the wealthy matches of Parents would haue spéeded our iour­ney, but there, lack of loue in the Children, cast vs behinde hand: another day, we imagined that frée choyce in the chil­dren, would haue directed vs to happinesse in marriage: but want of maintenance and frowardnes in the parents, mar­red this match. In lofty loue we found danger: in base loue lothesomnesse and inconstancie: and where there is inequa­litie of yeares, fume and smoke of hell: so that now wée [Page]shall be driuen to renounce our profession: and run away with the Banckrout, least (if he stay, as he is chopped vp in pryson) so we, if wée procéede any further be drowned in the riuer Stix.

If you frauaile with as much pleasure, as you report your aduentures with ease, quoth Segnior Philoxenus, I wonder but a little though error carried you to hell gates: but to incourage you to perseuer in your first purpose, let this comfort you: that things when they are at the worst, begin againe to amend. The Feauer giueth place to health, when hée hath brought the pacient to deaths dore. The Bée, when he hath left his sting in your hand without danger may play with your eye lidde: so, when all the incon­ueniences of mariage, are in your eares, you may very well receiue her into your heart:The thriuing vnthrift proues the best hus­band. and to conclude your benefite with your owne example, there is no such husband as the vnthrift, when he fasteneth vpon the world: for in spending of other mens goods he learned how to spare his own, when he gets them: so in the pleasant beating out of these incon­ueniences, you knowe what maketh mariage bitter, and the griefe known, the remedy is easie.

With your fauour, Sir, quoth Dondolo, to bée sicke is common to all men, but to restore to health, vnder God, is the office of the Phisition: so wée all knowe by our owne trauaile, the infirmities of mariage, but to finde out the bles­sings, must procéede from your sound directions: which fa­uour to obtaine we are all earnest suters.

Your request is so iust, quoth Segnior Philoxenus, that if I were able (as I am not) to better your iudgements, I would not be daintie in this pleasure: but for that the more the opinions are, in the end, the more profound the sentence is: I wil too morrowe (in part, to satisfie your demaunde) ioyne with you in your ordinarie swéete exercise. Perchance you haue ended all the inconueniences in the olde yere, and I may begin the new yeare, in helping to bloome the bles­sings of mariage.

Quéene Aurelia and the rest of the company, affectio­nately thanked Segnior Philoxenus for this high fauour: [Page]and so rose from the Table, who after a little pausing, dan­sing and deuising, at their pleasures, went vnto their lod­gings.

LIke as when the royall Armie, lies in­camped before a Towne of warre, the sound of Trumpets, noyse of Drums, and neying of Horses, dooth awake the Souldiors & Citizens, before Aurora bée willing to leaue the swéet embracements of her husband Tithon: so, euen with the departure of the day star, in honour of the New yeare, the Trumpets, Drummes and Flutes, sounded through euerie small passage, into the lodgings of Segnior Philoxenus Pal­lace, such shril salutations, as the company enuying the con­fusion of night, broad waking, attended the mornings light, to apparell themselues: who in their most braue and sum­ptuous aray, by nine of the clock, made the great Chamber resemble a faire Garden in Maye. In the imbroderies of whose Garments, Flowers and fancies, were so natural­ly and artificially wrought: some of Pearle, some of golde, some of Bugle, euery one according to their owne humor: moreouer, euery Gentlemans head was armed with his mistresses fauor, and euery Gentlewomans hart, was war­med with her seruants affection.

In the most soueraigne place of the great Chamber, Ia­nus, God of Time (as the Poets faine) was hung vp in the [Page]likenes of a Serpent, winding his body into a circle & hol­ding his tayle in his mouth,The yeare en­deth and be­ginneth in [...] selfe. expressing vnder this figure his reuolution, who through his continual motions inuironing and compassing the world, retourneth into himselfe, and en­deth & beginneth in himselfe: and in ioyfull token of the new yeare, he was garnished with many swéete flowers, gar­landes and deuices: some artificiall liuely counterfeited. Segnior Philox. although he hated superstitions ceremonies, & shund them, yet he honoured ancient laudable customes,Ancient [...]u­stomes are to be kept. and kept them: who according to the custome of the coun­trey, presented euery one of his guestes with a rich newe yeares gift, which explayned some morall vertue.The vertues of the mind are more glorious then any out­ward garment. Custome in I­talie in giuing of new yeares giftes, contrary to the custome of England. The originall of new yeares gistes. Among the rest he gaue his sister Quéene Aurelia, a fayre playne ta­blet, which opened, represented the picture of a fayre Ladie, garnished with many precious stones: couertly expressing thereby, that gorgious apparell was but base and counter­feit, in respect of the braue vertues of the minde. This order the Italians vse, the best giueth new yeares giftes to his in­feriour friends, and in England cleane contrary: the tenant giueth his Lord, the mean Gentlemen to Knights, Knights to Barons, Barons to Earles, Earles to Marquesses, and Dukes to their soueraigne Prince. But it séemeth the En­glishmen, obserue this custome more néere the originall then the Italians: for the founders thereof were the auncient Romanes, who bound their Knights the first day of Ianuarie, in the Capitoll, to present their new yeares giftes, to Cae­sar Augustus, were he absent, or present: but so many coun­tries, so many customes. And (to my purpose) Segnior Phi­loxenus, thus bountifully solemnized the vse of his owne Countrey. This memorable courtesie perfourmed, Segnior Philoxenus, with some of the grauer company, went before vnto the Chappell, and Quéene Aurelia and her attendants, followed with such a glittering shew, as the Priests néeded no other Tapers to sée to say seruice by, then the glimmering reflexions of the Gentlewomens eyes, and the precious stones they wore in their Iewels: and in my opinion, God was better pleased, and more honoured with the brauerie of the company, then with the babling and ceremonies of the [Page]Priest: who in the honour of the New yeare, sets forth his relikes to the best shew: By that time Seruice was ended, and the company returned: the Tables were furnished with many daintie dishes, to wreake her hunger of some fewe whereof, Quéene Aurelia tooke her Royal place, and the rest of the companie, as they pleased. This Dinner was spent in discourse of certaine ceremonies and olde rites vsed in times past, in the celebrating of God Ianus feast, too tedious, and (withal) impertinent for this discourse.

When dinner and a little other pausing talk was ended, the company arose: and Quéene Aurelia with the reuerent Salutations of the whole troupe, retyred into her owne Chamber, till the howre of Disputation sounded.

About which time, shee, with Segnior Philoxenus, and the rest of her Attendants, entered into a most delicate Ban­quetting house,Segnior Phi­loxenus ban­quetting house where, vpon the walles, in so good order, and representation of Nature, were painted al maner of fruits, Flowers, Vines, Arbors, and causes of pleasure, either in Orcharde or Garden: as a man (without blushing) might haue aduentured to gather vpon the bare Walles, a Pome­granate, a cluster of Grapes, a Gilliflower; or such like: had not the dead of Winter reaued the likelihoode, that they should be perfect.

After Quéene Aurelia, and the rest of the company, had taken their places, in this earthly Paradise: Segnior Philox­enus (secretly) willed the Eunuch to chaunt out the prayses of Hymen: who obeying this Charge, tuned his Lute, and to aswéete Note, sung this following Sonet.

This Sonet ended and well considered;Among the iust, promise is kept. Sir (quoth Quéene Aurelia to Segnior Philoxenus) to be reuonged of the iniurie of our former disputations, who haue paynted Mariage with a thousand inconueniences, I beséech you, & binde you by your promise to blazon the blessings and excel­lencie of this sacred institution: that she who is diuine,To praise or blame, is a qua litie of wit, but to direct is a work of iudge­ment. may haue her due prayses, and we that are ignorant, may know how to receiue her benefites, and with the same to honour her.

Madame (quoth Segnior Philoxenus) you charge mee be­yond my promise, and binde me to an impossibilitie: I pro­mised but to ioyne with this quick witted company in opi­nion, which I am ready to accomplish.

To blaze the excellencie of Mariage, is a worke of no great difficultie, because her vertues illustreth the same through the whole worlde, but to direct the maried is a la­bour of Arte, wit, and experience: in the first wherof I am ignorant, in the second vnpersect, and to the third a straun­ger: so that as I am sory to iniure your expectation, so am I loth to expose my iusufficient iudgement.

Sir (qd Quéen Aurelia) if we were not assured of a liberal contentment, in contemplating of your waighty censure,We haue in te­rest in another mans vertues. we would receiue your modest refusall, for iust excuse. But for that we haue all an interest in your vertues, & you should be enemy to your owne honorable commendation in kéeping of [Page]them close prisoners in your breast (although you be Lord of the Pallace) yet I,Princes com­mandements must be obeied as Souer aigne of the Ciuill Pleasures, commaund you to giue ceremonies a disgrace, and sincerely to obey my will.

Madame (quoth Segnior Philoxenus) so strickt is your charge,Of the excel­lencie of Ma­riage. as I must aduenture of this waighty labour, ho­ping, that as by authoritie you commaund my opinion, so by the motion of some one of your vertues, you wil pardon my errours.

Vpon which incouragement, to obey your will, I say, and approue by sacred authoritie, that this holy institution of Mariage was erected by God,Mariage insti­tuted before the fall of A­dam, by God in the carthly Paradise. in the earthly Paradise, before the transgression of Adam, when hee ioyned him to Eue, with these words of blessing, Increase, multiplie, and replenish the earth. Againe, after Adams fall, and the de­luge: to streng then his first institution, God commanded the good Patriarch Noah, to in crease and multiplie the earth anew. Moreouer, God would haue no more women then men,A confirmatiō of the first in­stitution by God. in his Arke, to shewe there should be a Sympathie in number, as wel as a gréement in loue betwéene man & wife: for if the one might lawfully haue many Wiues, and the o­ther many Husbands: How should this expresse commaun­dement of God be vnuiolated? You shall be two bodies in one flesh, Man and wife are two bo­dies and but one flesh. and no more.

Compare the ioy, honour, and reuerence, giuen vnto Mariage, by the delight that procéedeth frō any other cause, and you shall sée her gleame like a blazing Comet,The ioy of ma­riage shineth a­boue all other delights. and the o­ther but twinckle as an ordinary starre.

Gorgeous and rich apparell delighteth the Gazers eye: and (perhaps) offendeth the wearers heart: where Mari­age in homely attyre is euery where honoured, and reaueth vnquiet wandering thoughts,Children are the mostrich Iuels in the world. from the Maried: to abound in riches, is a glorious fortune, but they charge men with a double care, extreame in the getting, and fearefull in the kéeping: the Maried haue as great, or greater riches in their Children.

When the stately Dames of Rome bragged of their Iu­els, Cornelia boasted that hers excelled them all. A Lady of [Page]the company, séeing her set foorth with none that was pre­cious, demaunded where her Iuels were? Yonder quoth Cornelia, and poynted to her children.

When certaine most rare and precious Iewels,This Ioell was her sonne A­lexander. of King Darius, and his wiues, were presented to Olympia, mo­ther of Alexander the Great, she bestowed them vpon her Ladies, as too lowe prised for her wearing, who was conti­nually adorned with a Iewell, in value, as rich as Asia, Af­fryca, The blessing of Children is a double life & Europa. And sure Quéene Olympia, & Lady Cornelia, gloried not in their Iewels, without reason: for golde, and precious stones, set but a glose vpon beauty, when vertuous children giue a new life vnto their parents.

The administration of Iustice, & authoritie,Offices of Iu­stice appertain to the maried. in a common weale, are the proper offices of the maried: for that the care of wife and children, presupposeth them to bee setled: when the vninaried, though their wits be good,The sweete Sympathie be­tween the ma­ried. rayseth a suspition in the wise, that their thoughts are vagrant. The vnmaried hath no agréeable companion to participate of his pleasure, or to lessen his sorrow. The Maried hath a companion of his owne flesh, of his owne will, and of his owne Spirite, so wrought to his owne affection, that betwéene them there is séene two bodyes, and but one thought perceiued: The Ma­ried ioy alike, sorrow alike: are of one substance, one con­cord,Loue to our Parēts, reuerent one wealth, one pouertie, companions at one Boord, and in one Bed. The loue we beare vnto our Parents,Loue to our brethren, na­turall. is (or ought to be) reuerent and dutifull, because they gaue vs life: vnto our Brethren, naturall, because of the priuitie in blood: to our friends, affectionate, by certaine motions and consents of the minde. Notwithstanding,Loue to our friends affecti­onated. that these Loues be thus great, yet are there diuers causes to lessen them.

But bet wéene the maried, no mischance, or infirme for­tune, is cause sufficient of hatred: for none gouerned by rea­son,Loue between the maried ir­rcuocable. is so inhumane, as to malice his own flesh: Cōpare their seueral affections by sorrow, and you shall sée the weakenes of the one, in regarde of the strength of the other. The grea­test mone we make for the death of our Father, Brether,A good meane to trie the loue of the maried. or Friend, appeareth in sighes, or (most vehement) in teares: whereas if we our selues are but a little wounded, we crie [Page]outright: so that by how much we excéede in sorrowing our own mischances,The ring a triall of the loue betweene the maried. aboue another mans: by the same reason, so much we loue our selues more than another. The King that is giuen by the husband, & put on the wiues finger, ought to be of golde, to witnes, that as golde is the most precious of Mettals, so the loue of the maried excéedeth all other loues.

To which effect,Another figure of the ring. Propertius sayth, Omnis amor magnus, sed aperto in coniuge maior: Moreouer, the close ioyning of the ring, is a figure of true vnitie of the maried: betwéene whom there should be no deuision in desire, nor difference in behauiour.Christ was borne of a ma­ried woman. To honour this holy iustitution of God, God would haue his onely begotten sonne, to be borne of a wife, perfectly maried, saue that she was not carnally soyled.

Licurgus the good King of the Lacedemonias, Licurgus lawe for the vnma­ried. so reueren­ced this sacred estate, as he made a Law, that what Lacede­monian soeuer were vnmaried, after the age of thirty & eight yeares, should be chased and hissed out of all publique playes and assemblies, as one vnworthy to be séene: and that in the colde winter, he should (naked) indure the reproches of the people: and withall, was bound to confesse, how he iust­ly suffered that punishmēt, as a Mispriser of Religion, a con­temner of Lawes, and an enemie to nature. The Romanes were not so seuere:The Law of the Romanes, for the vnma­ried. but yet the aged vnmaried, were con­demned (according to their abilitie) to pay vnto the Treasu­rer, for publique vse, a good summe of money.

Plato in his Lawes enacted, that the vnmaried should execute,Platoes lawes for the vnma­ried. no honourable Office, Estate, nor dignitie in the common wealth.

The good Emperour Alexander Scuerus, although he ma­ried rather to giue ende to his mother Mammeas importu­nities: then (as he thought) to begin a more happy life: yet fayre Memmia, his wife, so naturally accorded with his dis­position, as when she died he would often renew his sorrow, and remember her vertues in these wordes.Alecander Sc­uerus loue to Memmia his wife. So great a Trea­sure as I haue lost, a man seldome findeth: Death were gentle if he tooke nothing but that which offendeth: but, oh, he hath reaued the better part of my selfe.

How wonderfully was the loue of Paulina, sage Senecaes [Page]wife, who opened her Veines, not onely,Paulinaes rare loue to her Husband Se­neea. with an intent to accompany him to death, but also with a desire to féele her husbands maner of death.

Quintus Curtius reciteth, that King Darius, with an vn­apauled Spirite,The precious loue of king Darius to his wife. tooke his ouerthrowes by Alexander the Great, the ruine of his kingdome, & the danger of his Royal person: But hauing knowledge of his wiues death, he wept bitterly, shewing by this sorrow, that he loued his Quéene farre aboue his Crowne.

King Admetus, being fore sicke, receiued this answere from the Oracle: that if he liued, his best friend must dye:The deuine loue of king Admetus wife. which when the good Quéene heard, she presently slew her selfe, and in the trembling passage of death, censtantly said: To giue King Admetus life, his Queene and dearest friend doth dye.

Tiberius Graccus finding two Serpents in his chamber,The exceeding loue of Tiberi­us Graccus to­wards his wife. went to the Augurs to knowe what they diuined? Who an­swered, that he was bound to kill the one of these two Ser­pents: if he slew the male he should die himselfe: if he killed the female he should lose his wife: who (murtherer of him­selfe) slew the male, and saued his wife: and so by his rare loue, raised a question, whether his wife were more fortu­nate in hauing such a husband,The wonder­ful loue of Queene Arti­mesia, towards her husband Mausolus. or vnhappie in loosing of him? One of the seuen wonders of the world is an eternall testimonie of the loue which Quéene Artimesia bare to her husband Mausolus, who for to engraue his dead Coarse, e­rected a Sepulchre, so royall and sumptuous, as tooke away the glory of all Princely Toombes before her time, and left no possibilitie for any (in time to come) to excell the same:One of the se­uen wonders of the woilde. but holding this too base a mansion for his kingly heart, she dried the same to pouder, & spicing her wine therwith, she buried it in her owne bowels: & to crowne his fame with an euerlasting memorie, for that y^t ruine of his Sepulchre was subiect to the iniurie of time, with great rewards she encou­raged Theopompus, Theodectes, Naucrites, & Isocrates, foure of the most famous Orators of Greece, to renowme his ver­tues. Among whom,Aul. Gel. in lib. de nocti. aiti. Theopompus (as we reade) receiued the triumph of victory in that learned skirmish.

I could reportè many other authorities of vnseparable Loue betwéene the Maryed: the least of a hundred whereof, would equall the friendships of Titus and Gisippus: or of Damon and Pithias, the two wonders of mens affections. But for that I know the able wits here present, can cloth my naked proofes of the excellencie of Mariage, and of the di­uine Loue betwéene the maried, with many other sounde reasons, I will giue place Madame, that you, and the rest of your Ingenious company, may doo better seruice to the one, and Iustice to the other, desiring that, that which is sayd, may discharge my promise, though not satisfie your expec­tation.

Sir (quoth Quéene Aurelia) if you giue vs good lawes to preserue Loue among the maried, as you haue with pre­cious authorities set forth the excellencie of mariage, and the diuine operations of her blessings, with a ful performāce of your promise, you shall binde vs all to be your Debters.

Madame (quoth Philoxenus) you set me to a very harde taske: the Rose, is Hostesse, as well for the Butterflie as the Bée: the Sunne shineth, both vpon the good and bad: yea, Christ himselfe, was (aswell) Master to a Théefe, as to a true Disciple: Euen so diuine Mariage, cannot haue but some Deuilish Subiects, whome Examples will not feare: much lesse, may Lawes kéepe in vnitie.

I graunt (quoth Quéene Aurelia) the euill are fearelesse of the Law, vntill they bee scourged with the vengeance therof:The Law is a scourge to the euil, & comfort to the good. but the good embrace Lawes, as their Directors in Vertue, and defenders from danger: for whose benefite, I intreate you now, with as large a power, as I lately com­maunded you: that (in this behalfe) you will commit some counsailing Lawes, to our attentiue memories.

Madame (quoth Segnior Philoxenus) to shew that your Vertues haue as great power to commaund me, as your au­thoritie to enioyne me: I will set downe my owne imagi­nations, to preserue (and multiply) Loue, peace, wealth, & Ioye, among the Maried: leauing the same to be perfected, by the hearers better iudgments.

Housholde Lawes, to keepe the Maried in Loue, Peace, and Amitie: Reported by Segnior Philoxenus.

THe satisfaction of fancie, is the sowrce of ioy in Mariage: But, there be many meanes to damme vp the course of delight, betwéene the Maried, if the match be not made, as­well by foresight, as frée choice.

The Office of forsight, is to preuent following mischā ­ces:Mariage con­sisteth as well in foresight, as free choise. and (aduisedly to consider) if present abilitie, wil support an Housholde, and (according to their calling) leaue a por­tion to their posteritie.

In this point, the experience of the Parents, is to be pre­ferred before the rash imaginations of the sonne: for the a­ged Married by proofe know, that in time many accidents of mischance, will hinder the indeuours of the best husbands.

The office of Foresight, is like wise to considrr,Equality in yeeres. of the e­qualitie in yéeres, least the one growing, and the other decli­ning in perfection, after a while repent whē remedie comes too late: the Rose full blowne, séemeth faire for a time, but withereth much sooner then the tender Bud.

It is the office of foresight,Equality in manners. to consider of the equalitie of bringing vp, least a diuersity in manners betwéene the ma­ried, make a deuision of desires: for Spanielles and Curres, hardly liue together without snarling.

And it is the office of foresight,Consent in re­ligion. to sée that there be a con­sent in Religion betwéene the maried, for if their loue be not grafted in their soules, it is like their Mariage will be infir­med, with the defects of the body.

The office of frée choise, is the roote or foundation of Ma­riage,Free choise in satisfaction of Fancie. which consisteth onely in the satisfaction of fancy: for where the fancie is not pleased, all the perfections of the world cannot force loue, and where the fancy delighteth, many defects are perfected, or tollerated among the maried.

When mariage is selemnized, there are many things to be obserued on the parte both of the husband and the wife.

The Husband is to consider,A mans house is a pettie com­mon weale. his house is a petty Commō wealth, whereof himselfe is chéefe, and his seruants Sub­iects: therefore, for the welfare both of himselfe, and house­holde, it is néedefull that he set downe such orders, as God may be glorified, himselfe profitably serued, the good seruant wel rewarded,The office of a Wife. the euil chastened, and the neighbour pleased: And as it is the Husbands office to set downe these orders, so it is the Wiues duetie to sée them executed.

The charge of the Husband,The husbands care apportai­neth to things abroad. is to get abroad for the pro­uision of his householde: and the Wife is bound to spare at home, towards the maintenance of her Children.

The office of the Husband, is to sée his ground tilled, his Cattell cherished, his fences sound, his labourers work, and their wages paide.

The dutie of the Wife is to sée her Garden wéeded,The Wiues charge is hus­wifery within doore. her Vines cut, and in her Orchard her fruit trées pruned: with­in doores her house well ordered, her Maidens busied, her Children instructed, the fréend entertained, and the Tables well furnished. And in this Oeconomie many women haue so excelled, as Socrates affirmeth: that he learned of women more Morall Philosophie,Morall Philo­sophie to be learned by women. then naturall reason of Anaxa­goras and Archelaus: wherein Socrates testifieth no more then their worthy sexe deserueth: for many women gouern their Families with such Prudence, Temperance, Pie­tie, and other commendable vertues, as may well instruct the wisest.

The Husband ought to beware,Lasciuious talke to be shunned of the husband. that in the presence of his wife, he vseth no filthie lasciuious talke: for besides the wit­nes of his owne indiscretion, he maketh her a passage for many an vnhappie thought.

The Wife ought to be nice in occasion of suspition,The wife ought to be nice in cause of suspition. for her husband that sée'th open cause of mistrust, cannot but feare that in secret he receiueth iniurie: and ielowsie though she procéeds from excéeding loue, yet is she the greatest ene­mie of the maried.

The Husband is bound to kéepe his wife in ciuill and comely apparell,Comely appa­rell the Hus­band should giue his wife. as well to make her séeme beautifull vn­to himselfe, as to preuent the reproche of the neighbour: for [Page]this hath béen an ancient custo me among the Romaines, and it is to be feared, that if the Husband breake it to spare his Purse, the Wife will repaire it, though she gage her person.

The Wife that will please her Husband,Cleane linnea commendable in a wife. and make a great showe of a little, though her Gowns he plaine, in her linnen she must be curious and fine: for otherwise, were she attired all in Silke: if her sléeues, Partlet and other Linnen be coorse, torne, or sluttishly washed, she shall neither be prai­sed of strangers, nor delight her Husband.

The Husband after householde iarres,The Husband must beware of sullennes. if the wife séeme to be sorie, he ought not to be sullen: for if she perceiue him of a froward nature, it is like in other such squares, she will be negligent to please him.

The Wife, if she offend her Husband,The wise must be amiable to­wards her hus­band. by some ignorant trespasse, she must please him with a louing countenance: least if he finde her of a crooked condition, he wil take delight to crosse her with continuall foule vsage.

The olde Husband,A law for a yong womans old Husband. is to accompany his yong Wife with graue Matrons, and to set her foorth with costly ciuill attire, that séeing the reuerence & honour that is giuen her for her Husbands grauitie, she wil studie how to please him, though she displese her owue disposition.

The yong wife that hath an olde Husband,A regarde for an olde mans yong wife. is bound to make much of him at home, for the reputation she recea­ueth in his life, and for the wealth she is like to haue by his death: and abroad must be sober in her behauiours, discréete in her talke, and no harkener to yong mens tales, least her owne lightnesse make her openly infamed, where her Husbands imperfections could cause her but to be secretly suspected.

The yong Husband is to beare with his olde wife in her will, as wel for the reuerence due to her yéeres,A regarde for an olde wo­ans yong hus­band. as for the aduauncement the loue bringeth to himself: least the neigh­bours terme his wife an vnfortunate olde woman, and him-himselfe a naughty, froward, vile natured yong man.

The olde wife, to giue excuse to her dotage,A regard for a yong mans olde wife. must in open assemblies, commend her yong husband of modest and [Page]staied gouernement: and secretly to be louingly vsed, must kisse him with Midas lippes: for if she fill not his pursse by faire meanes, with foule intreatie he will be his owne Car­uer: if she complaine, she ioyneth but scorne to her own mis­chance.

Generally,Modest famili­aritie not to be forbidden the wife. the Husband ought not to forbid his Wife, in assemblies modestlie, to intertaine time, in deuising with the better sorte: for in such ielous restraint, he shall leaue a suspition, that he enioyneth her this open pēnance, for some secret trespasse, and so both slaunder himselfe, and infure his Wife.

The wife should haue an especiall care,Light compa­ny to be shun­ned of the Wife. to shun the com­pany of light Women: for the multitude, though they can charge her with no misdemeanour, yet they will condemne her honour, by the knowen euils of her companions.

Many other néedfull directions, may be giuen to preserue vnitie in Mariage (quoth Segnior Philoxenus) too cūbersome for me to reporte, and too tedious for this honorable compa­ny to hear, whose patience I haue already iniured too much: but finding my errour I end my tale, and remaine ready to make satisfaction in some other seruice.

Sir (quoth Fabritio) the end of your tale puts vs in remē ­brance of our dutie and your right, which is for this honou­rable fauour, to remaine your indebted seruants, to embrace your counsels, and to commend (and submit our reasons) to your learned Censure.

It is your fauour and not my merite (quoth Segnior Phi­loxenus)

Sir, (quoth Quéene Aurelia) I wil beare the blame of this daies importuning of you, and you alone shall haue the ho­nour in graunting of my requests, who to y^e former ioyneth this one more fauour, which is, that you conclude this your worthy exercise, with some rare historie at large.

Madame (quoth Segnior Philoxenus) this is the least of your commaundements, considering that Histories make mention of thousands, who in their vnseparable loues haue sounded the excellency of Mariage, wherefore I obey your pleasure.

The worthie, Historie of Phrigius and Pieria Reported by Segnior Philoxenus.

IN the Register of Fame, wherein the Monuments of the vertuous are Cronicled, as presidents for their posteritie, I read, that in the famous Cittie of Miletum in Ionia, as so­ueraigne Prince and Gouernour, there raigned a worthie Duke called Nebeus, who to comfort and support his aged yéeres, had to his Sonne and onely heire, Phrigius, a yong Gentleman of such rare towardliues, as it may be a questi­on, whether he were more beholding to Nature for the per­fections of his body, to Vertue for y^e qualities of his minde, or to Fortune in suffering him to be so nobly borne.

In Myos a neighbour Cittie to Miletum, there was also a Prince of much renowne, named Pythes, whose Daughter and heire was faire Pieria, by whose vertues all Ionia was renowned. The ancient enuie betwéene the Citizens of Mi­letum and Myos, was turned into amitie: and the open war betwéene Duke Nebeus and the noble Pithes, was peceably and honourably ended: All such happie euents, succéeded this following aduenture. Vpon the Festiual day of Diana, the Citizens of Myos, without y^e iniurie of Souldiers, might lawfully repaire to Miletum, to sacrifice to Diana, vpon which safe conduct, with many other Ladies and Gentle­women of Myos, faire Pieria waighted on her Mother to Dianas Temple, whose rare beauty was such, as dazeled the eies of the beholders, like the reflections of a Mirror, placed against the Sunne.

Among many that loued, and fewe or none that sawe pos­sibility of grace, such was the renowne of her chaste disoain, yong Phrigius behelde Pieria with such a setled eye, as Dia­nas Temple shéelded him not against the Arrowes of Loue: but as a wounded Stag at the first séemeth little dismaide: so Phrigius with an vnappalled chéer, returned to the Takes Pallace, and as a pledge of truce, he sent his hart to Myos. [Page]The Ceremonies and Sacrifices of Diana ended, the wars renued, the wonted Massacres, Murthers, Rapines, and outragious cruelties practised by the Souldiers of either part: insomuch as Lawe gaue place to Arnies, equitie to violence, and all publique order was peruerted, and vpon the point to be destroyed. The Captaines of Myos encou­raged their Souldiers of the one part, but the Souldiers of Miletum were driuen to comfort their Captaine with a threatning of disgrace. But ah poore Phrigius, what answere shouldst thou make? to sée thy Souldiers slaine, and thy cit­ties spoyled, without proffers of rescue were dishonourable: to bend thy forces against thy owne hart, were vnnatural: to make the best choise of these two euils, required leasure, and iudgement. And therefore aduisedly to consider of his estate, at this time Phrigius satistied his souldiers with hope of some spéedy venturous exploite, and dangered not his e­nemies, with the proffer of any violence: so y^e either power kept their trenches peaceably, but yet with this indifferent perill, that they attended oportunitie, to make the one con­querors, and the other Captiues: for the long ciuill conten­tion, had now made the estate of either as desperate, as y^e for­tunes of two that haue their substance vpon the chaunce of Dice, the one to haue all, the other to be vndone.

When Phrigius had with stender hope thus quieted the acclamations of the people, he retired himselfe into a solitary Chamber, to be the sole companion of his outragious passi­ons, with whom he thus deuised.

Ah traiterous eyes, betraiers of my whole body, the scourge of Miletum, and enemies of my honour: the ven­geance of Oedipus is too gentle for your iniuries: what doost thou say? oh blasphemous tung, riuall of humanitie, calumner of Beautie, and hinderer of thy Countries peace: thou reprocher of vertue, and Phrigius welfare: know to thy shame, the perfection of my eyes haue constantly behelde Pieria, whose deuine beauties, emblemed in humane shape, dazeleth the yongest sight in Ionia. Then to reuile them thus, thou tirannisiest nature: to demaund why I loue and serue Beautie, thy question is blinde, and deserueth a double [Page]answere: But aye me, though my eyes and loueh aue doone but what is iust, Fortune hath dealt too rigourously with me, to render my hart captiue to his Daughter, who is the riuall of my Father: what hope may I giue to my af­fections? when possibilitie of comfort is taken away: the Parents are readie to sheath their Swoords in one an o­thers entrailes: is it then like the Children shall imbrace a mutuall affection? O no: for though milde Venus consent that they loue, wrathfull Mars will seuer their affection. O cruel Warre, thou art not vnproperly called the scourge of God,The vengance of Warre. for in thée is contained a greater vengeance then might be imagined by man: thou armest the Sonne against the Father, the Vnckle against the Nephewe, the Subiect against his Soueraigne: Thy drinke is blood, thy foode the flesh of men, thy fiers are flming Citties, thy pleasures spoyling of Widdowes, rau ishment of Virgins, subuersion of Lawes and publique benefite: thy Iudges, Tiranny and Iniustice: and where thou remainest, her knowne enemy is not so dangerous, as the fained fréend.

But why exclaime I of Warre, who double Crowned Alexander with the riches of Asia and Affrica? who honou­red Caesar with imperiall triumphes? and rewarded Hanni­ball for the trauailes of his life, with renowne after death? by whom Millions of men are registred in y^e life booke of Fame: and through whome Phrigius giueth expectation of benefite to his Countrey, comfort to his aged Father, and honour to his posteritie.

I receiued my wound in the time of peace, nay in the Temple of Diana, shall I then exclaime of Peace, and vp­braide Chastitie? fowle fall the hart that should moue, and shame woorme the tung that pronounceth such blasphemie: O blessed peace, thou fast chainest Treason, Tiranny Mur­ther, Theft, and Wrath, with all disturbers of common tranquilitie, and in the highest dignities, placest Iustice,The blessings of peace. Pietie, Temperance, Concorde and Loue, with many other Morrall vartues, by whome the lewde are chastened, the good are cherished, and Common weales prosper and flourish. [Page]O Chastitie, thy diuine vertues deserue a better Trumpet, then my iniurious tung: thy excellency is written in the browe of Pieria. And is Pieria the Deputie of Diana? O yes: and Phrigius the seruant of Venus? too true: is it then impos­sible they should agrée in affection? yea sure. O vnfortunate Phrigius, through peace which receiuedst thy wound before Dianas Alter, and by cruell warre art seperated from the Surgion that should cure thée. These sundry conflicts Phri­gius had with his bitter passions, which pursued their aduā ­tage, with such thornie feares, as if he had not béene sudden­ly succoured, by the aduise and comfort of Lord Miletus a fa­uoured Counseller to Duke Nebeus, and an assured fréend to his sonne Phrigius, he had béene like to haue yéelded to dis­paire. Miletus was glad to sée him thus affected, and sorry to beholde him so dangerously afflicted: for in this loue he fore­sawe an end, of the ancient enuie and enmitie, betwéene the Citizens of Miletum and Myos: whose ciuill Fraies had bu­ried more yong men in the Féeldes, then aged in the Chur­ches and Churchyardes. Therefore to confirme his affecti­on, and to comfort him with hope: Lord Phrigius quoth he, to blame your affection, were cruelty and no sound counsell: for you loue Pieria the Paragon of the worlde, to discomfort you with an impossibilitie of her fauour, were clean against the possibilitie of your fortune: for besides that, your person alluringly pleaseth, your authorities commaund: yea Pithes cannot but reioyce, Pieria consent, and all Myos desire is to solemnize this Mariage.

My selfe and the grauer sort of the counsell, will motion the matter to the Duke your Father, who I trust wil holde the affection of his sonne, rather to procéede from the iustice of Diana, then the iniurie of Cupid. Who regarding the ze­lous offering [...] o [...] Pieria, agreed that you should be wounded, that Pieria might haue the honour to cure you, in whose vertues all Ionia hopeth to be blessed. Therefore, to make your affection knowen, in some pleasing Letter, to Pieria cō ­mend your seruice, and to deale with both your Fathers, refer the care to me: How swéete the smallest hope of grace is to a condemned man: or the least word of comfort, from [Page]the Phisition to the infirmed patient: the sodaine change of Phrigius mone, truely manifesteth: who now began to looke chéerefully, and with hope appeased his passions: so that imbrasing Miletus, hée committed his life to the fortune of his discretion: and while his passion was quick, he pre­sented both loue & seruice to Pieria, in this following letter.

THis Letter sealed and subscribed: To faire Pieria, Try­umph after victorie: was deliuered vnto a trustie Mes­senger: who (hauing safeconduit, to passe through both the Armies) in good houre, arriued at Prince Pythes Pallace: and in the presence of her mother & other friends reuerently kissing the same, deliuered Pieria, with Phrigius louing com­mendations, his letter. Who so in the Springtime, in one moment had séene rayne and sunshine, might againe beholde the like change in Pierias troubled countenance: who found no lesse ioy in reading the letter, then cause of wonder, in be­holding the superscription, who (by the consent of Diana, to bring peace into Myletum) was by loue, with the selfe same Arrowe, and at one instant wounded in as déepe affection, as Phrigius: notwithstanding, bound to no desire so much, as to the direction of her parents, she shewed them this let­ter: who wearie of the warres, and embracing this meane of peace, after they had aduisedly considered the contents: to comfort Phrigius, without iniurie to Pierias chast behaui­our in her name, they returned this answere.

This answere sealed, and subscribed, To my Lord Phri­gius: deliuered by the hands, and blessed with the louing countenance of Pieria, was returned to Phrigius, by his own messenger: who, after hée had read and reread this Letter, (not for that the Contents gaue him any assurance of loue: but for because, they commanded an imployment of seruice) he comforted his spirit, with hope, that his indeuour in this charge, should both reaue all doubt of dissimulation, by him, and smoothe Pierias Browe, of Chaste disdayne: and to further a happie ende of the Countries calamitie. In the beginning of Phrigius contentment, Lorde Miletus had so dealt in these affaires, as in short time Duke Nebeus, and Prince Pythes came to parle of peace: and while the coun­sels of either parte, considered vpon the Articles of agrée­ment, safeconduit of Tratick was giuen to the inhabitants of either Citie.

How swéete the friendly incounters, of these ancient ene­mies were: is the office of him, that hath béen scourged with warres:The vertue of Peace. who, though they were but in the estate of repri­ued men, yet the hope of assured peace lightned their harts of former sorrowe, and replenished the place with gladnesse.

Faire Pieria, now safely repaired to the Aulters of Diana: and Phrigus, more of desire, to salute his Mistris, then of zeale to sacrifice, to Chastitie: fayned many deuotions, to visit her Temple: where these Louers, for the reuerence they bare to the place, forbare to encounter in any spéeche of loue: yet if Diana, would haue published their thoughts, she should haue confessed, that the most deuotionate of them both, in their hearts, honored Iuno, in the eye of her owne I­mage and aulters. But Diana, though she be the Soueraigne of single Nimphes: yet is she friend to Iuno, and the Chast Married: and only enemie, to Venus and the wanton sort: so that she tooke in worth, this light trespasse: yea, held her selfe honoured, that her sacred Temple, should be the origi­nall cause of Myletum and Myos peace and amitie: and the ende of their auncient enuie, and enmitie. Wherefore, to conclude the begun agréement, she sent Concorde and Cha­ritie, to chayne vp grudge and dissention.

Duke Nebeus and Prince Pythes, fréed from the vexation of these furies, with affable and friendly intertainment, rea­soned of their affayres: and while the Parents parled of their common profit: the children, vpon lawfull oportuni­ties, deuised of their priuate loues: but yet with such a dutiful regarde of their friends consent, that although their hearts were linked together, by frée choyce, the clapping of hands was referred to the foresight of Parents: who burying for­mer iniuries, in the caue of obliuion, made an Edict of Ami­tie, sealed,The power of vertuous loue. & strengthned, with the mariage of Phrygius and Pieria, Heires of eithers renowne and dignitie. Behold here the worke of loue, grafted in the honorable harts of the ver­tuous. The wrath and stormes of war, is turned to calme and temperate peace: the blossoms of enmitie are altred in­to fruits of amyty: and the roote of mallice growne to the trée of pittie. The Nobles in honor of this mariage, lauisht out their treasure, in al their triumphes and showes to be in good equipage. The meaner Gentlemen, by excéeding cost, learned by experience, how afterward to spare. The Citi­zens with giftes of great imprize, presented their dutiful af­fections. The learned eternised this mariage peace, in tables of memorie. The Cleargy song Himnes of ioy, the common people rung the Belles, and euery sort shewed some token of delight. So that Phrigius and Pieria, after the deathes of their aged fathers, were crowned with the dignities of My­letum and Myos, and all their happie life, were honored with these acclamations of their subiects. Liue, blessed Princes: the appeasers of Iupiters wrath, by whome War, the Monster of humanitie, is fast chayned: and peace the soueraigne of morall vertues, Triumpheth in the Capitals of Ionia: liue blessed prin­ces, and long enioy the hearts of your subiects: In your vertues who haue multiplied wealth, and to doe you seruice are readie to spend their liues.

This zeale and reuerence of their subiects, Phrigius and Pieria many yeres possessed, betwéene whom there was such equallitie in disposition, as fortune knew not, by any acci­dent of ioy, or mischance, how to seuer their desires. And when the time came, that the heauens (enuying the glorie of [Page]the earth) in possessing this diuine couple, charged nature to render their right. Who obaying the will of Ioue, sent sickenes to summon both Phrigius and Pieria, and licensed death to doe his worst. And (as there yet remaineth an opi­nion in Miletum) as their loues began in one houre, so their liues ended in one moment: whose spirits Metamorphosed into white Turthes, tooke their flight towards that heauen­ly Paradise. Where I wish al faithfull louers, & this louely company, abiding places.

Segnior Philoxenus, by the vertue of this dayes exercise, the onely trauell of his learned wit, so raysed the hearts of the companie, with the desire of Mariage, that Lucia Bella, who, in the beginning of Christmasse, was determined to haue béene a vestall Nunne, now confessed that they were enemies to Nature, & not worthy the society of men, which scandalised, or scorned this sacred institution. The rest of this honorable company, by plausible spéeches, confirmed Lucia Bellas opinion, or by silence shewed a willing consent. And to conclude the exercise, (quoth Quéene Aurelia,) Seg­nior Philoxenus, your swéet vertues, haue described so deuine a Paradice, as our soules cannot but long after this holy in­stitution, and our hearts honour your perfections, by whose bounty this company is not onely highly intertained, but by your most precious treasures richly inriched. Madam (quoth he) the vertue you speake of, belongeth to mariage: the be­nefit to this gracious assembly: and the bare words, to Phy­loxenus. Such bare words (quoth Fabritio) deserue to be re­gistred among the life déeds of memorie. Vpon this iudge­ment, Quéene Aurelia arose, and the company performing the office of reuerent curtesie, returned into the great cham­ber to salute some other of the New yeres Pleasures.

¶ The Deuice of a stately show, and Maske, the seuenth night, by Segnior Philoxenus, to honour Queene Aurelia, and the other Ladies and Gentlewomen.

VPon New yeares day at night, about nine of the Clock, in an inclosed place in the great hall: after Quéene Au­relia, and her chosen attendants, had danced certaine solemne [Page] Almaines, appeared a high Mountain, the Forrtestery wher­of was of faire Bay trées, Pomegranate, Lymons, Oren­ges, Date trées, and other fruites of most pleasure: among the Mossy rockes appeared Snailes, Lysards, Moles, frogs, Greshoppers, and such like vnuenimous vermin, and by the fountaines which run aslant the side of the Mountaine, Ly­ons, Vnicorns, Elephants, Camelions, Camels, and other beastes of honor, as if they were appointed by Nature, to garde those sacred streames, from being troubled with the rascall multitude of Cattell, which domesticall desart was perfected with such art, as nature confessed her excellent cū ­ning to be vanquished by mans industrie. This Mountaine which resembled some wildernes in Arabia, dewed with the plesant springs of Affrica, by a stil motion, remoued towards the vpper end of the Hall, into the full presence of Quéene Aurelia, and the most stately company. In the midst of this Mountaine was an Arbour of swéet Eglentine, intercour­sed with Roses, and fully shadowed with y^e spreading bran­ches of the purples Vine: in which vpon a stately throne sate Diana attired all in white, and at her féete were the nine Muses, clothed in seuerall colours, according to their seuerall qualities, sounding heauenly harmony, hoth with voice and instrument: out of this arbor sprang a Bay trée, in which was the Hyen, which at pleasure being both Male and Female, expressed the full power of vertue: who though she hath the forme and habit of a woman, yet is her essentiall substance compounded of both kindes. At the foot of this hill was the Monster Enuy armed with fire and sword, to hin­der their passage, which aduentured to clime the Mount: a Forrest Nimph clad all in Flowers, in a short spéech decla­red, that Diana and the Muses, who in the golden age had their Pallaces in the Forrests, Mountaines and Riuers of pleasure, throughout the whole worlde: now by the iniurie of time, were driuen to their Sanctuary of Parnassus, at the foote whereof the Monster Euny kept, to hinder the passa­ges of such as attempted with their renowne, to set those Ladies at libertie: who hearing by Fame, the glory of this honorable company, were ariued by hope, that the vertue of [Page]some of the troupe, should redéeme them from captiuitie, and therefore, she summoned the knights present, to make triall of their valors, and the Ladies of their vertues: which said, she retired back into the mountaine: the gentlemen and la­dies, hauing a cunning foreknowledg of the intent of this show armed themselues, with sundry attempts to ouercome this mōster. Soranso, Dondolo, Ismarito, & Faliero, drew their rapiers, & assailed Enuy, but dry blowes auailed not, so that they were conquered, & committed to the gayle of Tedious­nes. Maria Belochie, Franceschina Sancta, Lucia Bella, Helena Dulce, and other Ladies, and damosels, indeuored to charme him, with the swéet sound, and heauenly impressions of Mu­sick. But Enuy more warie then Argus, and lesse pittifull then the tormenters of hell: the first wherof, was ouercome with Inachus Oten Pipe: the other moued to ruth with Or­pheus passionate Musick (to shew himselfe composed of all the vennom of hell) could not bée conquered, by the sharpe swords of the knights, nor would not be intreated with the sugred harmony of the faire Ladies: but amidst this Mon­sters Triumphes, there was a voyce heard in the Moun­taine: Non vi, sed virtute: whereupon, Quéene Aurelia, with a Myrrour, deuised by Segnior Philoxenus, peaceably made towards Enuy, which monster, presuming of his force, lif­ted his Club against this vertuous Dame: who, by the re­flections of the Concaue Superficies, of this Myrrour, daun­ted with the feare of his owne weapon, imagining that hée stroke himselfe, recoyled back with such haste, as he fell downe: whereupon, Segnior Philoxenus, feasing on his club,Enuy is mur­dered with his own weapon and laying him on therewith, and: As Phallaris did to Peril­lus: die with the weapon thou preparest for other.

In triumph of this glorious victory, Diana sent down the Nimph Chlora, to salute Quéene Aurelia, with this Present: which was a shielde, wherein was quartred, foure seuerall honors.

• The first. VERT: A looking Glasse of Christall.
• The second. AZVRE: A payre of Ballance Argent.
• The third. OR: A Pyller of Porphier.
• The fourth. ARGENT: A standing cup of Ruby Rock.

The Mules themselues came also downe, and crowned her with a garland of Roses, parted, perpale, Argent and Gules: and electing her for their Soueraigne, to comfort the fiue Knights that were discomfited by Enuie, two and two leading a Knight betwéene them, daunced a stately Al­mayne of xv. which ended: they bestowed a fauour, and certaine Latine verses, vpon euery one of the Knights: and returned vnto their Mount. The siluer pen, and verses de­liuered by Vranie to Ismarito, standing in the forefrunt of this booke: the rest for that they were proper vnto them­selues, and impertinent for this matter, I omit: By this time, the Cocke was ready to sing his midnight song: and the company (fully satisfied with pleasure) departed vnto their lodgings, to spend the rest of the night in contempla­tion and sléepe.